A 90 out of 100 type of Saturday

 

This past Saturday (September 20th) was very topsy turvy one for me. 

I was practically floating on Cloud 9 when my friend Vic from OFCP (Ontario Federation for Cerebral Palsy) bought a ton of merchandise from me! He said he was buying it to give out as prizes at the next general meeting, and that he hoped that this would give me more recognition and fame. Fantastic, right?!  Hell, yeah!

After working at the St. Lawrence Market, I had fun picking out toys for my three cats. Sherlock, Watson and Frida Zappa are probably the most spoiled cats in the whole world! I’ve become friends with the sales people there, so it’s no problem for me to buy things on my own. 

And then I went to Rexall, which is my regular Saturday routine. Unfortunately, my experience there was unsettling, to say the least. (Pardon me while I take a swing of Boost mixed with Cherry Brandy before I continue.) I had two bad experiences while I was there, none of which were of any fault of the drug store.

I browsed around for a bit, which is my wont, mentally choosing the items I wanted to buy when my PSW met me there for their shift. The sales people know me too see and occasionally move things out of my way if the aisles are a bit crowded. They don’t usually ask me if I need help, and that’s fine with me. Occasionally, some customers will ask me and I always point to my communication board and say, “no thank you”. That’s usually no problem. They understand and move on.

However, after I explained to one customer that I was fine, and he understood, a woman came up to me and began acting very irrational and kept saying in a very loud voice, “Hasn’t anybody helped you yet? I’ll go find a sales person to help you right away!” Because I felt overwhelmed by this person and because I could see by the Rexall computer clock that my PSW was very late, I decided to go outside and just chill out there. Unfortunately, almost immediately this man in an orange workers vest started following me. (Pardon me again while I have another swig of Boost Cherry Brandy.) He began to sing to me and call me his angel. (Ew!) I tried my best to escape him, but when he actually caressed my cheek, I darted back inside Rexall! 

Once I was inside, one of the security guards asked me if that man outside had been harassing me and I pointed to “Yes” on my board. I could barely hear his response because the crazy woman who had previously been looking for help for me began yelling at the security guard, “Are you going to let her back in? She was shoplifting! Seriously are you going to let her back in?” 

I see myself as a very strong ass person, but I began to cry as I browsed again around the store. I felt humiliated and angry! I just turned 67 in August and had experienced similar situations many times before. When would it ever stop?! What’s crazy is that people either treat me as if I was invisible most times, especially if I actually do need help, or they go overboard and worry that I’m by myself. Thank god for friends and family who see me as just a regular person! 

My PSW came soon afterwards and I told them what happened. They then helped me gather all of the things I wanted to buy. I bought everything and left the store. 

We went to The Spaghetti Factory for dinner, and they put us in a cool section called The Crystal Room. Dinner was delicious and the waiter was charming and friendly. I was very happy… Well, until I got food stuck in my throat. However, it only lasted maybe 5 minutes. 

All in all, I’d give Saturday 90 out of 100!