Pain at the Pump

And the price of the gas has gone down... I was cringing and praying that the pump would stop before it made me broke. Well - almost broke. I did have about one hundred thirty five dollars with me. But it still hurt. I took this picture, then ran into the cashier. He was laughing as I entered: "I've never seen anyone do that before. Not even a tourist!"
"What? Do what?"
"Take a picture of their painful price. That was pretty interesting... why'd you do it?"
"Um... to record how much the price has gone down and how much I'm still paying for gas."
"You're an oddball original, aren't you?"
Wow. I didn't know I was noteworthy whilst trying to pay for gas. Why do I always seem to stand out when I don't mean to?

I should have known better than to go in the store after that. But I can be pretty dense. Oh yeah, and I did want some new knee-socks. After picking out four pairs of pretty, albeit fairly plain, socks I had to make a decision about which not to get. (There was a two and get one pair free, so I had to drop at least one pair.) While standing there, a woman in her thirties came near me. To my amazement, she critized me for my choice, saying that I should get some typical teen socks and what was I thinking trying to dress maturely. Then she pointed at a rack of girls' socks which were decorated with skulls, red lips, frogs and bubblegum. Calmly, I laughed, told her that I'm not an idiot, and went on my way.

It didn't stop there. As I was checking out, I had to pay for the last dollar with quarters. Four quarters = one dollar, right? Well, after she counted them five times, I assured her that it was indeed one dollar. She merely nodded her head and began to count them again. The man behind me, aggravated at how long the purchase of three pairs of socks was taking, told her that everyone in line by now could tell that it was a dollar. Annoyed, she finally began bagging the socks. Politely, I asked her to use my canvas bag which I supplied for that purpose rather than a plastic bag.
"What's wrong with just using the stupid plastic bag? We have them here to be USED."
Taken aback, I replied: "Well, I like to use canvas, it's more economical."
Grumpily, she shoved the socks in the bag and handed me the reciept. I don't know what seized me, but I grinned and turned to the man behind me.
"Yep, and I heard earlier this summer that the cashiers here are supposed to give five cents discount every time you use a canvas bag. That helps me remember to grab them before I leave home."
In the corner of my eye, I saw her punch in the numbers and take five cents off my charge. (I found the nickel in the bag when I got back to Sherwood.) The man smiled warmly at me. "REALLY? I wish I'd known that before." He turned to his daughter and pointed to a rack of canvas bags just by the register. "Go grab ten or so for us. It's time to start saving money at this place."
As I walked off, the cashier was giving me a deathly glare and the man seemed to think that Christmas had come early and was greeting everyone. Oh, and I heard him tell the woman behind him about the bag deal. It looked like that cashier will have the joy of dicounting a lot of people today.
So pain at the prices might actually have some good results. Just an idea: I've been thinking of making more canvas bags myself. What do you think?