Enterprise Doors
Aug. 6th, 2013 10:58 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bloodyrosemccoyFor some years now the grocery store nearest our house has been slowly descending into a dystopian wasteland. The setup is haphazard, the bakery and deli are half-assed at best, most of the stock is from this terrible off-brand company that seems to make all of its products from soup to pecans with a 3D printer, and the most helpful employee in the store seems like the kind of guy whose most treasured possession is a chainsaw named after his mother.* It has become an unpleasant experience.
So we've started going to a farther away, but much more pleasant store, which is like sunshine and butterflies compared to the nuclear winter of our local place. It's got friendly staff, delicious local artisan organic free range everything, lovingly set up displays, delicious chicken salad sandwiches, and an all-around better selection of products. And it only occasionally tries to kill you.
Today, for instance. Today Mom and I were walking in for a shopping run for the office, and Mom was straight up assaulted in the doorway. By the door.
As it turns out, getting whacked in the ribs by a rogue automatic sliding door is REALLY GODDAMN PAINFUL. Mom couldn't even indulge in some therapeutic swearing, because after an initial "FUCK" whooshed out of her all her breath was gone. She staggered in and sat down. We both decided that it was important to tell someone about this, if for no other reason than that the store is constantly swarming with really old people (I guess old people like pleasant grocery stores, too) and if that door hit a little old lady with osteoperosis, it might crush her to powder. So we asked for a manager.
HELPFUL LOUD GIRL: YEAH, THE DOOR IS BROKEN. I'M SORRY, I THOUGHT IT WAS STUCK! IT HIT YOU? I'LL GET SOMEONE!
THE SOMEONE SHE GOT: What's up?
HELPFUL LOUD GIRL: THE DOOR HIT HER! I'M GOING TO GO TURN IT OFF COMPLETELY BECAUSE IT HIT HER AND THAT'S DANGEROUS AND IT'S WARM ENOUGH WE CAN JUST TURN IT OFF AND LEAVE IT OPEN SO I'LL DO THAT NOW!
CUSTOMER AT SELF-CHECK-OUT, WHERE HELPFUL LOUD GIRL IS SUPPOSED TO BE STATIONED: Can I get my 5ยข bag discount please?
HELPFUL LOUD GIRL: JUST AS SOON AS I TURN OFF THIS DOOR SO IT DOESN'T HIT ANYONE ELSE!
MOM: *wheeze*
THE SOMEONE: I'll go get a manager.
THE SOMEONE: in the distance Manager! Some lady slammed into the door!
ME: I could write a linguistics monograph on how she worded that.
MOM: Ha--OW. Don't make me laugh.
ME: Are you going to live?
MOM: I think I bruised a rib. I'll let you know if my lung starts to collapse.
HELPFUL LOUD GIRL: I TURNED THE DOOR OFF. I THINK THAT'S BEST. I DIDN'T ASK MANAGEMENT BECAUSE I KNOW THIS IS WHAT THEY WANT AND WE DON'T WANT ANYONE ELSE HURT AND--
ME: Thank you! That's good! I think that self-check-out lady is going to whack you with a mop in a second.
HELPFUL LOUD GIRL: OH, RIGHT. BUT THE DOOR IS OFF, JUST SO YOU KNOW!
MANAGER: I am concerned about this.
ME: Join the club.
MOM: Nah, I can walk it off, it's a good hurt. I just won't inhale for a few days.
MANAGER: Are you going to hypothetically see a doctor?
MOM: No plans at the moment, but I'll keep you informed.
MANAGER: Are you going to sue us, hypothetically?
ME: That depends. Are you hypothetically interested in giving us some free chicken salad sandwiches?
MOM: Shut up, dear. As to suing you, I'm thinking no. I just want this written down somewhere.
So we got that all squared away and continued shopping. All the other employees expressed concern over Mom's clearly pained demeanor. It was still the nicest damn grocery store we'd ever been to.
ME: I knew there had to be something wrong with this place.
MOM: And yet we still prefer it to our local dystopia.
ME: Well, sure. That off-brand Soylent Green they sell is awful. Probably not even made of real people.
Our luck this week had better improve, because with Mom's flattening and my brother's broken hand, we've got two casualties heading into Family Awesome Time. Here's hoping nobody gets eaten by a bear or something.
*He is actually pretty helpful, though. Never says a word, but if you ask him where something is he'll immediately leave whatever he was doing and lurch off silently, and if you follow him he'll lead you directly to the item. Then he vanishes like a ghost back to the stockroom or wherever.
So we've started going to a farther away, but much more pleasant store, which is like sunshine and butterflies compared to the nuclear winter of our local place. It's got friendly staff, delicious local artisan organic free range everything, lovingly set up displays, delicious chicken salad sandwiches, and an all-around better selection of products. And it only occasionally tries to kill you.
Today, for instance. Today Mom and I were walking in for a shopping run for the office, and Mom was straight up assaulted in the doorway. By the door.
As it turns out, getting whacked in the ribs by a rogue automatic sliding door is REALLY GODDAMN PAINFUL. Mom couldn't even indulge in some therapeutic swearing, because after an initial "FUCK" whooshed out of her all her breath was gone. She staggered in and sat down. We both decided that it was important to tell someone about this, if for no other reason than that the store is constantly swarming with really old people (I guess old people like pleasant grocery stores, too) and if that door hit a little old lady with osteoperosis, it might crush her to powder. So we asked for a manager.
HELPFUL LOUD GIRL: YEAH, THE DOOR IS BROKEN. I'M SORRY, I THOUGHT IT WAS STUCK! IT HIT YOU? I'LL GET SOMEONE!
THE SOMEONE SHE GOT: What's up?
HELPFUL LOUD GIRL: THE DOOR HIT HER! I'M GOING TO GO TURN IT OFF COMPLETELY BECAUSE IT HIT HER AND THAT'S DANGEROUS AND IT'S WARM ENOUGH WE CAN JUST TURN IT OFF AND LEAVE IT OPEN SO I'LL DO THAT NOW!
CUSTOMER AT SELF-CHECK-OUT, WHERE HELPFUL LOUD GIRL IS SUPPOSED TO BE STATIONED: Can I get my 5ยข bag discount please?
HELPFUL LOUD GIRL: JUST AS SOON AS I TURN OFF THIS DOOR SO IT DOESN'T HIT ANYONE ELSE!
MOM: *wheeze*
THE SOMEONE: I'll go get a manager.
THE SOMEONE: in the distance Manager! Some lady slammed into the door!
ME: I could write a linguistics monograph on how she worded that.
MOM: Ha--OW. Don't make me laugh.
ME: Are you going to live?
MOM: I think I bruised a rib. I'll let you know if my lung starts to collapse.
HELPFUL LOUD GIRL: I TURNED THE DOOR OFF. I THINK THAT'S BEST. I DIDN'T ASK MANAGEMENT BECAUSE I KNOW THIS IS WHAT THEY WANT AND WE DON'T WANT ANYONE ELSE HURT AND--
ME: Thank you! That's good! I think that self-check-out lady is going to whack you with a mop in a second.
HELPFUL LOUD GIRL: OH, RIGHT. BUT THE DOOR IS OFF, JUST SO YOU KNOW!
MANAGER: I am concerned about this.
ME: Join the club.
MOM: Nah, I can walk it off, it's a good hurt. I just won't inhale for a few days.
MANAGER: Are you going to hypothetically see a doctor?
MOM: No plans at the moment, but I'll keep you informed.
MANAGER: Are you going to sue us, hypothetically?
ME: That depends. Are you hypothetically interested in giving us some free chicken salad sandwiches?
MOM: Shut up, dear. As to suing you, I'm thinking no. I just want this written down somewhere.
So we got that all squared away and continued shopping. All the other employees expressed concern over Mom's clearly pained demeanor. It was still the nicest damn grocery store we'd ever been to.
ME: I knew there had to be something wrong with this place.
MOM: And yet we still prefer it to our local dystopia.
ME: Well, sure. That off-brand Soylent Green they sell is awful. Probably not even made of real people.
Our luck this week had better improve, because with Mom's flattening and my brother's broken hand, we've got two casualties heading into Family Awesome Time. Here's hoping nobody gets eaten by a bear or something.
*He is actually pretty helpful, though. Never says a word, but if you ask him where something is he'll immediately leave whatever he was doing and lurch off silently, and if you follow him he'll lead you directly to the item. Then he vanishes like a ghost back to the stockroom or wherever.
