The Agent was turning 15, we had a shopping plan and a comfortable taxi ride to deliver us to our destination, and it was forecast to be only 145 degrees. Yessiree, Wednesday July 18th, 2018 was shaping up nicely!
I woke extra early to make pancakes, hashbrowns and scrambled eggs for The Agent and The Bodyguard.
I knew they would require extra fuel to keep up with the demands of the day that were sure to present themselves.
The kids and I set out to let Agent 15 shop with her birthday money, and I was aiming, after some advice was given, to locate a cable and adapter that I would need to use a work around, to run my laptop through an independent monitor, were it the case that the HDD might not have been damaged.
Enter WalMart: The Demon's playground
Ok, full disclosure: 
Agent 15 had to find them for me.
I was a deer in the headlights.
Doh!
A deer.
A real short deer.
Hence, the rolled up jeans.
Giggles
Nothing there really interested Agent 15, save the good ol' vintage "Magic 8 Ball" toy. She grabbed it enthusiastically and asked
Am I going to have a good birthday?
Magic 8 Ball:
Very Doubtful
Little did we know then...
And boy, oh boy, it was about to happen alllll over WalMart.
We made our way to the checkout aisles, with our very few items: the cable, adapter, and a multipack of biscuits. Agent 15 wanted chicken and dumplings for her birthday dinner, and I was going to "phone it in" by using ready made biscuits for the "dumplings".
And then the CHAOS began...
Whose blood?
Stick around, Janie, and find out.
She was insistent that there were self-checkout lanes open with no wait,and since I had only 3 items, that would be a much faster, hassle-free way to check out. (irrespective of the fact that if I wanted to check out my own cart's items, I'd work at the damn store! Which, I may wind up having to do anyway, but I digress.)
I let her know that I wanted to purchase a prepaid gift card for Agent 15, so she could spend some of her birthday gift money online, and the purchase and loading of funds on such a card would require that I were to be cashed out by a manned cashier lane, and that a self-checkout lane would be insufficient.
No, no, ma'am. We don't "do that" at cashier's lanes eenymore. Yew'll need to do it at the Money Center. Jist swipe the card with yer other stuff, then take it to the Money Center to put how much you want on it.
This already seems inaccurate, as it's never before been their policy. Something doesn't feel right. So, Jane being Jane, I began to launch a firm, but civil protest.
No, I'd rather just let a cashier do it for me. I've called for a taxi to carry us home, so we have time to wait before it arrives.
She keeps insisting I use the self-checkout lane.
It's at this point I should mention that Agent 15 doesn't handle stress very well, and I can see her anxiety starting to get the better of her. Not wanting to give credence to Magic 8 ball's prophecy, I relent and begrudgingly use the self-checkout lane. I swipe my items, and get to The Card.
A message appears onscreen:
Randall swipes his Lanyard of Authority, and inquires as to the amount I desire to have bestowed upon the bedazzled birthday gift card.
"One hundred dollars, Randall!", I say with pride. ;-)
Bee, boop,boop, boop...boop. Boop.
"That's one too many boops, Randall."
Randall guffaws awkwardly, and subtracts a boop.
Ok. We're getting closer. Mind you, so is the cab. So now I have a new total, increased by $100 that Randall just authorized. The new amount is deducted from the debit card I use to complete the purchase. I bag up my items, and wait to collect my receipt. Sounds easy enough, right? But wait!!!
Suddenly, without warning, multiple receipts begin to be spat out of the printing machine.
What has happened? Which cashier? You mean ...me?
The reluctant one?
The one who didn't want to act as my own cashier IN THE FIRST PLACE!?!?!!
I'm too late. Randall has scurried away in haste.
Ok, Jane. Don't make a (bigger)scene.
Just go over to the Money Center, and load the funds onto the gift card over there.
3 minutes later, and that's been taken care of.
No big deal. You'll have time before the cab gets here to check the handy app to make sure that the refund has...taken...effe...WTH! The refund has, in fact, NOT been credited back to my Credit account!!!
Nope. Lydia tells me that Randall is over in the Customer Service area.
Knowing that the cab has got to be getting close by now, I jump up, directing the kids to stay seated on a nearby bench, and I haul ass over to the Customer Service center to find Randall.
Enter Mikaya
Where's the manager named Randall?! Lydia told me he was over in this area!
No, he's over in the automotive department. But I'm a manager too. Can I help you?
I hope so! Randall authorized this transaction, but the receipt says it couldn't be activated, and that I was supposed to get credit back, and it's not showing up on my debit card as refunded!
Oh. He was supposed to give you that refund back in cash...
BUT HE DIDN'T!!!
Ladies and gentlemen, at this point I am, in fact, making a scene. A BIG one. Mikaya gives me "that look". Y'all know the one, right? The one that says my cab is going to be special, like with pretty blue and red flashing lights on the top of it?
And, I'm not referring to the 'Cash Cab', either.
Not only that, I'm so panicked at the possibility of just having a hundred dollars vanish from my funds, that I literally begin to refer to myself in the 3rd person.
I'm sorry, Mikaya, I didn't mean to yell at you. But, Jane is in a bind, and Jane can't afford to lose a hundred bucks, cuz Jane's family is unemployed, and...
...on and on and on.
I peek back over at the bench, and I can see Agent 15's color vacillating between "Mom's embarrassing me beet red" and "I may lose consciousness ghostly white".
Mikaya excuses herself to retrieve Randall, and returns, alone. She informs me that he should have told me that I would get the refund posted back to my debit card, but that it may take about 5 business days.
I'm fully blinded with rage. However, it is what it is at this point, and there is nothing I can do to change it. At least not with this group of bozos. Knowing that the taxi is bound to be outside waiting for us by now, I gather the kids, and we hurry outside.
No taxi is in sight. Phew. We hadn't missed him yet.
(fast forward 5 minutes.)
Or...had we?
did we miss our ride? I was inside dealing with these idiots...
We had indeed missed our taxi. The dispatcher assures me he will send someone as quickly as possible. It's around 3:45 pm, in Texas, and it's hot as blazes. From what I understand, we're in the middle of a heatwave, smashing historical records that were set in 1925.
I have the kids wait just inside the entryway doors, where it's nice and cool, while I stand outside waiting for our substitute cab. Seeing as how I'm fuming anyway, the heat won't effect me at all.
Waiting for what must have been a good 10 minutes, I figure
What else can go wrong, Jane?
And then...
When we return home, I retell this story to my dear friend
"CHAOS and disaster. Can't leave you unsupervised for a minute."
(insert custom logo thingy here)
(image sources: pixabay.com / Jane's own smartphone) Bonus :Agent 15's arrival
