Posts Tagged true
It's always bothered me how my mother and grandmother are treated in retail establishments because of their accents. As a result, I've always been the one to have to "take it up with the manager" or "write a letter" when injustice happens. Combine this with the fact that I'm a writer and sort of an ass, and it makes for interesting letters written on contact forms. So....enjoy.
Dear Dollar Tree, Inc.,
Let me tell you a story.
A story about $1 glowsticks.
Back in March, I was planning a non-profit event that required the purchase of large number of non-toxic glowsticks. As I stood in the middle of the isle, baffled by your sea of chemiluminescent of assorted plastic tubes, a kindly store clerk asked me if I needed assistance. What I needed help with was some simple mathematical forecasting. Probably not the best thing to ask from a retail clerk wearing a Spiderman band-aid to cover her eyebrow ring (thus drawing more attention to the eyebrow ring) but I give everyone a shot. And it really was a cool band-aid.
My equation was this:
My quarterly events with $0 cover charge...
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My mother gave me a call a few weeks ago, "I heard you vaz gonna be in town tomorrow. You vant to go to the Buffet?"
"Actually, I'm not passing through Piscataway, Anyu. I'm heading straight to New York City to see my friend's gallery show."
"Oh, noooo! New York is dangerous!"
"I've been to New York a zillion times. I'll be fine."
"Didn't Anita get mugged last time she was in New York?"
"First of all, that was TEN YEARS AGO. And you are incorrect. She was in Piscataway at the time. See? I'm safe in the City while all you scaredy cats in the suburbs get held up for your hoagies."
(read about the mugging here)
"Make sure you vear your glasses so you can see if somevon is mugging you."
"Anyu, I can see perfectly fine without glasses, I wear contacts."
"I hate dose tings! Your eyes need to breathe more. Promise to vear you glasses."
"Fine, I'll wear my glasses."
"Vell, just be careful. Are you brinking a man vit you for protection?"
I groaned.
The next day, my friends and I took the train in to New York and I could not stop thinking about delicious New York...
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Please read New York, New York Part I & Part II before reading this story.
The bus pulled into the church parking lot after midnight. My mother breathed a sigh of relief as I climbed down the narrow steps and into her spicy mustard-colored station wagon.
"How vas it?" she asked.
"I ate some amazing food, saw all the sites, and I bought you this!" I held up an overpriced "I Love New York" keychain.
"Oh, tank you, Stephie," she said, snapping the bawble onto her already large collection of keychains. "So, did anyvon try to bodder you?"
"Nope, I felt completely safe the entire time. It was awesome!"
"Vell, make sure you call Anita vhen you get home, she called like four times, I tink she had sometink to tell you, I dunno vhat."
I thought better of mentoning Anita's fear of Mole People to my mother.
I arrived back at the house and curled up on the bed with our old rotary phone that was the same exact color as my mother's station wagon. "Hey, Anita! Just calling to let you know that I am alive! What did I miss?"
"Oh. My. GOSH," she said....
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"I can't belief you vould drag me up dis early for a stupid trip," my mother said as we walked towards the main entrance of the Middlesex Mall.
Even the security guard looked sleepy as he unlocked the doors and ushered us into the empty corridor. I however, was wide-eyed and bushy-tailed. I was going to go to New York! I imagined the smell of roasted peanuts and the sound of taxi cabs and newspaper boys. I smiled at the thought of walking through a city, arm-in-arm with my first love. For one day in my young adult life, I could stand tall without the sound of Anyu and Nagymama criticizing my outfit behind me.
We assumed that we could pick up some pepper spray at the K-Mart, but we were out of luck. The K-Mart directed us to the 99 Cent store. 99 Cent store directed us to the Hardware store. The Hardware store looked promising - I walked up to the counter and saw the empty peg for pepper spray.
"I'm afraid we're out of pepper spray, dear," the attendant said. "There's been...
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"Anyu, Youth Group is having a trip tomorrow. I just need you to sign this permission slip and I will be out of your way ALL DAY tomorrow. Isn't that great?"
I carefully placed the paper down in front of her and crossed my fingers. She glanced down and her face twisted into a horrified expression. "NEW YORK CITY? NOOOO! Somevon will steal you!"
"I'm 16, Anyu. And I'll be with a zillion other people, including Pastor Jim, who's a 6'3" former biker gang member that allegedly has weapons training." My mother looked even more horrified. "Well, uh, before he converted and became a super nice non-violent Youth Pastor. So. I think we're okay."
"No freakin' way, Mr. Jose. New York is dangerous."
I threw my hands in the air, stomped out of the room, and started dialing. "This is SO unfair!" I whined as soon as my best friend, Anita, answered the phone. "Mom won't let me go to New York with Youth Group because she's afraid gypsies are going to kidnap me or something."
"Well..." she started, "New York is kind of dangerous. I was reading this book about Mole People that live...
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It's always bothered me how my mother and grandmother are treated in retail establishments because of their accents. As a result, I've always been the one to have to "take it up with the manager" or "write a letter" when injustice happens. Combine this with the fact that I'm a writer and sort of an ass, and it makes for interesting letters written on contact forms. So....enjoy. 
