I was at the big hardware store, the one with the huge garden part. My favorite part. I like looking at all the plants and dirt and stuff. I was there to get some special moss for my Venus flytrap terrarium. It’s hard to find the right kind of moss, you know, for carnivorous plants. They need just the right wetness and special kinds of dirt. It’s a real science, figuring out what makes them happy. I really like my plants, they are so interesting how they just wait for bugs to come close then snap. Its a really cool thing to see.
I was in the aisle with the really big bags of soil, which smelled like earth and kinda wet leaves. It’s a good smell. I was looking for the little bags of special moss, but they often get moved around. I don’t think the people who work here really understand how important the right moss is. I was trying to remember if it was near the orchids or the succulents last time. My mind just kind of bounces around sometimes, trying to connect things like a big spider web. It helps me find stuff when its not where it should be.
Thats when I noticed the lady. She was kinda tall, with blonde hair that was pulled back real tight, and she had on a nice, clean outfit. She was talking to one of the store workers, a younger guy with a name tag that said ‘Mike.’ Mike looked a little stressed, like he had just remembered he left the oven on or something. The lady had a little boy with her, maybe around four or five. He was already running around a bit, picking up little bags of plant food and putting them in his mom’s shopping cart, then taking them out again. His shoes were making a squeaky noise on the floor. It was a funny sound at first, like a mouse singing, but then it got kinda loud.
The lady was pointing at a big pallet of potting mix that was blocking half the aisle. It had a sign that said ‘DO NOT BLOCK FIRE LANE.’ It was one of those big yellow signs with black letters, really clear. She was saying to Mike, in a voice that was kinda loud but also smooth, like she was explaining something important, that she needed to get to the special rose bushes. The rose bushes were way at the back, past the blocked part. Mike was trying to explain that the pallet couldn’t be moved right then, because the forklift driver was on lunch and it was a fire hazard. He sounded a bit like a broken record, saying the same things over and over.
She just smiled, a really bright, kinda tight smile, and said, Mike, dear, I understand regulations. But surely, for a loyal customer like myself, you could just… make an exception. It’s just a little pallet. And my son needs his nap, and I need to get these roses planted today or they’ll wilt. She was saying it like it was the most logical thing in the world, like of course Mike would just move a pallet that weighed a thousand pounds and block a fire lane just for her. It made me feel confused, like her words were real smooth but they didn’t quite make sense with what I was seeing.
The little boy then found a stack of empty terracotta pots and started tapping them with a small plastic shovel he had pulled out of his mom’s purse. Clink-clink-clonk. It was a different kind of noise than his shoes, more hollow. Mike tried to talk over the noise, saying again about the rules and the forklift. The lady just looked at the boy, then at Mike, and sighed dramatically, like she was the most put-upon person in the world. Oh, look, Mike. My son is clearly getting agitated. He needs his mother’s attention, and I can’t give it to him until I get my roses. Do you want a crying child in your store? Her voice was still smooth, but there was an edge to it now, like a sharp knife hiding in a velvet glove.
I was still trying to find my moss, but it was getting hard to focus. The boy was now trying to climb onto the pallet. He was pretty small, so it wasn’t easy for him. His mom didn’t seem to notice. She was busy telling Mike about how she spends so much money at this store and how this was simply unacceptable customer service. She was using big words like ‘unprecedented’ and ‘disregard for client welfare.’ I didn’t quite know what all those words meant, but they sounded important, like she knew a secret about store rules that Mike didn’t. I could feel Mike getting more flustered, his face was turning a little red.
Then, a man walking by, an older guy with a fishing hat, chuckled a little bit. He said, from behind his hat, Looks like someone’s got their work cut out for them, huh Mike? He wasn’t really talking to Mike, more just making a little joke to himself. But the lady heard him. Her head snapped around so fast I thought her tight ponytail might fly off. She looked at the man with the fishing hat like he had just tried to steal her purse. Excuse me? Are you implying something? This is a private conversation between myself and this young man. You have no right to interfere. Her voice was still smooth but now it was like ice water. The fishing hat man mumbled something about just trying to be friendly and kinda shuffled away, looking embarrassed.
Mike, seeing his chance, quickly said, Ma’am, I really can’t move this without the forklift. It’s a safety issue. Maybe I could call a manager to explain? He was already pulling out his walkie-talkie. The lady just crossed her arms, a little smirk on her face. Fine, Mike. Call your manager. I’m sure they’ll understand. She gave the pallet a little kick with her foot, which I thought wasn’t very safe, since it was so big. Her son had finally managed to pull a big bag of fertilizer off a lower shelf of the pallet, and it burst open a little, spilling dark brown pellets onto the floor. He giggled and started trying to make a little pile of them with his plastic shovel. Mike saw it and his eyes got really wide.
The lady just looked at the mess, then back at Mike. Oh dear. Look what’s happened now. This is all because of your inflexibility, Mike. Now I’ll have to wait even longer, and there’s a mess. She still had that smooth voice, like it was all Mike’s fault. Mike just looked from the fertilizer, to the boy, to the walkie-talkie, his shoulders slumped a little. He pressed the button on his walkie-talkie and said, Can I get a manager to aisle 12, please? Customer service. There was a crackle, and a voice said, One moment, Mike, busy with a delivery. I guess the manager was coming, but not right away. That made me wonder if they’d ever actually get here. Maybe the delivery would take a really long time.
The lady just scoffed. Fine. This is ridiculous. She pulled her son away from the fertilizer with a little yank. Come on, sweetie. It’s clear they don’t value our business here. She didn’t even look at the mess of fertilizer on the floor. She just turned her cart around, the squeaky shoes of her son making more noise, and walked right out of the garden section. Mike just stood there, staring at the spilled fertilizer, looking really tired. He didn’t even get to move the pallet, or explain anything more, or wait for the manager. She just left, mad, and left a mess.
I found my moss eventually, behind some bags of bark. It was the right kind, all green and fluffy. But I kept thinking about Mike and the lady. It didn’t seem fair to Mike that she could just leave after causing all that trouble. She still seemed happy, walking away like nothing happened. I felt kinda bad for Mike, having to clean up that fertilizer. It made me feel like things don’t always get fixed, and some people just get what they want even when they’re not supposed to. It was a strange feeling to think about as I bought my moss. I hope my carnivorous plants will be happy with it. They deserve to be happy.
