I am afraid that as I start describing something that happened to me tonight, it will sound as though I regard what was a relatively modest inconvenience as a towering tragedy. It’s not – and I know that – and I will really do my best to keep this in proper perspective. (If I was really smart, I would wait until tomorrow morning – giving myself a good night’s sleep first – but I don’t think I’ll sleep until I have gotten this off my chest.) So I’m taking a nice, deep, cleansing breath. . . and here I go. . .
I grabbed a very modest supper tonight (actually just some of the vegetable soup that is my typical lunch these days) so as I was finishing up my treadmill time at Razor Sharp, I was really hungry. So I actually ratcheted up the speed so I could reach 3.75 miles a little quicker than usual and be done in time for me to get to Subway before it closed at 10. So that’s what I did, and I worked up an extra big sweat doing so – which come to think of it is the whole point, so no complaints there.
As I was driving down highway 20, I drove past a Subway that is especially nice but where I had been made to wait an inordinate amount of time the day yesterday afternoon . . . and any of you who know me well know that making me wait unexpectedly for food is the quickest way to get on my bad side. (As I have been known to exclaim in such situations, “it’s called Fast Food for a reason, you know!”) So I decided to issue my private little penalty and drove right past that Subway and decided instead to patronize the one that is closest to our house. They’ve never done me wrong yet.
As I walked through door, I immediately looked behind the counter to where the soups are served, and noticed that those pots were already gone. Sold out, apparently- not a huge surprise so close to closing time. So I would be content with a sub and maybe some apple slices. . .
. . . only to have the clerk (is that what you call them?) come out from the kitchen to say “I’ve put everything away already.” I looked at the clock . . . it said 9:45. I looked back at the front door . . . and the OPEN sign was still illumined. I looked back at her but was absolutely speechless, managing nothing but a bewildered, sour expression on my face. And she said again, “I’ve put everything away already.” And then she added, “I’m supposed to leave at 10:00.” And I was still speechless- which in and of itself is quite noteworthy- and I just walked out of there without saying a word. I almost jumped in the car but decided instead to stop in at Qdoba right around the corner and ordered something medium naughty (you don’t have much choice at Qdoba) but the whole time I was eating it in the car, I was formulating the complaint which I will telephone to Subway tomorrow. I am very likely the most loyal, frequent customer they have. . . Jerod the Second you might call me. . . and I am hoping that counts for something when I make my displeasure known.
I think the reason this bothered me so much is because my wife experienced something even worse earlier this week right across the street at Walgreens. She needed to pick up a prescription there and their pharmacy closes at 10, so she made a point of leaving Racine Theater Guild rehearsal as promptly as she could in order to get there before they closed. She pulled into the drive-thru lane at 9:48 – she remembers looking at the clock – and sat there waiting for someone to come to the window. (There’s a sensor that lets them know that you’re there. You’re not supposed to have to press a buzzer or anything.) She waited and waited and waited – three minutes – and then finally rolled down her window and pressed the Call button. A few moments later, a clerk’s voice rang out through the speaker “Yeah, we’re closed,” My wife replied “It’s not 10:00 yet.” And she answered “It’s :58.” To which my wife said “the sign says you close at 10.” And the clerk replied “It’s :58.” No apology, whatsoever . . . and she wasn’t even correct about the time. It was 9:53.
I don’t know how my wife kept from driving her car right through the front windows of that store. That’s what I would have done, if for no other reason than to be able to drive her vehicle right up to the pharmacy counter so she could show the clerk her dashboard clock in person. (In fact, I am amazed and a little scared at how FURIOUS I was and still am about this Walgreen’s thing – and I wasn’t even there.)
So the next time you drive through the intersection of Durand Avenue and Green Bay Road, don’t be surprised if you see Kathy and me standing on the curb hoisting homemade signs saying “Open Means Open!” or “Whatever Happened to the Customer’s Always Right?” or “Down with Subway’s Closed Door Policy!” or “Walgreen’s Clerks Can’t Tell Time!”
On second thought, maybe we’ll take a Chill Pill and let this go. . . but if the Verizon store on that same corner tries to close ten minutes early any time soon, look out!