Found a fur at Home Depot?
May. 28th, 2004 01:42 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pyesetzI was walking around Home Depot with an electric lawn mower in my shopping basket, looking for an employee to talk to. I found two, a guy at light bulbs and a gal at garden chemicals. I picked the chemicals girl, for no obvious reason. I moved my basket next to her and waited. She was "blocking" the insecticides, pulling them forward on the shelf so the fronts of the boxes lined up. She had a variety of tattoos on her body, many of which I did not recognize, but the one on her calf was Tweety Bird. Could be a furry, I thought.
Eventually she turned around and was unable to avoid looking at me, though it seemed she tried. "Yes?" she asked.
"I'm looking for a bag for this mower. It says 'bag sold separately'."
Wordlessly she walked past me, grabbed a ladder, and wheeled it into the lawn-mower aisle. She walked along the aisle with her eyes aimed at the top shelf. Her build was chunky but muscular. Her hair was cut short. Her clothes just hung there without adding anything to her appearance. I don't want to be here, said her body. "We're out of them," she said with her mouth. She stood there stiffly, as if waiting for me to throw a fit.
I made a slightly-sad expression. "Well, I don't actually need the bag today." (I generally don't use a bag and was only buying one because Wifey wanted to collect some clippings for her compost pile.) "Will you be getting some more of them this season?"
She reached into her apron pocket and pulled out a Black&Decker lawn-products catalog -- apparently I picked someone in the right department! -- and went to a computer to look it up. I followed her with my shopping basket. Her walk had neither the spring of youth nor the uncertainty of age. She tapped some keys, then announced, "I don't see any orders. The Higher Ups don't know that we're out of them." They don't pay me enough for this job.
Her cell phone rang. "Seasonal!" she answered. She listened a bit, then said, "I'll have to get back to you on that. I'm" -- she looked at me -- "with a customer". There was something odd about her smile as she put away the phone, as if she were playing the rôle of a good employee. Did she believe me to be a spy for the Home Office? I often have that effect on salespeople.
"When do you think the Higher Ups will notice that you don't have any?" I asked. She made a "hmph" noise. Those bastards! "I'll speak to an inside manager about it later today. They should be ordered soon." Yeah, and the check is in the mail! was my thought. Well, no biggie. I could wait a few days and try again, or try another Home Depot store, or mail-order it from the manufacturer. Why should I have a cow over it?
I noticed that she was looking a little to my left, her eyes blue and cloudy. For what I do around here, they should have promoted me already! I waited for an appropriate amount of time, then made my good-byes and headed towards the checkout lanes, with just the lawn-mower and no bag attachment.
* * * * *
Later I was thinking back to this episode and wondered, "So what kind of fur was she?" Wolf! said my Inner Dog, but could not tell me how he knew.
You are a Glasswalker. You are techno-savvy and a born city dweller. You are very social and classy, and probably not doing too bad moneywise.
Which of the twelve werewolf tribes would you be in?
brought to you by Quizilla
Eventually she turned around and was unable to avoid looking at me, though it seemed she tried. "Yes?" she asked.
"I'm looking for a bag for this mower. It says 'bag sold separately'."
Wordlessly she walked past me, grabbed a ladder, and wheeled it into the lawn-mower aisle. She walked along the aisle with her eyes aimed at the top shelf. Her build was chunky but muscular. Her hair was cut short. Her clothes just hung there without adding anything to her appearance. I don't want to be here, said her body. "We're out of them," she said with her mouth. She stood there stiffly, as if waiting for me to throw a fit.
I made a slightly-sad expression. "Well, I don't actually need the bag today." (I generally don't use a bag and was only buying one because Wifey wanted to collect some clippings for her compost pile.) "Will you be getting some more of them this season?"
She reached into her apron pocket and pulled out a Black&Decker lawn-products catalog -- apparently I picked someone in the right department! -- and went to a computer to look it up. I followed her with my shopping basket. Her walk had neither the spring of youth nor the uncertainty of age. She tapped some keys, then announced, "I don't see any orders. The Higher Ups don't know that we're out of them." They don't pay me enough for this job.
Her cell phone rang. "Seasonal!" she answered. She listened a bit, then said, "I'll have to get back to you on that. I'm" -- she looked at me -- "with a customer". There was something odd about her smile as she put away the phone, as if she were playing the rôle of a good employee. Did she believe me to be a spy for the Home Office? I often have that effect on salespeople.
"When do you think the Higher Ups will notice that you don't have any?" I asked. She made a "hmph" noise. Those bastards! "I'll speak to an inside manager about it later today. They should be ordered soon." Yeah, and the check is in the mail! was my thought. Well, no biggie. I could wait a few days and try again, or try another Home Depot store, or mail-order it from the manufacturer. Why should I have a cow over it?
I noticed that she was looking a little to my left, her eyes blue and cloudy. For what I do around here, they should have promoted me already! I waited for an appropriate amount of time, then made my good-byes and headed towards the checkout lanes, with just the lawn-mower and no bag attachment.
* * * * *
Later I was thinking back to this episode and wondered, "So what kind of fur was she?" Wolf! said my Inner Dog, but could not tell me how he knew.
You are a Glasswalker. You are techno-savvy and a born city dweller. You are very social and classy, and probably not doing too bad moneywise.
Which of the twelve werewolf tribes would you be in?
brought to you by Quizilla
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no subject
Date: 2004-05-28 02:51 pm (UTC)Interesting. I usually try not to project furriness onto other people but I have met one woman who absolutely screamed "weasel" to me, though I don't know why. In the most complimentary sense of course, since I think that weasels are incredibly neat little creatures.
Pity about the mower bag, but I've never had much luck with those sorts of places. Hope they can get one in for ya.
no subject
Date: 2004-05-29 02:48 pm (UTC)Why should this be avoided? In the case at hand, I thought it was harmless enough, since there's a good chance I will never see that woman again and it doesn't really matter what kind of animal *I* think she is.
I have met one woman who absolutely screamed "weasel" to me, though I don't know why.
That sounds useful. If you use "weasel" to describe people like her, you can use your knowledge base about anthro weasels and how they behave when communicating with her, regardless of what *she* thinks she is.
no subject
Date: 2004-05-29 06:17 pm (UTC)Oh, I don't suppose it's something to be avoided, that was just meant as a statement of personal habit. I've just been burned a little on the pre-judgement thing so I tend to avoid it. But no, there's no harm in it.