Dealing With an Inconvience Store
Life was difficult at the world's first inconvenience store, but that was the way they wanted it. I've been there only once and I'll tell you why. The first thing I notices was that you need a key to get in. (I was fortunate that my house key happened to fit the lock.) Once inside, the clerk was on the phone speaking some language I had never heard before. As soon as he got off the phone, it rang, which surprised me, since no one could seem to get the number. (The store had no name, which made it difficult to list in most phone directory.)
I didn't pay much attention to him. All I needed was milk. I navigated the 11-inch aisles to get to the back of the store and found a green liquid labeled as milk. When I went to examine the label a little closer, I noticed that the milk had expired several months ago. (The same could be said of many of the other items in the store.) I decided that it would be better to try the supermarket next door. As I went to leave, the attendant held the phone away from his mouth and said that I had to buy something.
"This isn't a museum," he said.
Could have fooled me. I looked around and found some candy. I figured that if I was going to throw it away, I might as well not have to spend too much money on it. I put it on the counter and the attendant said that I had to get a side order of thier special spicy fries with it.
I asked, "How much do they cost?"
"Three dollars and seventy-two cents," he said.
"How much for a small order?"
"That is the small order."
I agreed to buy it, seeing as how I couldn't get out of the place otherwise. He rang up the two items, which came out to almost $15. I looked down to find the price of the candy and it was a whopping 45 cents.
I looked at the attendant and asked, "How does it come to so much?"
"Sales tax," he said.
I tried to use my Master Card, but he wouldn't take it. The only cards he did take were really obscure cards or ones from companies that had gone out of business years ago. I put a five and a ten on the counter and the clerk insisted on exact change. He then pointed to a sign on the wall that was written in about twenty different languages. It read "Exact change for all purchases under $250." I reached into my pocket and started sorting what change I had. As I was doing this, someone else walked in. They wanted to know where the baseball field was. The attendand gave some convoluted set of directions involving what appeared to be three different time zones. The person then left, seeming like they understood it.
"How come you let him leave without buying anything?" I asked.
"He is part of our frequent buyer club," the attendant said.
I went back to going through my change. I got the right amount and put it down on the table. The attendant then asked for two forms of ID, one of which had to be out-of-state. It was fortunate that I had just moved to Florida from Nebraska. I had my company ID and my old driver's license. I took my stuff and left. I didn't ever look back.