Imagine that! And to be told about it so forthrightly too!

Not that I think they have to worry. Since Meadows Farm Nursery in Westminster, Carroll County, Maryland provided the single Rudest, Meanest, Nastiest experience I have ever had in a retail establishment in my ENTIRE LIFE...I think they'll probably not have to deal with the inconvenience of having another customer by the end of about 6 months or so.

By the way, the representative, who spoke as if she were the owner there, told me it was "Just fine" with her if I told all of my friends about my experience there, that it was "absolutely no problem". So, since I have her permission, I'm going to broadcast from here to Canada that this garden center is not only agist, but doesn't need my business or the business of any of my friends....

Note bene: if you are already a regular reader of this blog or know me personally you know that there are very few things that can make me lose my temper enough to let somebody have it with both barrels in public....In fact, a person can be almost as rude as they want to me if I'm alone and I will just figure that the rude person is either a) having a bad day or b) just a jerk, which is their problem, not mine. However, I don't take kindly to people being obnoxious to senior citizens....and when that senior citizen is also my mother I am going to land on The Jerk with both feet. I tell you out of my own heart that Jung was right when he said "The brighter the light the deeper the shadow." I am really NOT someone you want to get pissed off at you, for all that I may look, walk and talk like a Quaker maid of yore.

The Jerk at the garden center found herself confronted by the darkest, angriest part of my shadow side and it was WAY ugly. It was Butt Ugly. Jabba The Hut Ugly. And also way LOUD. I'm sure every word I said to this woman was audible at the humane society which is about 2 miles up the street.

My mother and I came into this place looking for herbs and flowers. My father had very kindly come over in the morning and helped me dig much of the remaining area of my garden plot, and I was ready to plant. Also, I just got paid, so I was ready to drop a fairly significant sum of money.

There were almost no customers in this place ( I can't imagine why!!) and, when we came in, there was not an employee in sight. We looked for baskets, box tops, or any other means to hold the plants we were picking up, but found none. I suggested that we help ourselves to a wagon: the wagons where obviously there for that purpose, but Mom though there might be something smaller she could use for her own purchases, which would be smaller so they didn't get mixed in with mine. So she walked back out toward the cash register whereupon The Jerk appeared.

"Hep you?" The Jerk inquired of my mother briskly. At first The Jerk didn't see me.

"Yes, I'm just looking for someplace to put these or something to put them in." Mom said, mildly but clearly. My mother is a well spoken woman. She doesn't mumble, she articulates plainly to anybody who is paying attention.

"You can put them on the floor." The Jerk said rudely.

"On the...? What?" Mom asked, looking back at me for help. I could tell what she was thinking. She was thinking, Jeeze, I'm adjusting to this heart medication. I wonder if now I'm losing my hearing?

"On the FLOOR" said The Jerk in that condescending tone of voice people use to talk to the elderly who are not entirely with it, "It's important to not mess up the check writing surface."

And, for a minute, I thought that my mother who is almost 69 years old, has arthitis in her feet ( yeah- no kidding -ouch!) and is fighting with dizziness /vertigo because of the heart medication / heart condition was going to bend over and DO it. Friends and neighbors, let me tell you, my blood preasure shot up so fast it felt like a rocket blew up in my chest.

Still, I didn't freak. Yet. I have a tone of voice I think of as a Warning Tone. When I use it in a situation like this, the person who is being rude to my senior companion - usually my client - realizes that the senior that they thought they were just going to amuse themself by treating like compost acutally has someone on their side who was not raised in the era of "Don't Make a Scene"....that that someone someone on their side was in fact raised in the era of "I'll Kick Your Ass if Need Be."

"We weren't going to write a check right now..." I began in the Warning Tone.

We were, in fact no where near ready to check out....but this was lost on Miss I'm-Too-Busy-Running-My-Business-To-Trouble-Myself-With-Customers.
"Well, we have to keep it clean for other people who may want to." She said, motioning my mother to bring her posies forward and make it snappy as she got out half bags to put them in. She spoke to me as if I were, in fact, retarded.

"Oh no." I said loudly. "Unh-unh. This isn't gonna happen."

I walked forward and slammed my might have been my purchases down on the check writing area. "Listen, Lady, there are pleanty of places we can go to buy plants, and now I'm gonna go to one of them. We didn't ask you where we could check out. If you'd bothered to either listen or pay attention you'd know we were asking you for something to carry this stuff around in."

"I heard her say, 'put these things down' " The Jerk answered, as if my mother were not even there.

"Then you weren't listening. You weren't paying attention. I was going to buy everything for my garden here, but forget it. And forget me ever coming back. We don't need to get treated like this: nobody does. I guess you don't need my business."

My mother, who really does have the patience of Job, was actually handing over money for her purchases at this time. And that's her choice. Maybe I should have just put my stuff away and let that speak for itself....but the rocket was already launched. It was one of those things where I was so angry if somebody had a gun to my head I couldn't have kept from speaking out. That kind of uncontrollable anger is really rare for me, and I hate the way it makes me feel, because I actually get nauseated.

"That's fine if you go someplace else. That's absolutely no problem." answered The Jerk.

"Great. I hope you'll be equally happy to know I'll tell everybody I know how horribly I was treated here and how unspeakably rude you are. I suppose you don't see that as a problem either?"

"Just fine! Absolutely no problem!" she answered.

So, hey - I'm just getting the word out! If you're even thinking of going to Meadow Farm Nursery DON'T bother, unless the whole focus of your trip is to keep their counter clean. Go to Bowman's in the town of Westminster. Bowman's is less than 3 miles from there, the staff is friendly, knowlegeable...and heck, some of them are even over 65. They've also got box tops so you can carry your plants around while you look....but it's no problem to leave them on the counter if it gets to heavy for you. See, Bowman's has this idea that might revolutionize customer service in this country: they think they're there to actually help their customers instead of making their customers serve them. It's a concept, huh?

I bet it takes off!

I hope I don't take off like that again for a few months though. I've still got an adreniline rush. Fortunately, I've got pleanty to really poor, clumpy soil out in the yard for me to take out my angst on.