update on crazy convenience store lady...

i spoke to the manager/owner of the convenience store
that had the employee that was rude to my daughter
(and many others i'm sure)

she was surprised by what i told her
which i had thought that she would be
and it didn't appear to be
pleasantly
surprised...
she asked that i do continue shopping there
and that if i notice anything like that again
to bring it to her attention
whether it be my child or someone else's...
she was also going to speak to the employee

since then
i have not seen the employee in the store
so...
i don't know if she works there anymore or not...

grade one...

how alike we are.

i brought you in the class room and you were
as happy as could be
calling out colors
finding your name
sitting in your seat
and talking non-stop
until you realized
that i couldn't stay
that i would have to leave
and that for the first time
in at least two years
you were going to be without me...
and i
without you...
and i think it hit us both
smack dab in the stomach
at the same time
because as your eyes filled with tears
my stomach tied itself into knots
and i nearly
came undone...

but after a few deep breaths
and brave hearty assurances of
"you will be fine"
and
"have a great day big guy"
i walked out of the class not bearing to look back
at your little body
hunched over the desk
sad eyes
and spiky hair....

and then i cried in the office
while waiting to pay for your school supplies
and i cried in the yard
while putting the child i look after into the stroller
and i cried while walking home..
and as i type this...

funny how this
takes away the sting of
the ten year old
backing subtly away from a kiss
in front of her friends
and dismissing me from
coming to her class with her
choosing to explore it with her friends
instead...

this is going to be a long day.

open letter to local convenience store

Dear owner of my local convenience store,

I shop at your store everyday, at least once a day, occassionally up to three times a
day. I generally shop in the evening, shortly after eight-o-clock bedtime is over for
my kids. In the last couple of weeks, I have noticed a new employee in your store. It is hard
to miss her because of the abrasive, rude manner in which she speaks to people,
mainly other children.

I felt like saying something in defence of these kids a couple of times and everytime I
went home, berating myself that I hadn't spoken up. If I had told the clerk that I wanted
to use the remainder of my change for candy, would she have muttered "How did I know
you were going to say that?" as she told me how many candy I could have? And would
she have yelled at me in front of a long line of customers that she was currently waiting
on to "Hurry up! It shouldn't take you THAT long to pick out your candy!" Somehow,
I doubt it. In my head, I kept thinking if that was my child that she was yelling at
and making feel like a criminal in front of a store full of people, then I would say
something.

That day has come.

Yesterday at around 6:30, my husband sent my ten year old daughter around the corner
to your store to buy some bacon. My daughter entered the store and did not know
where bacon might be. She wandered around for a bit and looked and when she
couldn't find it, she approached the counter, where there was a male customer ahead
of her. Before the male moved on, the clerk said to my daughter "Are you buying something?
Or are you buying nothing?" in a harsh enough tone that my daughter was
embarassed. When my daughter asked if they had bacon, she was told abruptly
that they did not, they were all out.

I went to the store a couple hours later to get our requisite 2 chocolate bars and
bottle of Diet Coke. I had also intended to remark in passing to the clerk that
she might want to rethink how she speaks with children. However, while I was in
the store, I witnessed her literally screaming and pointing at a boy in the store,
threatening to put him out. He was visibly embarassed and shaken. I walked
up to the counter at this point and told the clerk that I did not think I could shop
in this store anymore, that I shop there every day (which she acknowledged)
and that my daughter had been in earlier that day and had been treated in an
abrupt manner as well. The clerk began denying the minute I mentioned my
daughter. She remembered her immediately as the little blonde girl, and when
I started to say how she had felt she had been spoken to harshly, the clerk didn't
even let me finish before saying "No". She also disagreed with me by saying that
my daughter couldn't have been embarassed because there was no one else in the
store (so in essence, she was calling my daughter a liar). At this point, I said
that I have seen the way she talks to kids in the store and beleive my daughter,
and that it isn't fair to assume that every child is a theif...we all have the capacity
and ability to shoplift, to assume that because someone is under the age of 19
is a suspect is stereotypical and judgemental and wrong.

I don't know what that boy was doing to warrant being yelled at like that
but I do know that you are innocent until proven guilty and that there was
many other approaches she could have taken with him. She could have easily
called out, "Excuse me, could you put your stuff here on the counter while
you get some money from your friend?" Same results, less fear and embarassment
and discomfort for all involved.

I felt bad a bit when I came home and thought about what I had said and how
I had berated her in front of a store full of people. But then, when I think
that could have been my son or daughter on the receiving end of that
verbal assault and I don't feel bad anymore.

I have worked in retail for ten years. I spent four years in a bookstore, four years
in a record store and one year in a store that sold tee-shirts, jewellry and sunglasses
geared towards teens, so I have had experience in dealing with large numbers
of teens and pre-teens swarming your store at lunch hour and after school. However,
I also saw these people as potential customers rather than as only potential shoplifters.
If you are running a store then you have to figure out a way of guarding your
store against theft without discriminating openly against people you judge as a threat.

In closing, I regret that I can no longer, in good conscience, shop at your store.
I also have no wish of seeing the clerk fired. I only wanted to bring attention
to what seems to me to be wrong. I'm sure the clerk felt that she was doing her
job to the best of her capabilities, however flawed her methods may seem to me.

And one last thing, when I went to buy the chocolate bars, I noticed the cooler
had plenty of bacon in it.

Thank you for your time.

mememememememememe...its all about me

Boiler plate text: The rules to this meme game: Remove the blog at #1 from the following list and bump every one up one place; add your blog's name in the #5 spot; link to each of the other blogs for the desired cross polination effect.

1. -A- http://motherswork.blogspot.com/
2. Heather http://outloudvoice.blogspot.com/
3. Suzanne http://mimilou.blogspot.com/
4. Rebecca http://ministones.blogspot.com/
5. gkgirl http://itsacanadiangeek.blogspot.com/

Next: select new friends to add to the pollen count. (No obligation here, folks. Given my lack of community focused-blogging -- see above -- this is actually the most challenging part of this meme for me! Feel free to ignore if you're not a meme person... just consider this a friendly wave "hello" or something.)

1. cassiopeia http://blog.cassiopeia.ca/
2. michelle http://asweetlife.blogspot.com/
3. jen http://www.jengray.com/
4. h8s2clean http://accidentalhousewife.blogspot.com/
5 maggs http://alittlecrazy17.blogspot.com/


Let the game begin.

What 5 things do you miss about your childhood?

1. saturday morning cartoons...sure we still have them but i miss OUR saturday
morning cartoons...the smurfs, captain caveman, jabberjaws, the flintstones hour,
scooby doo and scrappy too, strawberry shortcake, voltron, he-man, she-ra,
the archies, the california raisins, charlie brown and snoopy show, jem...
and how much i loved getting up early and getting my requisite bowl of rice
krispies (all my dad would buy cause they were cheap) and dumping a cup
of sugar on them...so much sugar that you could feel its thickness when you
scraped your spoon on the bottom of the bowl.

2. endless time to play monopoly...i would play with anyone..i loved that game
(and most other board games)...my dad kept them up on top of the cupboards
and you had to ask before you could play and you had to wash your hands and
make sure the playing surface was completely clean...(heh)
and the thing that really brings me back to playing games
is eating rhubarb straight out of my mom's backyard...
washed not so much so that it would be clean
but so that it would be wet enough for the sugar we dipped it in
to stick to it...

3. my grandmothers house...i wrote a post about it a long time ago
when i realized it had been torn down...
i spent alot of my summers there
and certain hard to describe moments suddenly take me back there...
the sun shining through trees
the smell of hot, black pavement

4. my little hidden hide-away nooks that i used to always refer to as "my offices"
they could be found in many places
such as the opening under the stairs behind the closet
the top of my parents closet
the storage space my dad built for his stuff in the basement...
what they all had in common was that i could fit in the space
with my books and that was about it...

5. my childhood best friend whom i also wrote about recently...
we met when we were very young...my mom was best friends with her mom
and we bought a house in the same country-bumpkin-too-far-for-cable area
we did everything together
and her family did everything with mine...
christmas, easter, camping, beach, hanging out
birthdays, graduations...
the only way i would go on my first date
was if she could come...
i knew her secrets and she knew mine...

hmmm..did i say it had to be moving?

as i was writing yesterdays entry
i realized
that i had not been completely honest...
i said that if i was on something that was
moving
and that if i felt it was out of my control
i would do something rash
like throw my body at inanimate objects...
but
i forgot about the time at the gym...

once apon a time
a long time ago
in the land of the very fit and athletically inclined
there was a girl who was trying
desperately
to seem like she belonged there
and knew what she was doing...
one fine morning, she was feeling
particularly confident
and decided to try a machine she had not used before
it was a huge, monsterous stair climbing-like apparatus
unlike the lithe, spindly, easily run ones
she was accustomed to...

this was more like an escalator-to-nowhere...
so, feeling brave, she boarded the steps
and turned on the machine...
no problem
in fact
quite easy...
so easy, in fact, that she decided to turn up the speed a little...

heh...
still, no problem...
turn 'er up some more, there sporty spice...
yeah..thats it...hearts going now...got a good groove going..
look at those steps as they come out...
step, step, step, oops, missed a step..
damn...missed another one...
what the hell...fuck...why am i tripping?

so as the speed increased, so did the rate of tripping and fumbling
and whats this?
the mechanism to turn the speed down is WAY up there?
how the hell did it get WAY up there?
oh yeah...
cause i'm tripping over every second step and getting out of breath
and starting to sweat here
and god damn it i can't go fast enough to reach the fucking mechanism
i can't shut it off
i can't slow it down
i'm just hanging on now to the side rails
tripping and falling over the steps
sweating and swiping at the fucking mechanism i can't reach
its just out of my reach
a little more, a little more,
fuckinggoddamnfuckingsonofabitchmachine
and my head is going
what to do? what to do? people-are-looking-i'm-going-to-fall
so i throw my whole body at the top of the machine
i lunge at the top of the machine
like a mad sweaty woman heaving and panting
i land on my knees on top
yes, on top
of the machine
where i casually shut it off
and then
dejectedly
(and pantingly)
and trying to hold myself together
after this near death encounter with the stair-fucking-master-of-hell
i slink
(heaving and panting and humiliated)
into the changing room
and
i never
go
back...
oh.
and in case you wondered
as most people usually do when i tell this story
what would have happened if i let go
of the rails?
well...i would have fallen into the extreme deep fiery pit
that exsisted behind the machine-from-hell
and no...
i would not have just slid off the bottom step
which was not that high in retrospect...
no.
that is not what would happened...
no.
i would have died if i had let go of the siderails, ok.
i would have died.