Patriot Day and other thoughts for a Monday

Today in history:

In 1962, the Beatles made their first record for EMI, "Love Me Do" and "P.S. I Love You," at EMI studios in London.

(Wow...did you ever think we'd be down to two Beatles, and one of them is divorcing his gold-digging ex-supermodel wife and guarding his millions like a Rottweiler? I sure didn't.)

I'm sorry...I just wanted to start today's entry off on a light note. Forgive me.

Anyway, let's get started.

Go here to read my memories of 9/11...to commemorate the fifth anniversary. I should have saved it for today, but at the time I felt I should write about it.

Feel free to share your stories in the comments.

Where were you when it happened? How did it change your view of the world?

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I do have a little weekend story to share. While it's not a story of greed, sex and murder, explosive liquids were marginally involved.

I was running late for an appointment on Saturday morning. I had to stop for gas so I used our neighborhood Shell station since time was of the essence. The pump I went to was acting funky on top of everything. I inserted my debit card three times without success, and the little digital display finally said "Please see attendant". So I made my way to the cashier's counter, but a guy that was standing outside in a Shell polo shirt and shorts asked if he could help me.

I told him that for some reason my debit card wasn't working and the display said to see the attendant. He said he'd help me, and ran my card through one more time. Magically, the pump worked. (*NOTE: Sarcasm was employed in that previous sentence.)

So anyway, the pump is working, yay rah, go team. So NOW this guy is trying to sell me a punch card that will give me discounts for oil changes, tire rotations, etc.

Oh yeah.

Furthermore, as a salesman, he sucked. Why? He didn't LISTEN to my reasons.

I basically said that I was in a hurry and I didn't want to make a decision of that nature without my fiance present. I was serious about it too. (Maybe I was expecting too much for him to actually read between the lines? Perhaps, but I don't care.)

I guess he didn't want the sale badly enough because he didn't want to volunteer additional information about when he'd be back, that the promotion wasn't going on too much longer yet failing to give a cut-off date, and not having a pamphlet to give me that outlined the punchcard program. Oh well, no sale from me and it sucks to be him. He got this expression on his face like I'd burned down his house and sold his dog on the black market or something.

However, when I go inside the cashier zone to get a soda and Ding Dongs (the breakfast of champions), the cashier asks me if everything's OK.

I said, "Yes, except for that pushy salesman outside."

Little did I know that the pushy salesman was behind me. I would have been more apologetic if he hadn't been such a yutz in the first place, but then he starts embarrasing me in public, saying, "You were perfectly nice to me outside, and now I'm pushy? Why are you talking about me behind my back?"

It was all I could do to not poke his eyes out with my car keys. I just grumbled and left.

I hate that crap. I really do. It's bad enough when you're not interested in a service, but then when the salesman continues to berate you, it just really makes you want to break limbs when you're not a violent person.

Oh well.

I'm going to create a separate entry for the rest of my stuff as I feel I've gone on long enough about the creepy Shell guy.

Be right back...

Sudiegirl