Why Getting Out of Your Car Is Not All that it Used to Be

So I'm happily reveling in my stay-cation having had yummy pasta with Ann at Bertucci's and having distributed various and sundry Lindt truffles to my favorite people at the Library.

Light of heart, I resolve to do errands.  Now, usually, I leave that for a Saturday when I'm well rested and have nothing else to do for the day.  But I was in a good mood and wanted to stay on a roll and accomplish those things at a leisurely pace.  I got some cash, going into my bank because no matter how close I get to an ATM, my arms seem too short.  That was a good transaction.  Then I drive to the bank that holds my mortgage.

"Hi, I'd like to put this check onto this loan (handing her my mortgage bill with the account number), but I didn't know how to make out the check."

Blank stare. (I admit: it was a teller with training wheels on and her helper sat next to her.)

"So I make it payable to ... ?"  The trainer supplies the bank name. (I had thought maybe I had to put the loan number in the payable to slot.)  The trainer says, "You need a ..." and she never finishes her sentence, but she does retrieve a purple slip and tells the trainee how to fill it in and give me a receipt.

It dawns on me that if I want to prepay on the principle and mail it in, I might need some of those purple slips.  I'm surprised that the experienced teller didn't offer some to me.  But I get a stack and I proceed happily, feeling all virtuous, to Best Buy.

I can't tell you how frustrated I was yesterday to find that my Igo phone charger had disappeared from my car.  It has multiple tips so that I can charge my cell phone in the car and then change the tip and charge my GPS in the car.  The only problem is that I need a new tip for my new GPS.  But now, alas, the whole cord was gone, gone, gone.  Knowing that I had gotten the original with Emily at Radio Shit, er Radio Shack, I figured Best Buy would have the same stuff and I could enter without going into the mall proper.

This was my third exit from the car.  I spoke to the man stationed at the entrance.  He seemed to be very intent on using his phone.
"Do you sell Igo phone chargers?" I asked using my sweetest old lady voice.
"I dunno," looking around, "he might know but he's busy.  Oh, wait," and he accosts someone stacking shopping carts.

"Are you using a USB?" I look confused and reply, "It's a phone charger that you plug into your car and it has multiple tips for an Android phone and a GPS."  (I left out 8 other questions from the guy, but you get the idea.)  He stalks off.

"Is he going to bring it here or should I follow him?"
"I dunno."  I wait.

The guy comes back with two packages with usb ports the size of last year's tank.  No, thanks for looking.

Not wanting to move the car (getting in and out again) I walk over to Radio Shack, inside the mall.  I'm beginning to flag.

"Do you have Igo car chargers with multiple tips?"
"We don't sell Igo any more."
"What do you sell that is equivalent?"
"We don't sell anything with multiple tips."

And because it was close and I was at the top of my frustration meter, I walked across the way to JO-AN FABRICS. Yes, their sign really does yell at me.  I stayed near the front where there's only crap that you want but don't need -- no fabric.  I only bought two bags of Wilton candy melts.  Well, maybe I did buy some Christmas ribbon ...

At this point, I limp out of the door.  It's not really a limp, but my gait would only be appropriate on the deck of a boat in three foot waves.  And then I remember: I still need at least three driveway reflectors.  I had bought the last one at Walmart last week.  At this point, Target is only a few hundred yards away so I amble over there.

Luckily, the "service desk" is near the entrance I used. There were three people doing nothing.  (Their last customer left as I approached.)

"Do you sell driveway reflectors?"

With a whoosh of her head indicating the far corner, she says, "If we had them, they would be in automotive."  Now, I'm starting to get cranky from the pain in my lower back and I don't want to wander a quarter mile to find out that they don't have any.

"Don't you have a phone to call someone or a list that you can check to see if you have some because I'm having difficulty walking?"

Short head whoosher gets all huffy and speaks as if to a backward child saying, "Yes, we can call someone if I can find the walkie talkie."

She proceeds to pick up the walkie talkie and say, "Do we have any auto deflectors?"

"What?" 
  
I say, "Driveway reflectors."

"Do we have any auto reflectors?"

"Huh?"

I say, "Driveway."

Frowny face, "Do we have any driveway reflectors?"

"No."

"Thanks very much," I say as I'm walking away and she's telling me to try another store.

And they wonder why most people are buying online.  Hmpf!

I get back into my car, which is now three stores away, and gratefully drive into my garage.  Thinking that this would be a good time to clear the paper ads that never got into the house from the passenger's side of the floor, I do that.  And underneath is my Igo.  Now I just need a tip that fits my new GPS!