I've been selling some of my daughter's
So, that was the first thing that put me in a foul mood. Plus, getting in and out of the car in a driving rain (with child in tow) was not helping matters much. I then drove across town to buy tickets to a Halloween event for next weekend (held at a state historical park). I had emailed the place last week to ask about buying tickets, because the line is always very long (and very slow-moving) if you buy them at the door on the day of the event. I received a friendly reply that yes, they were selling tickets ahead of time. I checked the website. They are open 10-4:30 on Saturday. Great!
The kid and I entered the main building and saw a note at the front desk indicating that visitors should ring the bell if no one was at the desk. Let me just say that I HATE ringing a desk bell. It's like saying, "Hey! Look at me, everybody! I'm an asshole who couldn't wait ten seconds for someone to help me!" I meekly rang the bell. Ding! No one came. A and I then took turns ringing it every couple of minutes, building to a DING DING DING crescendo. Finally, a man came to the desk.
"Hi," I said. "I'd like to buy tickets for the Halloween event."
"Oh, we're not open." He smiled at me like this should make sense to me.
"Um, the website clearly states that you're open, but can I just buy the tickets?"
"I can't. I don't have a cash drawer." He opened the drawer to show me that it was empty.
I was getting irritated. "Well, can I just write a check?"
He shook his head no and repeated his schpiel about the cash drawer. My thinking was that he could just take the check and, you know, put it in the magical drawer and then deal with it later, seeing as how none of this was my problem. Eventually, I gave up and left. By now I was soaked and grumpy. "How about we go to Pizza Ranch?" I proposed. My daughter had been lobbying for Noodles & Company but was okay with the change of plan. We had never been to Pizza Ranch but wanted to give it a shot because my wee baby sister went to one in Iowa and said it would change my life.
Pizza Ranch is a buffet joint. When we paid at the front counter, I asked the cashier if there would be cheese pizza on the buffet. I mentioned that we are vegetarian. She said there usually is, but said she would put in a special order for us just to make sure. The kid and I started with a salad. Her definition of salad = iceberg lettuce swimming in a sea of ranch dressing. After that, we headed to the pizza buffet. Each type of pizza is marked with a little placard. I spotted one that said, "Guest Request." "This must be for us," I told the kid. We each grabbed a slice of the cheese pizza. Back at the table, I took a bite of the pizza. It smelled funny. I lifted up the cheese and found . . . pepperoni. "Son of a . . . !" At this point I assumed that when I left the restaurant, I'd find four flat tires on my car. Or that I'd run over a kitten on my way home or something.
The kid loved Pizza Ranch and made me promise to take her back again. I gave a vague response so as not to flat-out lie to her. Maybe my sister should take her. The two of them can bond over their shared love of mediocre pizza.
So yeah, Saturday essentially sucked. Later in the day, we took the kid to a Halloween event at the zoo. It was drizzling the whole time. However, looking on the bright side, we almost had the place to ourselves. Normally this event is crowded beyond all belief. She looked super-cute in her costume. She got a lot of compliments on it from some of the volunteers who were working at the trick-or-treat stations. I think most women can recognize (and appreciate the awesomeness of) a costume handmade by a loving Meemaw vs. the off-the-shelf variety.
Anyway, that was my Saturday. I am going to give Saturday another chance next week but if it's anything like yesterday, we are going to have words.