Tuesday, December 11, 2007

a grain of salt

We woke up to an ice covered driveway yesterday. It was at least 1/4 inch thick. I had a two hour delay, but Jeff still had to get to work on time.
Jeff threw down all the bags of salt we had on our driveway, and hoped it would melt the ice before he had to leave.

No such luck. It didn't even make a dent.

Jeff ended up going out there with a garden shovel, and was able to pound away a few patches so we could at least get a few feet of traction as we made the slick ride down the hill into the road.

We both made it out without running into traffic. Jeff had a close call with the county snow plow. That could have been bad.

The temperatures didn't rise much during the day, so when I got home there was still a lot of ice on the driveway. Jeff decided to buy some more salt on his way home from work.

Jeff stopped at the hardware store near our house; a store we try to avoid. We sued the owner years ago when his dog bit me and practically killed my dog as we walked past his house. I hate to give him any of our money, but sometimes it's just easier to stop there, than drive the extra few miles to the Depot. It's also the only local place that sells chrome screws, which Jeff uses for his choppers. Jeff has literally bought over a thousand dollars worth of screws at the store. You pay big bucks for extra pretty screws and bolts.

To buy salt, you go inside and tell the cashier what size bags you want and how many. You pay, then bring your receipt outside where young, strapping boys load the bags in your car for you.

Jeff told the cashier he wanted five 50 pound bags of salt. He brought his receipt outside, and helped the boys load the bags in his truck. Jeff got inside his truck, and noticed the owner coming outside. The owner began yelling at the boys, and scolding them for not looking at the receipt and kept pointing at the cashier inside. Jeff could have driven away, but instead he rolled down his window and yelled to the owner, "Do you want to see my receipt?" The owner came over, looked at the receipt, which clearly stated that Jeff had purchased five 50 pound bags. The owner then said, "Oh, she told me you bought five 25 pound bags." Jeff said, "Can I go home now?"

What made the owner question the cashier about Jeff's purchase? I doubt he does that for every customer. He clearly thought Jeff was trying to get away with taking home more salt than what he paid for. I felt bad for the young boys, who got yelled at for doing nothing wrong. I hope the owner apologized to them, because he certainly didn't apologize to Jeff.

Ho, ho, ho.

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