45 Dollar Doughnuts

I love 24 hour grocery stores. The idea of being able to go to a store whenever my schedule (or lack thereof) permits thrills the materialist in me. Around 23:00 on Tuesday, I decided to go to WalMart.

I am not a WalMart fan. But I needed wrapping paper and Amanda needed more packing supplies. Movers are coming for her stuff at 7:00 this morning and she wants to be prepared. She is panicking. I don't blame her. Since the moving fellows are coming so early, she wanted to give them a little something for breakfast. Breakfast is my favorite meal of the day! I suggested Bagels, Doughnuts and Orange Juice. She suggested that I pick them up for her at WalMart. So off to Wally World (WalMart) I went.

I grabbed some doughnuts, Amanda's packing supplies and my stuff. The cashier was pleasant. I wished him a good night, signed the bill and exited. All was well with the world.

That is, all was well until I looked at the receipt. He charged me 45 dollars for a box of doughnuts. I realized this around 1:00. I'm not happy. I called the store. The phone rang 10 times. I hung up. I called again. No answer. I try a few more times. Nothing. Grabbing my keys, I bolt out the door into the night. I arrive at WalMart in record time. There is only one register open. An older lady in a bright yellow shirt is the cashier. She has tribal tattoos on her arms. I stare, wondering what they mean to her. Then I come back to reality. I explain what happened - I was charged for 12 boxes of doughnuts rather than 12 doughnuts. The cashier realizes that the lady who had been in front of me in line forgot 2 bags. I volunteer to run after the lady, which I do. I try to get her attention. The lady doesn't look at me at first. I probably wouldn't either - it's 1:30 in the morning and a strange girl is running after her in a dark parking lot. She probably thought I was going to attack or something. So the lady got her bags back. I return to the store.

The cashier is waiting for me. Of course. There is a line of people at the register. The lady not only credits my credit card but also doesn't charge me for the 12 doughnuts. I thank her. She tells me to go get another box of doughnuts. I must have looked at her like she had three eyes. "Oh, that's not necessary." She insists. So I pick up 12 more doughnuts. Sweet. I have just been blessed with doughnuts ... which further proves Amanda's theory of my extreme good and bad luck. We celebrated by eating two delightful little pastries. Until next time ...