Originally Posted by
Calizaire
Minor bitch:
I went to the craft store to buy some acrylic paint primer. It's all locked up in a cage, so ok, I find some gal shelving stuff and ask her to unlock it for me. Gal shakes her head and says, "Oh nooo, no I don't have a key for THAT. You need to go ring the bell."
I return to the cage and see there's a bell you can push. Push bell. Wait. Wait a bit more, push bell again. Wait. Getting annoyed.
Little old lady and some burly dude who looks ridiculous in his red smock finally come. Little old lady asks, "You need something from in there?"
Me: yes
Her: Have you already picked out what you want?
Me: yes, I had some time to think about it while I was waiting for someone to come unlock it. (snark purposely interjected)
Burly dude seems to only be there because this transaction requires a witness?? Like some kinda double key nuclear missile launch bullshit.
They're both eyeballing me like I asked to borrow their car.
Lady asks for my ID. Ummm...ok. I show her. She asks me my birth date. It's ON the freaking license lady! Good job, I'm actually a 17 year old girl who looks 39 and in order to deal with the pain of that, I paid $100 for a fake ID so I could come to Michaels and buy paint illegally to huff it to deal with the pain. You caught me. Then she actually freaking writes down my driver's license number on her little clipboard. She asks me, "what are you using it for?"
Seriously? You're selling a product, I'm buying it, who fucking cares? My inner smart ass says, "Ima huff half of it and when I'm good and fucked up Ima go tag the shit outta some boxcars" but in reality I say, "I going to paint some shells".
Burly dude speaks, "But that's primer, not paint"
Me: "I want to prime the shells first because they tend to absorb the paint a little." Am I REALLY having this conversation?? Am I engaged in some kind of craft debate??
They nod to each other. I guess my story checks out??
She unlocks the cage and asks what I want. I go to reach for it and burly dude moves. She nearly swats me and says, "I will get it." I'm not allowed to touch the paint? She gets my paint, and tells me, "this will be at the counter for you." I'm not to be trusted carrying the paint to the check out. I might be tempted to huff it and/or graffiti the craft store, ya never know. She leaves with her paint cage guard safely. Whew, they survived another day on the paint aisle, they can go home safe to their families tonight.
Check out: I am carded AGAIN for my paint. Checker writes down my license number AGAIN. Only after I have purchased the paint am I allowed to actually touch it.
Jesus effing Christ. I almost *want* to do something illegal with it now!