The Beer Store’s Not My Thing
Posted: Sunday, May 02, 2010
by Brianna Popsickle
We were picking up sticks and throwing them into our old, rusty fire pit.
"Maybe I'll get you a new outdoor fireplace for Fathers' Day," I said cheerfully to my husband.
"No, I like this one just fine," he answered.
Damn, I really wanted a new one. What's the point of having beautiful lawn furniture, just to sit and stare at a rusted out fire pit? The next day I was browsing at the garden centre and saw the perfect one, on sale! The only problem was it came in a box. Knowing my husband wasn't much into assembly,' I asked the clerk if she thought it would be hard to put together.
Sold!
I kept it hidden until the following Saturday, then led him to the garage saying, "I have a surprise for you!"
He was surprised! I gave him a kiss and said, "Happy Early Father's Day," followed with, "The woman at the store said it will be easy to assemble."
I left him to it and went inside. When I came out an hour later, parts were strewn everywhere.
"How's it going?" I asked cautiously.
He looked up and rolled his eyes. "Twenty-five screws so far."
"Oh," I sighed. "That sucks."
"You could do me a favour," he said. "Go to the beer store, the empties are already in the car."
I stared back at him. "I don't do the beer store. You know that."
He motioned to the mess of parts in front of him and glared at me.
"Always a first time," I said reluctantly.
What's the big deal, you ask? Well, my mother had a thing about beer stores and needless to say I have the same thing'. When I was little, probably once a month, she and I would wait in the car while my dad would buy a case of beer. We'd see women balancing one, sometimes two cases on their hips, cigarette dangling from their mouths. My mother thought it looked tough' for women to shop for beer. She said it didn't seem right, it would be like sending a man to shop for feminine products, something she would never have expected of my dad. Her words stuck with me and here I was thirty years later, never been in a beer store.
It looked like the cycle was about to be broken.
I pulled up to the store and parked in the first row. As I pulled the case from the backseat I noticed eight loose bottles on top. (Our reward for letting our of-age teenagers have pre-drinks at our house, we get their empties.)
I walked to the entrance and as I turned around to click my automatic door locker, I noticed a wheelchair parking symbol under the front of my car, that I hadn't seen when I pulled in.
Gaaad. I was only going to be a few minutes, but people wrongfully taking handicapped spots was a pet peeve of mine, so back I went to move the car.
I balanced the empties on my hip. As I pulled open the door it caught on the corner of the case, causing it to slide down my leg. I reached to grab it but my purse dropped from my shoulder and fell onto the case, which then toppled to the ground. The loose bottles smashed and rolled everywhere as they hit the pavement.
Crap!
As I bent to gather up the glass, I glanced in the store window directly in front of me. People were staring. And then I remembered I was still parked in the handicapped spot! I left the mess, hopped in my car and moved over two spaces. In the meantime, a teenage boy with a broom and a bad attitude came out and started cleaning up. I explained I was going to do that, but first had to move from the handicapped spot, but he wasn't interested. I picked up what was left of the empties and went inside.
So this is what the inside of a beer store looked like.
I followed the guy ahead of me, and put my empties on the conveyer belt. There were two male clerks on either side of the store at the registers, and a female clerk standing in between the two. (I wasn't sure what her job was.)
"Do you want to replace those," she asked gruffly.
"Pardon?" I mumbled, not sure if she was speaking to me.
"Do you want more beer?" she snapped.
"Yes. Half and half," I answered, trying to remember what my husband had told me.
She gave me a puzzled look.
"Half light for me and half regular for my husband," I stuttered. "Any on sale?"
"No," she answered sternly.
"Okay, a case of light and a case of regular then," I smiled.
"What kind?" she snapped.
What kind? My mind drew a blank. I was becoming flustered as I usually did around bull bitchin' women. I looked at the dozens of logos on the wall, none of which I could read clearly. Then I remembered an e-mail listing Bud Light as having the fewest calories.
Relieved I said, "Bud Light," like I knew what I was talking about.
"Yeah, and what kind of regular?" she asked, obviously frustrated.
My husband was always trying different beers and for the life of me I couldn't think of a brand. Besides, she was scaring me. She began rhyming off a long list of brands. Finally the guy behind me said, "Just get him a case of Blue."
"Okay, Blue it is," I said, wanting to get out of there.
The guy at the register told me to swipe my card and I did. He muttered something then looked frazzled. The woman came over. "What's the problem, what did you do?" she growled.
"I don't know, the screen went blank, he replied, embarrassed. She shoved him out of the way, hit a few buttons and said, "There."
He apologized and asked me to swipe again.
"That's okay," I said, smiling at him. Then, looking towards her, in my best bull bitchin' voice said, "I'm sure you're just LEARNING and you're doing just FINE."
I paid and moved to the far side of the store where everyone was grabbing beer. Two cases shot out and I asked quietly, "Are these mine?" The female clerk let out a loud sigh.
Suddenly, I realized what her job was! She was there to make the clerk feel small and to intimidate customers.
She was really starting to annoy me. "Hello," I said sarcastically. "First time in a beer store."
"Carry out!" she yelled.
Out walked Broom Boy with the bad attitude . . .
Hours later I was sitting by the fire, sipping a cold beer with my husband.
"So, do you like your Father's Day gift?" I asked him.
"Actually, I do. I guess I'll take the old one to the dump next Saturday, unless you want to take it," he added. "You conquered the beer store today, maybe next you'd like to tackle the dump, and after that, the car wash . . ."
He was mocking me.
"Sounds fine to me," I lied. "And Wednesday night I'll shoot pool with the boys and Thursday I'll go golfing with them. I haven't done either of those things yet."
"Point taken," he smiled. "Thanks for getting the beer, Brianna. I know it's not your thing."
I know what you're thinking. Feminists would have a hay-day with me. So just for the record let me say, I know women can do anything men can do. My question is; why would we want to?
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Top-level comments on this article: (6 total)Why would we want to is perfect. I agree with you. Thanks for sharing with your great sense of humor.You're welcome Linda! Thanks for reading!
hi brianna,very cool ending. and a good storyline.i really enjoyed it. i'm glad everything worked out in the end.my best,sueThanks Sue. Glad you enjoyed it.
I liked that- goes to show, woman can do anything a man can do, if she's physically strong enough, but there are things we just flat don't want to do- and why should we if we've got them to do it. But it's good to know, and for them to know, that we can do these things in a pinch. I must say, those people at the Beer Store don't know how to run a business very well, if that's the way they treat their customers. What they need is a little more competition in the area.- Good article Brianna- I liked the way you wrote it.-. Always- EllaIt's funny when you say 'if we're physically strong enough', I lugged toddlers around in one arm and groceries in another for years, and now lift weights at the gym, but for some reason wouldn't consider lifting a twenty-five pound case of beer. My husband knows I can and will do just about anything in a pinch though. :) Thanks Ella for reading and commenting.
Why, indeed. There's no need for the female of the species to take on the grunting hunter-gatherer male mentality. It could only be a step down!Funny stuff, Brianna.Well put Ken! Nice to hear from you. Hope all is going well.
brianna,every time you watch the flames a'dancing in the moonlight you will have a tinge of satisfaction-the flame is actually the hair of that attendant on fire!bingVery funny Bing, now I would never have thought of that. :) Thanks for reading and for joining my fan club. I appreciate it.
Hi Brianna.There are some things best left to men! Glad you survived the beer store.Is that like a liquor store here in the US, or does it sell only beer? I've just got to know things. Can't help it.Love your story ... as I usually do.Hugs,DianneThe beer store sells beer only, (I think). We can get wine and vodka and stuff at the liquor store which I don't mind going to for some reason. Go figure. Thanks Dianne!
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