“Are you going to tell everyone on Facebook about that mishegas at the pet store?” mom asks.
“There isn’t much to say.”
Mom begs to differ.
After pointing out they had overcharged her, the cashier tries to refund her money.
After a few attempts at canceling the transaction, the cashier asks a coworker for help.
Minutes go by.
Mom makes friends with a woman who owns a chihuahua.
The original cashier jokes that it’s all my fault. I tell her that I’ve taken down “bigger systems than this one.” Evidently, we don’t share a sense of humor.
Cashier number two gives up, returns to his register.
I clean out my inbox.
Mom’s friend leaves. Mom chats up the next person in line.
I check the headlines on my phone.
Mom’s second friend leaves. She charms her way down the line.
The original cashier repeats her steps. No luck.
The situation grows desperate; I investigate a cat that is up for adoption.
The manager arrives.
Mom assures the manager that the cashier has been trying her best, but that sometimes “crap happens with these computers.”
Ultimately, the manager agrees. After five fruitless minutes he opens the register and hands mom cash.
“You’re going to tell everyone about the mishegas,” mom says on the way home. “I know you, that’s what you do. Just make it clear this wasn’t my fault.”
“I don’t know mom, not everyone on Facebook knows Yiddish. They might not understand what mishegas means.”
“They know you, they know craziness.”