It was about 1:45 when I landed in Atlanta this past Sunday afternoon, and as soon as I got off the plane, I came up with a plan. I had a little over an hour until my flight to Birmingham, so I wanted to get to my gate, grab a sandwich, eat some lunch, and hopefully have time for a round or two of Candy Crush while I sipped on a pre-flight two-pump pumpkin spice latte’.

Listen. Sometimes a mental to-do list is the only thing that gets me through the day. And also caffeine.

So I hopped on the subway / tram thing for a ride to the next terminal, found my gate, stopped at Atlanta Bread Company for a sandwich, then tried to gauge whether or not there was time for a PSL. Since the line at Starbucks was surprisingly short, I decided that time was in fact on my side. I ran in the restroom, washed my hands, dashed over to Starbucks, and within about five minutes, I had a PSL in my possession. The only thing missing was the actual crushing of the candies, and I planned to remedy that ASAP.

I found a seat at my gate with enough room around it for all my paraphernalia, and after a few sips of coffee, I was more than ready to tackle the quests after level 50. It was time to make some stripes, make some wrappers, and make the long-awaited transition to level 51. Hallelujah. Amen.

Unfortunately, there was just one tiny little problem: I couldn’t seem to find my phone.

And as I mentally retraced my steps, I realized that the last time I had my phone in my hands, I was walking in the restroom. Ten minutes ago.

Needless to say, this memory neither comforted nor encouraged me.

As quickly as I could, I gathered up my purse, my coffee, and my big ole tote bag, and I ran back to the restroom. I looked on the floor, on the countertop next to the sink, in the open stalls, but that phone was nowhere to be found.

Oh, y’all. I was just sick about it. Because I don’t know if you know this or not, but if you lose your phone in the Atlanta airport, odds are that it is Gone Forever.

I may have also been having a crisis of conscience about a few gossip-y text messages that were most definitely not written as unto the Lord.

A very sweet restroom attendant told me that I should probably go to lost and found on the first floor, but I was worried that if I tried to get to another part of the terminal, I might miss my flight. So for about thirty seconds, I just stood there in the restroom, wondering what in the world to do, wondering how in the world I could have done something so careless, wondering why in the world I had not PUT MY PHONE BACK IN MY PURSE INSTEAD OF ON A SHELF IN THE RESTROOM.

Somehow, in the midst of all my panic, my brain realized that there was some kind of announcement coming out of the speaker above my head, so I tuned in. What I heard turned out to be the nine most favorite words of my day: “Shopie Hudson, please report to the Delta courtesy desk.” And then again: “Shopie Hudson, please report to the Delta courtesy desk.”

Neveryoumind that he didn’t pronounce my name correctly. I’ll answer to “Shopie” all the livelong day if there’s a possibility that someone may have found my phone. I’ll answer to “Gertrude,” for that matter. “Horace.” TAKE YOUR PICK.

So. After I checked at my gate to make sure that my plane was not about to leave, I asked where I could find the Delta courtesy desk. I then proceeded to run in that direction LIKE MY HAIR WAS ON FIRE. Fortunately I didn’t have to run very far, and as I turned the corner, I saw the face of the sweetest girl – maybe 17 or 18 years old – standing in front of me.

“Shopie!” she said, with the most beautiful Spanish accent. “You lost your phone!”

I couldn’t figure out how in the world she knew the phone belonged to me, but then she held out my phone and turned it around to show me. She’d opened my Facebook app, seen my name – and then she had me paged.

Suffice it to say that I’ve never been happier that I don’t use the passcode option.

My new forever friend and I struggled to communicate a little bit since I’m sort of dependent on English and she’s sort of dependent on Spanish, but I did manage to find out that she lives in Barcelona, Spain. She was traveling with three other members of her family, and I must have thanked all of them 19 or 45 times over the course of about four minutes. At one point I tried to give the girl some money as a reward – I was so grateful and didn’t know what else to do – but she wouldn’t take it. So we said our good-byes and I hugged her neck and I was about to walk away when I remembered that I had five or six copies of my book in my tote bag.

And y’all, I don’t know what came over me, but I dug down in my bag, pulled out a book, and handed it to her.

“Here!” I said. “I wrote a book. I’d like for you to have one. As a thank you. Since you found my phone.”

Because SURE. OF COURSE. I mean, you know what’s all the rage with teenagers in Barcelona these days? SOUTHERN NON-FICTION.

Oh, I can BRING IT with the awkward, can’t I?

So there you have it. I lost my phone. Someone found my phone. Someone returned my phone. And I “rewarded” her with a book that’s written in a language that she more than likely has no interest in reading.

MAKING DREAMS COME TRUE, I AM.

I have to say, though, that I’ve learned some good lessons as a result of the Great iPhone Scare of 2013. I’ve been watching my phone a little more closely, holding it a little more tightly, updating my apps a little more frequently. I’m very thankful that we’re together again.

As a matter of fact, I think I’ll crush some candies right now. Just to celebrate, you understand.

It seems like the right thing to do.

Well, I haven’t been a very good blogger this week, but oh, I have me some reasons.

Four of ’em, actually.

1. Work. It has been lively. Lively in a good way, but lively nonetheless.

2. I am going to Arkansas tomorrow to speak at the AWBU conference. I am excited because I realized the other night that I haven’t been to Arkansas since I went to my cousin Amy’s wedding in Hot Springs when I was about 23. Arkansas, it has been too long.

3. I didn’t want to post on top of the last post because y’all’s comments have been a treasure and a delight and have caused me to clap my hands on occasion. Y’all are feisty. I like that in a person.

4. Well, maybe I just had three reasons. Can’t think of the fourth for the life of me.

So. Some other things.

– I was so tickled to read that that Harry Connick, Jr. is going to be a judge on American Idol next season. IT IS ABOUT TIME. He has always been great as a guest mentor on the show, and I can’t wait to watch him week after week. I get a kick out of south Louisiana folks under pretty much any circumstances, and I think a straight-shootin’ New Orleans boy is exactly what Idol needs. Well, that and a whole lot of talent.

– Several friends have released books in the last month or so, and I am woefully behind in sharing that info. One day next week I’m gonna write a post that’s All About All The Books.

(Hey! Look at that! I believe I just set a goal!)

(You might want to mark this momentous event in some sort of memory book.)

– It’s pumpkin spice latte’ time at Starbucks again, and I for one could not be more thrilled. Upwards of two of you might remember that last year I discovered a pumpkin spice latte’ option that forever changed my life: the two-pump grande PSL. It’s so flavorful but not nearly as syrup-y sweet the regular version, and while I don’t want to overstate it, it’s basically my favorite hot beverage in the history of all time ever. It’s so good, in fact, that I no longer have room for the peppermint mocha in my life. That’s a bold statement, I know, but I’m just speaking my personal coffee truth.

– Finally. Miss America 2014 is next Sunday night, and I am most definitely planning to do the whole bloggy viewing party thing. Certainly the 2013 pageant continues to hold a special place in my heart because, well, THREE TAP ROUTINES IN THE TOP TEN. However, after seeing pictures of Miss Alabama’s gown for next Saturday’s parade, I think it’s clear that the 2014 pageant has all sorts of promise.

source

Something tells me that she’s gonna say “Roll Tide” at some point during her introduction in the parade of contestants. Just a crazy hunch.

Happy Weekend, y’all.

So when I was growing up, there was a pretty standard exchange that would happen when Mama or Daddy would buy something. It went a little something like this.

1. Mama or Daddy would make their selections, ask questions if they had them, and then place whatever they were buying on the counter.
2. The cashier would ring up everything, then say, “That’ll be $9.42” – or whatever the amount happened to be.
3. Mama or Daddy would give the cashier some money.
4. The cashier would give them change and a receipt.
5. The cashier would say, “Thanks so much for your business – y’all come back soon.”
6. Mama or Daddy would say, “You’re welcome. We will.”
7. The end.

It was so simple. Seven steps. Sure, there were some exceptions every once in a while, but by and large, any trip to the store was a clean and orderly process. Easy breezy.

Well.

This past Saturday I went to a store where I shop a pretty good bit (enough that I know the cashiers and the cashiers know me). I needed a few hair care products and some make-up – plus I needed to pick up a prescription. Here’s what happened.

1. I grabbed a buggy and started walking down the make-up aisle.
2. I’d made it about three steps before someone said, “Ma’am, is there anything we can help you with today?”
3. “No – I think I’m good,” I answered. “Just need to pick up a few things on my list.” I waved my list and grinned.
4. “Well, if you don’t mind, when you check out, check out here in cosmetics. It helps us a lot if you do that.”
5. “Oh?” I replied.
6. “Yes ma’am. It really helps us if you’ll check out in cosmetics. So when you get ready, just look for me or the other lady who works in this area.”
7. “Okay – but I have to get a prescription…”
8. “That’s fine! We’ll be here to check you out after you get your prescription.”

Two minutes later.

9. “Ma’am? Are you ready to check out yet?”
10. “Nope – I still haven’t dropped off my prescription.”
11. “Well, be sure to find me or the other lady when you’re ready.”

Ten minutes later. Prescription filled.

12. “Ma’am? Can we help you check out in cosmetics?”
13. “Well, I’m still looking. Just headed over to look at the nail polish.”
14. “Okay – just find me when you get ready.”

Five minutes later, checking out at cosmetics because I’m a pleaser and I didn’t have the courage to go to the regular check-out at the front of the store because I had sort of agreed to check out in cosmetics and oh my word I am a noodle of a human being.

15. “Ma’am, do you have a discount card with us?”
16. “I do, but nothing I’m buying is on sale.”
17. “Well, fortunately I can still offer you a dollar off of all our Sally Hansen nail products today.”
18. “No, thank you.”
19. “Well, I’m going to put a free sample of this moisturizer in your bag. It really does wonders for fine lines, and after about three or four days of use it really resurfaces the skin and gets rid of all those problem areas.”
20. “No, thank you.”
21. “Well, how about a coupon for a discount on this product just in case you’d like to try it?”
22. “No, thank you.”
23. “I don’t know if you noticed up front, but we’re also featuring Buy One, Get One Half Off on some of our Revlon products right now.”
24. “No, thank you.”
25. “All righty. Your total is $36.17.”
26. [swipe debit card, press “not today” when asked if I’d like to donate to charity, then press “no” when asked if I’d like cash back, then finally accept purchase amount]
27. “We hope you’ll shop with us again soon.”
28. Me, in my head: “Oh, ma’am. I don’t think I have the strength.”
29. The end.

I recognize that it’s a tough economy and businesses are looking for new ways to make money – which means that they’re coming up with all sorts of customer programs and discount cards and baskets of candy at the cash register and whatnot. But I would love it – LOVE IT – if I could make it through most purchases without someone asking me if I’d like to sign up for a credit card or receive three free magazines or purchase the deal of the day or join their exclusive member club for the low cost of $20 a year.

Maybe I’m just getting old and crochety. And these are some first world issues, I know (I am so mindful of that, in fact, that I almost didn’t write this post. I totally get that in the grand scheme of life, my frustration with retail selling practices is hardly a blip on the radar of inconvenience). But it just occurred to me over the weekend that I’m increasingly willing to go out of my way to shop at local stores with no discount programs, no up sells, and no incentives at the register – because I find more and more that those stores offer excellent customer service and consistently thank me for my business. Those are little things, I know. But I’m so tired of feeling like my day-to-day purchases just aren’t cutting it unless I earn enough points for the gold level or spin a wheel three times so that I can buy Kleenex for a dollar a box or return to the store in four days with my bonus bucks that will save me upwards of two dollars on something that I don’t even need.

Is it just me? Or does anybody else feel like the up sells / hard sells are a little out of control? I know that it’s not the cashiers’ fault – they’re only doing what their managers ask – but I want to tell those managers (and their managers’ managers, and their managers’ managers) that I’d be a lot more loyal with my business if I weren’t so stinkin’ tired of the fact that when I try to give them my money, it doesn’t seem like that’s enough for them.

And I just needed to vent about that a little bit.

Hope y’all have a lovely Tuesday. And I hope somebody thanks you for your business today. Because that’s a kind and lovely thing for stores to do.

Love,
Old & Crochety in Alabama
(who doesn’t want another discount card for the rest of her whole life ever)