August 10 – “Like a woman in a car dealership”

I had an experience the other day that can only be compared to what I believe a woman must go through when she tries to buy a car alone.  Not that I have ever been a woman trying to buy a car alone, but I have seen how the salesmen seem to look right through Chris the few times we have been together.  They always talk to me like I know everything there is to know about cars by virtue of the fact that I am of the male species.  They have no idea that Chris has more expertise on cars than I do.  In fact much of what I know I learned from her.  How's that for a confession?   Anyway.  I had to go into Texas to make a hospital visit, so Chris asked if I would stop by Hobby Lobby on my way home.  Apparently they were having a big sale in the fabric department, and she also wanted some more of those little silver extender things you add to your scrapbook to make it bigger so more pages will fit.  I figured that would work out fine, since I had to go there anyway to look for another offering box for church.  We need one at each door.    So into Hobby Lobby I went.  The boxes were easy.  Went right to the wood section and found what would work fine.  Scrapbooking section was a bit more difficult to find, but once I located it, it was just a matter of walking up and down the aisles and searching through every single one of those tiny little hanging things until I saw something that looked familiar.  Of course then I had to figure out what size to get.  She didn't mention that they come in a myriad of sizes.  I finally just grabbed the one inch long ones and called it good.   That left the fabric.  I admit I left that for last.  Oh, I knew where the fabric department was.  I had been there with Chris on several occasions.  I just feel uncomfortable there.  I'm afraid they might ask me what color something is or whether some fabric goes with another.  It's a holdover from my days working at the Sears men's wear department when I had to pretend I knew all that kind of stuff.  Back then I made a deal with a lady who worked with me.  Her name was Cookie.  Great name.  Sweet lady.  Whenever I had a customer and gave her the panic sign, she would position herself behind the customer and give me the thumbs up or down sign on matching stuff.   I felt fairly confident going in this time, though.  I was armed with the newspaper ad that had the specific item circled and the amount Chris wanted written in to the side.  Warm and natural batting (whatever that was).  Two strips of 1 ½ yards each.  Something to do with quilting.  Got it.  I didn't even attempt to find it myself.  I went straight to the help desk and stood around looking helpless.  Not that difficult.  One of the ladies finally realized I wasn't attached to one of the other female customers, so she apologized and asked if I needed help.  I was glad to have that particular one.  The other lady had a very thick German accent and frankly scared me to death.  I told her I definitely needed some help and pointed to the ad.  She took me over to where the batting was and went into a monologue about the benefits of white and creamy over warm and natural.  She asked if I was sure my wife wanted warm and natural.  I assured her she did.  She pressed, "Are you positive?  Perhaps you'd like to call her and ask to make sure?"  OK.  Now I was actually beginning to enjoy her performance, so I decided to make it worth her while.  I agreed to give Chris a call and let her decided "since I obviously had no idea."  Problem was, Chris didn't answer her phone.  So I told the lady to stick with what was written on the paper and cut me some fabric.    The cutting was a bit difficult because she had to completely clear off a table to do it.  Once she got the first strip cut and figured out a price, she turned to leave.  I stopped her and asked about the other one, and she said, "Oh, you wanted two?" Again, I showed her the ad with the designated amount desired on the side.  She got the fabric cut, and I thanked for helping me.  She smiled condescendingly and commanded me to have a nice day.  I shudder to think what my experience would have been like with the scary clerk.  Thank you, God for small blessings.   Psalms 67:1-2 says, "May God be gracious to us and bless us and make his face shine upon us, that your ways may be known on earth, your salvation among all nations."   Father, I do thank you for blessings.  They come in all shapes and sizes.  Amen.