Yesterday a store sold me the wrong buspass. Well, excreta occurus, so I took it back today (unusued – funnily enough I can’t use it on the buses that actually take me home) and they refused to refund it. Again, fair enough, they’re not allowed, it has to go straight back to Stagecoach. (Who, incidentally, I called, and they gave me all the details no problem. The refund won’t be questioned provided I haven’t used the pass, and, again, I can’t use it on the buses I take, so no problem.)
Except in the 20 minutes I’d been waiting in the damn store I’d had my (heavy) backpack on the floor by my feet. And so, of course, when they gave me all the info I needed, I shoved it all in my bag. On the floor. Because, y’know, there’s food goes over their counters, so I’m not putting it there.
And I got searched on suspicion of shoplifting on my way out the doors.
What. The. Fuck.
I was good. I was, in fact, extraordinatily polite. And once they told me I was free to go, I did explain, very politely, exactly how RIDICULOUS the situation was, and they agreed. To be fair, the security guards had had no clue what was going on, just saw me loitering for 20 minutes and then shoving stuff in my bag and leaving.
To add further amusement to my day, my bra underwire popped out. I am very very please I keep safety pins in my wallet, as I could rectify the problem, after a strip in the bathroom.
Apparently the world doesn’t like me starting new jobs.