Gone Completely Out of the Loop Crazy

Ladies and Gentlemen, a Target story:

Seeing as how this is my first weekend without people around me in a month, it was a challenge to get myself off the couch and out the door, to Target, to buy "some stuff." (This was my mindset going into it; the goal really was to get out of the house.)

And so, in a sort of rotten mood as a result of cat-gone-crazy-howling-all-night, I put some stuff in a basket and hit the checkout line. The first line I tried closed down right before me. The second line was held up by some cash register issue. I'm looking at my other options, when my cashier says, "Don't you be looking around, I'll be done in just a minute." I could have taken offense, but it was said with such charm and so disarmingly that I just chuckled, cheered the eff up, and waited my turn.

We chatted about whether or not I was having a baby (I'm not) because I purchased a maternity top (I did--it's cute!), and my bill came to $95--which seems a lot for "some stuff," and I thought as much at the time, but didn't look at my receipt until I got home.

Before that, though, I stopped by the Salvation Army and TOTALLY SCORED! I bought two cashmere cardigans and a cute handknit top for $20.

And I mention the thrift store because it was in this mindset that I looked at my receipt, saw an item marked "Target PREM" for $16.38, and couldn't figure out what the heck it was. I look in my bags; still no luck.

So here is where the crazy starts.

I call the store, tell them I've been charged for an item I didn't purchase, and I don't know what it is, and they tell me to come back and they'll fix it.

At the store, a bitchy customer service rep listens to my story, says NOT ONE WORD, calls a security looking fellow and gives him my receipt. He goes off with it for probably 10 minutes.

He comes back, tells me I have to return the item in order to get a refund. I explain again that I don't have it, and he says he knows it went into the bag because HE SAW IT ON CAMERA. I'm flabbergasted. I ask him what it was, and he tells me it was some hair product--"like a perm solution?" I tell him listen mister, there is absolutely no way a box of home perm solution went into my bag, and I march over to try to find my sassy cashier. She's not there, but her friends are, and they ask if they can help. They mediate for a minute between me (the crazy lady) and the security man (whom I am about to throttle), and while this is happening one of them thinks to enter the item number into the computer to see what the item is.

"It's not 'perm,' it's Target Premium. Um, whitening strips? Teeth whitening strips?" she asks me.

"Oh.
Right.
I bought those.
I have those.
Ok.
Sorry!
Thanks.
Bye."

And while I am not denying for one minute my complete and sole personal resposibility for this debaucle, would it not have been easier to look up the item number over the phone? Which is really sort of what I wanted?

Lessons learned:
1. Do not let Mary go shopping alone.
2. Do not wear a red shirt on a Target shopping expedition.
3. Check your receipt before you leave the store.

ed. And what I learned is, sometimes you are the only one responsible for the ridiculous things that happen to you. It's ok; you're still a worthwhile person.

I'm going to stay in the rest of the weekend with my teeth whitening strips. Let's hope Monday brings a reason or two to smile.