Well, if you can sue over hot coffee…

Tuesday~April 7, 2009

My friend Kate and I took the boys to IKEA yesterday to avoid the cold and escape the craziness of cabin fever.

We unloaded the small people and made our way through the sliding doors, and there she was, the scary employee with the most ill-fitting position of greeter. The one that chewed me out the last time we were there.

You see, I had done an awful thing. I had gotten lost at IKEA, turned around and confused about which of the five elevators to take. So I guessed, and with my merchandise in hand I was ejected from an elevator on the opposite side that I had gotten in, and found myself back at the beginning. So I hopped out to grab a stray cart, because that was my mission anyway.

It was then that I came face-to-face with the Welcome Lady, and she started yelling, “YOU CAN’T HAVE MERCHANDISE DOWN HERE!”

So I turned red, smiled a fake smile and said I had gotten confused and was trying to make my way back to the shopping area. To which she responded by yelling the exact same thing again, only this time pointing at me and getting louder.

So I did what any self respecting person would do to stand up for themselves. I simply got back on the elevator and waved and smiled as sarcastically as possible as the doors closed between us, which made her yell, “HEY!” over and over at the top of her lungs.

I felt a little silly about having acted like a child, so this time I tried to ignore Welcome Lady. But that was hard because there were a group of women standing at the lockers near the entrance. They were trying to figure out how to put their things away. And they were being chewed out (royally) for not understanding that they needed to put a quarter in the “free” lockers. Yes, Welcome Lady struck again, and her tone was so rude I almost intervened. Almost. (I did in my head, but just not in real life.)

“IT is WRITTEN right there!!!,” she scoffed at the ladies. “You will get your quarter back when you return for your things, do you NOT see THAT?”

The ladies fell silent, staring at each other like wounded children.

The doors opened and we stepped in the elevator, happy to escape. As the doors closed and we started to move, we could still hear her, lecturing on and on about reading signs and I grew…um…really annoyed.

Inappropriate employee behavior doesn’t really get to me that much generally. I just assume someone is having a bad day (or life) and I try to let it roll off me. But then other times my stomach starts to churn and I get all sweaty because I just can’t wrap my mind around the need to torture everyone you come in contact with at your job, and then get paid to do it.

I started to tell Kate that I planned on complaining, even though I never do, but then it happened…

Sometimes having kids around makes it so you don’t have any need or desire to spend your time complaining about employees. Instead of having the satisfaction of knowing I’d informed a manager that Welcome Lady was very scary, I was distracted by the chaos and mayhem caused by my very own angelic children.

Because, as I turned to pick up his discarded boots, Miles tried to stand on the side of the cart that Asher was sitting in. And before I could say “Welcome Lady,” the boys were on the floor in a pile, Asher dangling sideways from his buckled prison, and Miles completely hidden under the over-turned cart and his brother.

There was screaming and pulling and lifting and pain. I was actually pretty sure something would be broken, it was one of those twisted limbs kinds of things. We were surrounded by yellow and blue shirts in a flash, so many questions, people on radios asking for help. Heads checked, legs and arms checked. Some swelling, some scrapes, but it looked like everyone was in one piece. Just wailing pieces. But no broken pieces.

Enter the manager. (I would like to say here that this helpful person was Welcome Lady, to redeem her character, but that would be a lie, even though it would make a good story.)

He was a nice looking and friendly man, talking quietly while sitting on the floor with Miles and I, “Can I get you guys lunch and ice cream?”

Huh? What does that have to do with it?….OH.

Dude. I’m not going to sue you over a complete accident caused by my child. You don’t have to offer me lunch.

“No, it’s fine, it wasn’t your fault, it was an accident.”

“Really, I insist.”

Pause…thinking, thinking, thinking.

I do love me some IKEA meatballs and mashed potatoes. And Welcome Lady is mean….

“Well, if you insist! We’ll take it!” (BIG smile.)

And I totally could have threatened him too. I could have said I have a good case…Those carts are too tall, or maybe too tippy... I could have added in stuff about crazy Welcome Lady, but by then I’d completely forgotten her antics. And we really do enjoy free lunch. (hopefully you come here often and understand that I’m joking, sarcastically…you know, making fun of suing for the wrong reasons…)

I would’ve liked to have thanked the manager in a more proper way than the simple, sheepish “thank you” I gave him. But I think the more appropriate person to thank is that lady that won all the money after suing McDonald’s for having hot coffee.

And don’t you worry, if I come nose to nose with Welcome Lady again next time, she’s totally going down.

Maybe.

Jay’s prompt this week for Tuesday’s Tribute was a suggestion to make the post about retail peeps (Grandma, peeps are people). What perfect timing for this prompt, Jay. Thanks!

Head on over to Halftime Lessons for more Tuesday’s Tributes.

*photo courtesy of flickr