(I realize that this could seem very offensive and racist but I promise you I am neither of those things and this is the retelling of an actual event)
Today, my fathers zipper broke on his hunting jacket. Being the amazingly caring and thoughtful daughter I am, I said I would take it to the “Stitch It” in the mall where I work.
Picture this: A professionally dressed girl with a chagrined face, walking to the seamstress, carrying a dirty camouflaged jacket. That literally has twigs sticking out of it. (I could not make this up)
I have about T-minus two minutes to make it to work on the other side of the mall and I have to stand in a line. The type of line that looks like its starting to move... but oh, wait, its not.
Checking my phone I realize in dismay that I am already late for work, and that I went on a spending spree the day before, that left my bank account at the nice round number of: One dollar and Fifty Seven cents.
When it is finally my turn, I get up to the till and there is this small asian woman at the till. Her head barely clears the register. Her accent so heavy that I have to think really hard, and do a lot of guessing to decode the english from her accent.
Me: The zipper is broken, can you please replace it?
Stitch it Employee: It broken? I fix it no time.
Me: Great! Thank you so much! I’m actually late for wor....
Before I can even finish the end of my sentence she has scurried away from the till to her fixing table. She begins hacking away at pieces of the zipper, while my lateness for work builds up quickly.
Me: (Yelling over zipper hacking and grumbling people behind me in the growing line) Could I just leave it here and pick it up later?! I’m late for work!
Stitch it Employee: I finish now! You see zipper good as new!
Me: It would really be better if I could pick it up later! I don’t have any money! Could you just replace the whole zipper and that way I can pick it up when it’s done?
To me, this seemed a logical enough idea. This was a win-win solution I had come up with. I would get to go to work-mind you very late, and then I would have the money transferred into my account. And she would get paid. I was quite proud of my problem solving skills. The Stitch it Employee, however, did not agree.
Stitch it Employee: Nonononononono! It more expensive that way! See? I fix it already and it cheaper! You pay now, take jacket now!
(In hindsight I can’t really blame her for not wanting to keep the jacket, it smelt funny and it had twigs all over it.)
The level of agitation coming from the line behind me was becoming unnecessary. They were not late for a still relatively new job! They were not being forced into paying for something with money they did not possess! I tried to reason with the Stitch It employee truly I did. Either she did not understand, or she enjoyed watching me suffer. And Oh, how she made me suffer.
Stitch it Employee: You pay now. See? I fix jacket and without new zipper! It works now, you pay me.
Me: (With growing frustration) I realize you fixed it already. That’s great. Thank you. But I’m already very late for work, can I please pick it up later?
Stitch it Employee: You here now! Pay now!
At that point she had already rung everything up, and had her hand out waiting for my card. The people behind me were becoming louder and unreasonable (this was not my fault) and I was becoming desperate to avoid humiliation. I begrudgingly handed over my shamefully empty card.
I punched in the required information with nervous fingers, and took a deep breath as the information took what seemed years to “Process...”. Then with the most shrill shrieking sound I have ever heard, the machine repeatedly beeped at me and flashed the word DECLINED.
Stitch it Employee: (Practically shouting) You declined.
(Uncomfortable shuffling sounds in the line behind me.)
Me: I know. I told you I don’t have any money.
Stitch it Employee: It only 11.18! You no have 11.18?? I save you money and you can no pay for 11.18?
(Let me just say that at this point she was annunciating well and projecting her voice, so that the people in the very back of the line could hear what was going on)
Now, I was going into meltdown mode. I was beginning to picture the Stitch it Employee as an angry monkey in a blue vest hopping up and down screeching. And myself as the person who was regretfully without a banana. My brain was not functioning properly it was only focusing on three things.
My Brain: late late late, embarrassment and shame, late late late
Finally I focused enough to thrust the twiggy ridden jacket into the Stitch it Monkey’s arms and say clearly:
I HAVE NO BANANAS!
Which of course, was a mistake. And I didn’t mean it. Although it did make everyone stop talking so I had a chance to say this:
I mean... I have no money. Keep this here, and I will be back for it before you close to pick it up, at which time I will have the monkey. MONEY!
Then with what very little dignity I had left, I wrote down my name and cell number and slid it over the counter. I gathered myself and turned, onto the confused and evil glares from the line-waiters.
And speed walked the heck outta there.
I was twenty minutes late for work. At the very least my managers have a sense of humor.
Later...
Stitch it Employee: (with a raised eyebrow) Oh, You back...
Lesson: Always have money or bananas on hand when in Stitch It. Those Employees will fuck with your pride.
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