In Retro-spect: Mercury's Comedy of Errors
There's something in the air again. You can just feel it. Everyone seems tired. Traffic, lines and people are moving slower. Communication is not so easy. Irritation is rampant. Computers and electronics are on the fritz. Everywhere you look, chaos seems to be the rule, not the exception.
Yep. All effects are present and accounted for.
Mercury is up to its old tricks again.
Having already written about this lovely phenomenon months ago, I will not describe yet again the multitude of ways you can feel this planet's backwards spin. It suffices to say that Mercury is now retrograde once more, and (possibly as a result of this) I am simply too tired to launch into a full explanation of what that means this time around.
Nah. I think relaying one episode from today will do a much better job.
I went to Long's Drugstore to buy a greeting card. I gave myself sufficient time before work to do this, which turned out be a good thing. I found the card quickly and darted for the checkout. Looking around, I was pleasantly surprised to see this typically slamming-busy store had a sparse crowd at 10:45am on a Friday morning. Score one for Paul. So I found the shortest line, which consisted of one small, heavyset elderly Filipino gentleman with two (count 'em, 2) items. No problem, I figured.
I take notice of the man. He has a small hearing aid in his left ear, which is facing me, and is thumbing through a wallet full of cash. I immediately deduce that the hearing aid is clearly not on, however, as the petite young girl behind the cash register steadily recites his total after scanning his purchases. Louder each time, she repeats herself:
"9.84 please." The man stares blankly ahead.
"9.84 please!" The man reaches into his wallet and takes out a 5-dollar bill.
"9.84!!!!!!!! He's still waving that 5-dollar bill. Oh boy.
After about thirty seconds of pause, he starts to realize that maybe he doesn't have enough money in his hand for this transaction. She kindly tells him that the vanilla sandwich cookies he is attempting to purchase are something like $6 (Hawaii prices, what can I say?) and that, combined with his other item, he owes $9.84. Somehow, after a minute or two, something clicks and he reaches back into his wallet. This time around, he fumbles through several $5 and $20 bills, and comes out with a crisp $100 bill.
(My thoughts: Why the #@! didn't he just give her one of those smaller bills?? Oh, but he seems nice, this little man. And she is doing a decent job of helping him. This shouldn't take much longer now.)
The register girl rips the cash out of his hand. She opens her drawer, and (surprise!) finds there is not enough change for that large bill. Pushing her drawer closed with obvious irritation, she picks up the phone and calls her manager. The old man is starting to get nervous. He makes several attempts to grab the $100 bill from her hand, and eventually succeeds. She tries to explain that no matter, she has already rung in his $100 tender, and that changing the bill won't do any good at this point. But he doesn't care. He has already exchanged his bigger bill for a smaller, more tidy $20.
(My thoughts: If I was that girl right now, I would have slammed the drawer harder! But wait. He clearly needs some help. Oh man, I don't want to go to work now. What if he wants a cup of coffee later? My store is right down the street!)
I feel myself throwing my head up into the air, sighing audibly. I am starting to get mildly disgusted.
A few seconds later, the manager arrives with the change. No need to bother, Register Girl says, growing more and more ornery with each passing second. Together, the two employees have to do some manual calculations or something, and eventually arrive at the right way to proceed and get this show on the road. The old man stands there, innocently looking on. Meanwhile, the line of similarly-exasperated customers behind me continues to build. It's gonna get ugly soon, I can feel it. But thankfully, no. Finally, after several minutes in all, the man walks off happily with his plastic bag full of vanilla cookies and who-knows-what-else. At this point, Register Girl is over it. She huffs and rolls her eyes. Great. Now its my turn at the checkout. And she looks pissed.
So what do I do? I burst out laughing, that's what. She rang me up, trying hard not to laugh (or even smile) along with me. Oh well. At least I felt better.
As I walk out of the store, I realize how unbelievably, horrifically impatient I can be, not to mention judgemental, harsh, and unsympathetic. Then it took me all of one minute (maybe less) to see how hilarious the whole thing really was. The only thing I could do in that situation was laugh. And I had seen both sides of that counter before, many times in fact. Register Girl just wanted to do her job. And that poor old man only wanted some cookies, for crying out loud! What were we all getting so angry about? He just needed some help. In fact, they both did. Don't we all sometimes?
I was grateful to witness this comedy of errors, if only because it revealed how caught up I can get in the race to go nowhere, and to do nothing. Hurry, hurry, hurry Paul, and don't stop to be helpful or kind. Register Girl got that memo. I'm sure we have all gotten that particular memo at one time or another. Chaos always gets the best of us, at least until we realize what is happening and are able to toss that memo into the trash heap with all the others.
I arrive at work (with time to spare, I might add) and am feeling really good. The whole situation replaying in my head, I decide that this is going to be a fine day after all, that the old man in Long's taught me a valuable lesson in patience, and that I would try to be kind to everyone I come in contact with at the store today. I simultaneously slip on my black, torn-up old work shoes and hang my backpack in its normal resting spot, on a large S-shaped hook in the backroom. Time for work, and it was Friday too. Bonus! Yippee!
Splaaaaash. That hook was attached to a shelf, holding some of my coworkers drinks. The weight of my bag brought the shelf down, and the drinks along with it. Included was a venti-sized iced latte, with lots of fragrant, buttery toffee nut syrup inside. And it didn't have a lid.
But it did end up all over my bag, my leg, and the floor.
(My thoughts: Who the #@! put a drink on that shelf with no lid??)
I paused for a moment. I thought about Register Girl, and the old man with the wallet full of cash from Long's. I thought about Mercury retrograde. I thought about the seven-hour shift I was about to enter into. I had a choice. Was this going to be "just one of those days"? Oh no. Please no, I begged myself. I mean, did I learn nothing from earlier today?
Calmly, I grab a sanitized rag to clean off my bag and leg. I mop up the mess on the floor. My initial agitation passes quickly, sort of the way those spritzy light rain showers move through the atmosphere during a typical Hawaiian day. Here and gone, in a flash. I refuse to cry over syrupy, coffee-laden spilled milk. I resume my conversations with the coworkers, and proceed to let this morning full of comic relief be exactly what it is: A chance to check my attitudes, be more aware of my reactions, and slow down a little. Oh yes, and smile. Lord knows I could have used more of that this week, to laugh at life as if it were anything but the drudgery I was making it out to be in my mind.
And in case you wondered, my entire day at work was quite lovely, thank you. Several customers remarked how this week just seemed so chaotic, so crazy, and soooo sloooowww. A few even asked if it was a full moon or something. I just smiled and shrugged my shoulders.
No full moon, I answered. Just business as usual, Mercury-retro style.
Yep. All effects are present and accounted for.
Mercury is up to its old tricks again.
Having already written about this lovely phenomenon months ago, I will not describe yet again the multitude of ways you can feel this planet's backwards spin. It suffices to say that Mercury is now retrograde once more, and (possibly as a result of this) I am simply too tired to launch into a full explanation of what that means this time around.
Nah. I think relaying one episode from today will do a much better job.
I went to Long's Drugstore to buy a greeting card. I gave myself sufficient time before work to do this, which turned out be a good thing. I found the card quickly and darted for the checkout. Looking around, I was pleasantly surprised to see this typically slamming-busy store had a sparse crowd at 10:45am on a Friday morning. Score one for Paul. So I found the shortest line, which consisted of one small, heavyset elderly Filipino gentleman with two (count 'em, 2) items. No problem, I figured.
I take notice of the man. He has a small hearing aid in his left ear, which is facing me, and is thumbing through a wallet full of cash. I immediately deduce that the hearing aid is clearly not on, however, as the petite young girl behind the cash register steadily recites his total after scanning his purchases. Louder each time, she repeats herself:
"9.84 please." The man stares blankly ahead.
"9.84 please!" The man reaches into his wallet and takes out a 5-dollar bill.
"9.84!!!!!!!! He's still waving that 5-dollar bill. Oh boy.
After about thirty seconds of pause, he starts to realize that maybe he doesn't have enough money in his hand for this transaction. She kindly tells him that the vanilla sandwich cookies he is attempting to purchase are something like $6 (Hawaii prices, what can I say?) and that, combined with his other item, he owes $9.84. Somehow, after a minute or two, something clicks and he reaches back into his wallet. This time around, he fumbles through several $5 and $20 bills, and comes out with a crisp $100 bill.
(My thoughts: Why the #@! didn't he just give her one of those smaller bills?? Oh, but he seems nice, this little man. And she is doing a decent job of helping him. This shouldn't take much longer now.)
The register girl rips the cash out of his hand. She opens her drawer, and (surprise!) finds there is not enough change for that large bill. Pushing her drawer closed with obvious irritation, she picks up the phone and calls her manager. The old man is starting to get nervous. He makes several attempts to grab the $100 bill from her hand, and eventually succeeds. She tries to explain that no matter, she has already rung in his $100 tender, and that changing the bill won't do any good at this point. But he doesn't care. He has already exchanged his bigger bill for a smaller, more tidy $20.
(My thoughts: If I was that girl right now, I would have slammed the drawer harder! But wait. He clearly needs some help. Oh man, I don't want to go to work now. What if he wants a cup of coffee later? My store is right down the street!)
I feel myself throwing my head up into the air, sighing audibly. I am starting to get mildly disgusted.
A few seconds later, the manager arrives with the change. No need to bother, Register Girl says, growing more and more ornery with each passing second. Together, the two employees have to do some manual calculations or something, and eventually arrive at the right way to proceed and get this show on the road. The old man stands there, innocently looking on. Meanwhile, the line of similarly-exasperated customers behind me continues to build. It's gonna get ugly soon, I can feel it. But thankfully, no. Finally, after several minutes in all, the man walks off happily with his plastic bag full of vanilla cookies and who-knows-what-else. At this point, Register Girl is over it. She huffs and rolls her eyes. Great. Now its my turn at the checkout. And she looks pissed.
So what do I do? I burst out laughing, that's what. She rang me up, trying hard not to laugh (or even smile) along with me. Oh well. At least I felt better.
As I walk out of the store, I realize how unbelievably, horrifically impatient I can be, not to mention judgemental, harsh, and unsympathetic. Then it took me all of one minute (maybe less) to see how hilarious the whole thing really was. The only thing I could do in that situation was laugh. And I had seen both sides of that counter before, many times in fact. Register Girl just wanted to do her job. And that poor old man only wanted some cookies, for crying out loud! What were we all getting so angry about? He just needed some help. In fact, they both did. Don't we all sometimes?
I was grateful to witness this comedy of errors, if only because it revealed how caught up I can get in the race to go nowhere, and to do nothing. Hurry, hurry, hurry Paul, and don't stop to be helpful or kind. Register Girl got that memo. I'm sure we have all gotten that particular memo at one time or another. Chaos always gets the best of us, at least until we realize what is happening and are able to toss that memo into the trash heap with all the others.
I arrive at work (with time to spare, I might add) and am feeling really good. The whole situation replaying in my head, I decide that this is going to be a fine day after all, that the old man in Long's taught me a valuable lesson in patience, and that I would try to be kind to everyone I come in contact with at the store today. I simultaneously slip on my black, torn-up old work shoes and hang my backpack in its normal resting spot, on a large S-shaped hook in the backroom. Time for work, and it was Friday too. Bonus! Yippee!
Splaaaaash. That hook was attached to a shelf, holding some of my coworkers drinks. The weight of my bag brought the shelf down, and the drinks along with it. Included was a venti-sized iced latte, with lots of fragrant, buttery toffee nut syrup inside. And it didn't have a lid.
But it did end up all over my bag, my leg, and the floor.
(My thoughts: Who the #@! put a drink on that shelf with no lid??)
I paused for a moment. I thought about Register Girl, and the old man with the wallet full of cash from Long's. I thought about Mercury retrograde. I thought about the seven-hour shift I was about to enter into. I had a choice. Was this going to be "just one of those days"? Oh no. Please no, I begged myself. I mean, did I learn nothing from earlier today?
Calmly, I grab a sanitized rag to clean off my bag and leg. I mop up the mess on the floor. My initial agitation passes quickly, sort of the way those spritzy light rain showers move through the atmosphere during a typical Hawaiian day. Here and gone, in a flash. I refuse to cry over syrupy, coffee-laden spilled milk. I resume my conversations with the coworkers, and proceed to let this morning full of comic relief be exactly what it is: A chance to check my attitudes, be more aware of my reactions, and slow down a little. Oh yes, and smile. Lord knows I could have used more of that this week, to laugh at life as if it were anything but the drudgery I was making it out to be in my mind.
And in case you wondered, my entire day at work was quite lovely, thank you. Several customers remarked how this week just seemed so chaotic, so crazy, and soooo sloooowww. A few even asked if it was a full moon or something. I just smiled and shrugged my shoulders.
No full moon, I answered. Just business as usual, Mercury-retro style.
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