The comment on my blog wasn't enough: I got a phone call from "Acme" about 10 am yesterday. A weird, nasal voice asked for "Mrs. Molly" (another common distortion of our name that drives me as crazy as "Malloy"), saying he was from Acme. For just a minute or two, he had me going--again.
Of course, it was Mike calling from Zurich and, after his unveiling, we had a nice long chat. He had been in Munich first, then Switzerland, but is flying home today. Paula had been in China, but went back yesterday.
Mike said Vivian will be a mermaid for Halloween (I asked how she'd walk and he said she'd "slither along"). They were all going to a Halloween party, Mike as King Triton (?) and Paula as a "mean octopus lady."
Was called by the actual Acme (rather, their parent company, Albertson's) to say they'd have the $37.92 credited back to our account. Decided to go over to tell the perps at Acme it wasn't the bank's mistake after all. When I did, I was greeted with bland indifference by the bookkeeper which, of course, made me even angrier. Asked to see the manager, expressed my annoyance, and he apologized--an utterly meaningless gesture, as it was in response to my mention that nobody had even bothered to say they were sorry for my inconvenience. "Butch"* kept asking, "What could make it better?" and I kept saying, "Nothing." He then asked if he could treat me to dinner.
Say what?! I think I look pretty good for an old lady, but this guy is about thirty. However, if he has some kind of weird yen for mature women...
Hell, even I can't sustain that for long. He suggested I pick out "a couple of steaks" on the house, I kept saying, "no," but finally capitulated, said I preferred salmon, and he accompanied me to the fish counter, then to checkout, where they were put on the tab.
Later I was sorry I ever accepted the damn stuff. Geesh, I was bought off for $7.98! But then I thought of my mantra: "We'll all be dead in fifty years," so what in the world does it matter? Will enjoy my salmon tonight.
* Why will people, especially men, insist on retaining their boyish nicknames into adulthood? It's one thing if it's just the diminutive of a given name--"Mike" or "Bill," say--but "Butch?" Kinda detracts from a serious, businesslike image, donja know?