diner at the boulangerie
His stone-washed jeans, ankle cowboy boots, pre-leather tan and wavy hair should have given it away.
He: “No, I distinctly remember saying one of each”
He gets up from the common table to go to the counter while his blond companion pokes at her Tartiflette. He returned and sat back down
He: Apparently I have to wait for the manager for some reason.
She: Why?
At this point, I make my strategic blunder … I say something
Me: He’s probably not authorized to run a void himself.
She: What?
Me: The void, to refund the overcharge, he probably needs to get approval.
She’s still looking at me with a look of utter confusion.
Me: When you work service jobs they won’t let you void out completed transaction without approval because someone could start scamming the till.
The look remains on her face as it dawns on me … this woman has likely never worked a day in her life.
The worst part about the influx of wealthy Southern Californians into Portland is that they’re the worst of the lot. These are the people who bought into the lifestyle, but even then other Southern Californians couldn’t stand them. Like the Puritans and England.
Originally Posted April 27, 2007