I've decided that old ladies are a separate species. Especially the ones that live south of the Georgia and Alabama borders. Or south of Orlando. There's something about sand and sun that pickles the mind.
This absolutely charming old dear came up to Customer Service today with one of those $4.97 Cover Girl compacts. She said she didn't like the color and wanted to go look for something new. Fine. I don't understand why people have to actually take the makeup home, use it until it is half gone and ONLY THEN discover it is "not their shade" - but hey, "it's Wal-Mart, we take anything back."
She doesn't want a gift card, she actually wants to go out, find a new shade and do an exchange. So I shove the bag under my register and tell her to go get the new one and come back. She trots off in her little seafoam and aqua pants set, complete with a nice pair of chunky white sandals and some kind of aqua-greeny-bluey rock necklace that actually clashed with the tasteful gold cross. And don't forget that old lady staple - the gigantic straw tote bag.
So she goes off. She pops back in an hour later excited at finding the new "perfect" shade. I start doing her return and now she decides to compare the old to the new to see how much darker the new shade is. Does anyone else see where this is going?
I'm doing the return and she asks me "Does this look darker?" I look and she's got the EXACT same Cover Girl compact. Same Cover Girl product number and same UPC number. I'm like "Ummm, this is the same."
"Are you sure? This one looks darker. I'm sure it is darker. I like this one anyway."
"Well, see this product number, it's the same. So is the UPC number. How about I just give you the cash back and you go pick out a new compact?"
She nods and grins and I sigh and mash a few buttons. Such is life.