January 24, 2012
A guest called the Target yesterday and spoke to the phone operator. The guest told her that she had received some great guest service while in the store including a tremendous checkout experience with a gentleman she thought was Indian. The operator relayed this over the walkies and I replied that it was probably me at the checklanes. In reality, we have a gentleman named Nalin that works as a cashier who is awesome and has worked at our store for years. All our regulars know him and love him and he is very Indian-like from India. Therefore, me claiming this compliment as my own was obviously me up to no good. The operator said she was pretty sure it was not me, but as a check, could I say something in Indian. All I could come up with was, "Maize, you call it corn."
Of course, about 5 people my age even knew what I was talking about. It was an old commercial for a butter substitute, Mazola maybe? I will look it up.
1976! Are you kidding me! Why can I not remember the 3rd president of the United states, but I can remember a Mazola commercial from 1976?
As a wrap up to this story, Beth suggested that I should have said Chicken Tikka Masala as an example of the Indian language. While my family loves Indian food, I am not sure much of my crowd would have gotten that one either. Do you think they use Mazola margarine on Indian food? Probably not. By the way, if you are using my blog as a scholastic resource similar to Wikipedia, the official language of India is Hindi.
So tomorrow is my birthday. I will be 47. Beth went to the mall last night to try and find me a gift, but came home with a sample from Sephora. Not for me, I am a Winter and the colors look like somebody that is a Spring. Besides, whenever I try to apply makeup, I end up looking like Dee Snider from Twisted Sister. Not a good look.
Buying gifts for me is never a satisfying experience. What do you get the man who wants for nothing. However, I am going to use my day off today to try to think of something I want. I gave Beth a couple of eyebrow lifts when I was thinking of what I want, and her initial reaction was, "Ooooooh, gross!!" Now, why would her instant reaction be, that I am a creepy perve. I was thinking a little candle light, some soothing music, Breakfast at Tiffany's, some good conversation, and some cuddling. Perhaps she will even let me paint her toenails. Maybe that is the gross part, I do not know where her mind went. I have never even seen Tiffany's toes.
Oprah used to be able to come up with a show every year about her favorite things. I am guessing she would have no trouble coming up with a plan for her birthday. Is this because she had money and no children? Is it because she was, and still is, a woman? I realize I have very few female readers and even fewer (like zero) male readers, but is it this difficult for everyone to come up with a birthday plan? Does it correlate with having children, or money, or male parts?
I am going to guess it is just me. I have never enjoyed getting gifts as they were usually accompanied by feelings of guilt that people spent money on me. Therefore, I never made it easy to pick out something. And, I do not have a hobby or pleasure activity. I have had my sports teams over the years, and am still rather loyal to most of them, but tickets to go see them are expensive. And then what if they lose? Getting and wearing or flaunting paraphanalia of my teams has never been a good idea since they usually lose more than they win.
I am neither a techno geek (technology, not the music) nor a clothes hound. I don't play golf anymore or go on trips with the boys. I like spending time with my family and seeing them be happy.
I sound like the type of person whose name you would dread pulling out of the secret santa hat. You can either pity Beth for wanting to get me a gift and having no idea what to buy, or you can pity me for having to live with me all these years. Actually, don't do that, I am good. I am living the good life over here.
I am going to pick up some Indian food, get a dessert they can stick 47 candles in, and get some make up that will make me feel pretty. I hope the mall has some courtesy wheel barrows.