It's been one of those nights...

I went out to exchange some envelopes that we got for ordination invitations since the ones we got were size 9 instead of size 10 (upon very close inspection, they did say size 9 in about 4 point translucent letters). So out I went into the wind and rain.

I arrived at Fed Ex/Kinko's to exchange the envelopes -- still in the bag in which I purchased them, mind you -- and the man at the counter says he can certainly take them back if I have a receipt. There is no receipt in the bag. He asks the manager, who says, "nope... no way we can take them without a receipt."

I explain that all I want is to exchange them for the correct size.

Dubiously he examines the envelopes and concludes "we don't even sell these."

I explain that in fact they do sell them, and that the display containing them is directly across from him.

Incredulously he inspects the display. Finding that I have spoken the truth, he says "where does it say these are size 9?" (now it may surprise you that he is also unable to locate where these envelopes state they are size 9, but remember that he also couldn't locate the entire display where the envelopes are sold... so I'm not so sure that's a point in my favor).

I point out to him where it says it.

Squinting carefully, he acknowledges the infinitesimally small translucent letters, concludes that this brand does not come in size 10 and says, "I can't exchange these. The size 10s are a different price and I can't refund you on the size 9s without a receipt."

Jaw agape, speechless, stunned silence.

"Sorry."

So I call Fuego... she thinks the receipt might be in the back seat of the car... EUREKA!

I go back in and triumphantly parade my receipt up to the counter. Now there's a line.

Have you ever been in a line at Kinko's? How is it possible that with four people working, they can't seem to help more than one person at a time, and even between the four of them can't seem to manage the competence of ONE normal person?

So ten minutes later, the person in front of me (this WAS the line) is done and it's my turn...

I now find out why it takes ten minutes to help a single person.

She scans my receipt... two minutes later she asks for my phone number... another two minutes later she asks for my name... another two minutes later she asks for my address. Since only six minutes have gone by, I figure I'm doing pretty well. She scans in my new purchase -- refusing the exchange of the package of envelopes which she can't seem to understand why I opened since they were the wrong size (thanks for the GREAT view of my hindsight, ma'am) -- and has me scan my credit card. She has forgotten to push a button... this process having only taken her two minutes, she apparently isn't allowed by corporate to notice her mistake for another two minutes. I finally get to scan my card again and sign my receipt.

Awesome. I've paid an extra $7.50 for the correct sized envelopes and I now have 25 useless sized envelopes for souvenirs.

Off to the bank. Which doesn't add any further injury to the encounter (thank God).

Finally I get to the burrito place where I'm to buy dinner for Fuego and I. It's 9:25pm.

The sign outside says "Closed"

What? But the door says they're open until 9:30! Well... it's unlocked and their clock inside confirms my watch's assessment of the time. I open the door and poke my head in...

"Sorry, we're closed."

"Really?"

"Yup... Sorry."

Never mind the fact that there are two guys who I WATCHED go in while I was getting out of the car and they let them order and buy food... no, they're closed. Awesome.

I call Fuego, drop off the package in the mailbox (an unwanted copy of Lady and the Tramp 2 that the Disney movie club sent even though I jumped through their little internet loop and "declined." They also charged my credit card $28 for it -- how many needless and really bad sequels does Disney need to put out directly to DVD? Are kids today that entertainment starved that their parents have to buy them crap like that to watch?), go to the store to buy beer and milk and something else... must be buns.

Finally I drive home (through the wind and rain).

...

I forgot the stamps.