Monday, January 25, 2010
My Old Navy Adventure (a.k.a. how love turned to hate for an umbrella in 43 minutes)
So, picture it: Sunday- It’s pouring rain. I mean like we are under a flash flood warning in our county. I braved the weather and went to early service and was out of church before 10:00am. Unfortunately, the weekends are my only time to run errands and take care of business, so rain, sleet, or snow I do my grocery shopping, errand running, house cleaning on the weekend, usually on Sunday because after church, I am alone all day with Chad’s church obligations.
So, 10:00am. I have something to take back to Old Navy. So I drive to Old Navy (this will be known as trip #1) and realize I have left my umbrella at church since it was only a drizzle when I left, but now has picked back up to a torrential downpour. I get to the door only to realize it doesn’t open until 11:00am on Sunday. That’s o.k. because I had to take something of Chad’s back to Academy Sports, so I leave and run through the rain to take that back.
I arrive back to Old Navy (trip #2) to make my return. I am pretty wet at this point. For some reason you can only get a store credit on out of stock items purchased online. So I look around the store and there is nothing worth having but, AN UMBRELLA! Perfect! So I purchase a cute little black and white umbrella with a red wooden hook handle. I bring it outside and open it up. I notice one of the metal arms is not working properly. I’m sure I can take a better look at it once in a dry location. So I leave to take care of yet another store return. (I swear these things have been in accumulating in my car for a month and I am going to take them back- TODAY!)
So, arrive at store #3 and go to open the umbrella and POP! The wooden handle breaks in half in my hand. The broken arm is now drooping and all the rain is pouring into my little bubble of supposed safety. I also notice that the handle of the umbrella has dyed my hand red. Worthless. So BACK to Old Navy (Trip #3) as I now understand the meaning of the phrase “mad as a wet hen”.
I slap the wet umbrella down onto the counter where I stood less than 45 minutes ago buying the stupid thing in the first place. The girl asks me if I want to exchange it for another umbrella. I look at her with mascara running down my face, my hand dyed a bright red, and my hair matted to my head. I just say “REALLY?!?!?” She quickly replies “Here is your $11.42 back, sorry about all that.”
It’s o.k. to laugh, it wasn’t funny then, but I’ve moved on and I think it’s pretty funny. Now if this dye would just come out of my hand.