Saturday, September 1, 2012

an apology to fried chicken and the universe

This past week has not been my finest.

I have ticked off people right and left.

At last count, it was 4.

There could be more, because I have the gift of social blindness where sometimes my mouth spilleth over, people look at me in horror, and I never realize it.  So, it really could be more like 12.

Anyway, I had what I am now calling the "fried chicken incident" with a local grocery chain.  It was not my finest moment.

We stopped by to purchase some fried chicken to take to our church picnic.

I go to the deli where the fried chicken is located.  The chicken is in 2 covered containers with tongs sticking out of them and bags and boxes located right next to it.  There is a sign that says "8 piece chicken - $6.99".  There is another sign that says "Please call ahead for large orders of fried chicken".  I look to see if there is an employee b/c I figured maybe I needed a sticker or something.  After standing there for awhile, I finally decided that since the tongs were there sticking out, maybe I was supposed to just get my own chicken.  Which I did.

Now, let me just say that I don't live under a rock.  I know that an "8 piece chicken" usually refers to 2 wings, 2 legs, 2 thighs & 2 breasts.  However, when I started looking through the chicken, I only saw one thigh.  So then I looked to see if the sign specified how many of each.  It did not.  So I got the one thigh, 2 legs, and 5 breasts.  8 pieces.  I double bagged it so it wouldn't be greasy and went to the checkout.

Here's how the checkout went down:
Clerk (holding the chicken):  "You didn't get a sticker?"

Me:  "No, the sign says 8 pieces for $6.99.  I have 8 pieces."

Clerk:  "Well, I have to weigh it and you pay by the pound if I don't have a sticker and it's really expensive."

Me:  "That's not what the sign says, but that's fine.  I just need the chicken."

The clerk calls over a supervisor & explains.
Supervisor (with a raised eyebrow): "Do you have 2 wings, 2 legs, 2 thighs, and 2 breasts?"

Me:  "No.  The sign did not specify what to get.  Also, there was only one thigh back there, so how could I get 2 thighs?"

Supervisor:  "Well, you're supposed to get someone to help you."

Me (starting to get mad, but still calm):  "Well, there wasn't anyone back there and I stood there for a long time."

Supervisor: "Sometimes you have to go over to the deli and ask for help."

Me: "Why are there tongs facing the customer side if I'm not supposed to get the chicken myself?"

Supervisor: "That's for people who just want to get like one piece of chicken.  You have to get help if you want a lot of chicken.  There's a sign."

Me (full on mad at this point because I'm arguing about fried chicken):  "Yes, I read the signs.  They say "8 piece chicken $6.99 and call ahead for large orders.  I didn't think 8 pieces was a large order.  That seems pretty standard to me."

Supervisor (jamming the key into the register and rolling her eyes):  "Well, I don't know why there's nobody back there and there IS a sign."

Me (shaking with rage):  "IT SHOULDN'T BE THIS HARD TO BUY CHICKEN. I know none of this is your fault, but maybe you should tell the store manager to change the layout back there by either removing the tongs or making a 12-step instruction manual to purchase fried chicken."  I didn't say the part about the 12 step instruction manual, but I thought it.

Supervisor overrides the price and walks away.
Clerk:  "I'm really sorry."
Me: "It's ok, not your fault."
I left with my chicken and we ended up not going to the church picnic.  So then we ate the chicken for dinner and also for dinner the next day.  I'm pretty sure there's a Bible verse somewhere about eating fried chicken in anger on the corner of a roof gives you heartburn or something.

I don't know why, but little things like this sometimes send me over the moon.  I stewed about that chicken all afternoon.  Finally, I decided to go online & complain.  A few days later, I got an email which apologized for my experience and said they would send me a $25 gift card.

It took everything in me not to send back an email that said keep your gift card, I'm still mad.   Instead, I sent an email and said thank you very much for your response and for the gift card.

Like I said earlier, I have done shenanigans like this all week long to no less than 4 people.   This is the only one safe to blog about because if I talked about the other ones, people would know who I am talking about. I feel the need to apologize to fried chicken for bringing it down to my level and also to the rest of the universe for generally being a troll this week.

I'm pretty sure I've reached a new low since I just apologized to fried chicken.
Feel better about yourself?  You're welcome.




6 comments:

  1. I love you, Alissa! Hmm are ya gonna buy more fried chicken with that gift card? Sorry, just had to. :)

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    Replies
    1. I just might. I could get 24 pieces plus maybe have a few bucks left. And a nervous breakdown for free because 24 is probably considered a large order and you have to call ahead for that. The sign says.

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  2. You know you come from a long line of people who do things like this. It is in your genes. If you could remember MaMaw Blackford, you would realize that this is a dominant gene carried by the women in the lineage. I am proud of you girl! Love Aunt Kate

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    1. If I could choose any gene to be sure to get, the crazy one is the one I'm happy time have. I think I may have more than one. Maybe.

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    2. I'm feeling like you are running out of things to say. You are repeating yourself a lot lately.

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    3. Thanks for pointing that out. I deleted the double comments and now your reply doesn't make sense. Except that I actually do repeat myself a lot. It's part of the crazy gene.

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