Mean people shouldn’t manage toy stores
Our family took a little road trip to the Tri-cities yesterday. Erika and I both had things to do. Since our kids don’t naturally enjoy spending hours in the car, we added an incentive; a trip to the Lego store in St. Jacobs. Without complaint they endured the seventy-five minute drive, marched around the college campus with dad, and waited patiently while mom stocked up on supplies at the fabric store. Finally, we made our way to Legoland.
We parked the car, opened the oversized mall doors, scurried up the stairs, then began the trek down the long corridor. As soon as the red square was in sight, our son started his sprint to the doors. Clomp, clomp, clomp went his little winter boots against the shiny cement floor.
Nothing could have prepared us for the tragedy of the moments that followed. The lights were on, there were employees behind the counter, but the doors were locked. The store was closed. It was inventory day.
After doing our best to calm our little ones down we struck a compromise. We would go back and simply look in the window at the displays throughout the store. I secretly thought that the adults inside might even take pity on us and let us in for a brief look around. Perhaps, since they work in a place of eternal happiness–the lego store, they might even bend and let us spend some money there.
As we peered innocently through the glass a woman saw us gawking at the star wars keychains and quickly darted for the door. She unlocked it, swung it wide open and stated, in her meanest voice, that the store was closed for the whole day. In other words, go away.
Who would have thought that someone who is surrounded by toys all day could be so mean.
