And this is the one where my mom disowns me...

It's time. To test the maternal relationship in the STQ family.

Chase has a very interesting project in his Math class. It is all about consumer math, and has five parts. We started part one today (and no, it's not due tomorrow. Sheesh - have a little faith, people!). Part one is to go on a "big shop" with your parents and write down all of the prices, then round the prices to the nearest dollar and when totalled, see how far that total is from the actual total. It was very interesting and I discovered a few things:

1. When you are actually LOOKING at the prices before putting things in your cart, you notice just how stinkin expensive the yummy stuff is.
2. You often put the yummy stuff back when you realize just how spendy it is (notice I said OFTEN).
3. You remember the prices when the checker rings you up.

So, as the checker is ringing my groceries up, I notice a few items are not the same price I remembered and that Chase wrote down. Like by a long shot in some cases. I was already causing eye-rolling and heavy sighing from the people behind me with my coupon issues (fodder for another blog), so I decided NOT to argue the $1.22 for tortillas that were clearly marked $1.00 or the $1.81/lb for red onions that were clearly marked $.88/lb. No, I didn't cause a problem, and no, I didn't let my ice cream melt while I complained. I came back later. With my highlighted receipt in hand. And yes, I went to the shelves to double-check and yes, I was right on all of them. So, I marched up to the customer service desk and explained my issue. He refunded me my $4.55 in cash and then just looked at me.

Me: So, is that it? Did you fix the prices?
Him: Um, I gave you your refund.
Me: Yes, but what about the fact that the prices are wrong in the computer?
Him: Oh, I can't fix that.
Me: Well, that doesn't really help anything, now does it? You give me my $4.55 back but what about all of the other people who are buying tortillas, red onions, Downy and Pillsbury cinnamon rolls? What about them?
Him: Sorry, what?

So, I left. As I walked out of the store, I stopped for a second (only two people ran into me with their carts as I stood there, and I'm fine, thanks). I realized that I should talk to the manager. But, I didn't want to talk to the manager. I was annoyed. So, in my infinite wisdom, I decided to write a letter and give them a week to fix the prices before I come buy onions, tortillas, Downy and cinnamon rolls again.

I know, I know, you are wondering WHY, STQ, WHY would your dear sainted Mommi disown you for this post? Cause after I left Wal-Mart, I was feeling a bit smug and like a rabble-rouser. So, I went to Smith's (the local name for Kroger around here) and spent an hour comparing the Wal-Mart prices to the Smith's prices. I was absolutely floored. I know Wal-Mart is not beloved, is often reviled, and even considered the root of many problems facing America today. But, it saved me $53.00 today. FIFTY-THREE DOLLARS in ONE SINGLE TRIP! That, my friends, is some serious savings.

So, Mom, I hope you will still love me and claim me in the morning. Cause I gotta say, I'm a Wal-Mart shopper. Except for produce, cause WM produce is just all kinds of nasty. And meat. Yucky. Maybe with my WM savings, I can afford to shop at Whole Foods for the rest! :)

Maybe I've been out of the South too long but...

...I have discovered that it's possible to be too nice. Yep, I said it. Too. Freakin. Nice. I went to Bank of America the other day to pay our rent because although WE bank at Wells Fargo, our landlord banks at B of A. And B of A apparently has decided that the drivethrough is just not acceptable anymore, so they don't have one. Can you imagine? But, I digress...

So, I waltz in, Wells Fargo check and B of A deposit slip in hand. A Smiling Blonde Woman (SBW) approaches me with a gigantic smile worthy of a Miss America crown.

SBW: Hi, welcome to Bank of America! And what can we do for you today??
Me: Um, I need to make a deposit.
SBW: Oh, is it into your B of A account?
Me: Um, no. I don't bank with B of A, it's my rent.
SBW: Oh. Well, have you thought of banking with us? You could transfe-er it onli-ine (her singsong voice dragging out every possible sylla-ble) .
Me: Nope.
SBW: (No longer smiling, but still blonde) Ok, go see the tellers.
Me: (head bowed slightly in shame) K.

Stand, stand, stand.
(Enter New Smiling Blonde Woman (NSBW) approaching me with a clipboard clutched to her breast)

NSBW: Hello-o, and what can we do for you today?
Me: Um, I need to make a deposit.
NSBW: OH, is it into your B of A account?
Me: Um, I've already been through this once over there (gesturing to SBW who is accosting another victim, I mean greeting another customer) and she passed me through to the tellers.
NSBW: But, don't you HAVE a Bank of America perfect wonderful amazing checking account?
Me: No.
NSBW: Oh. (She is not quite sure what to do with this information)

It's my turn, finally!!! The Teller turns a 100-watt smile on me and says
T: Well, good MORning, and welcome to Bank of AMERica! How can I HELP you?
Me (thinking): For all that is good and holy, please deposit this check so I can get out of this place!!!
Me (saying): (nothing, just pushing the paperwork across the counter)
T: Well, have just the VERY BEST day, Mrs. Wood and PLEASE let us know if we can EVER earn your business here at BANK of AMERica!

I run out as fast as humanly possible.

I know it's good business to be helpful and friendly, but as a SOUTHERNER, for heaven's sake...I beg of you. Stop. Being. So. Nice. To. Me. I may make a sign for my next visit.

Can't they just have one little bitty drivethrough??? :(