Christmas Chaos

With a sigh of relief, I fully completed all my Christmas shopping last night. I even wrapped some presents. I was feeling a slight weight lifted from my shoulders as I started thinking about lounging in my parents hot tub and drinking copious amounts of red wine.

But then, my mom suddenly decides that she'd like me to "pick up a few things in the city" before I come home. Fabulous. Out to brave the masses once again. And it's not just regular items she wants. She decides today, five days before Christmas, that she'd like a marine barometer. Whaaaaat?

Since my parents bought their boat in the summer, they've decided to join marine life in full force, buying every boating accessory they can find. Although they claim they aren't quite snotty enough yet to join the yacht club.

So my hunt for a marine barometer begins with a quick search for "marine" and "boating" in the Yellow Pages. I called a couple stores but they didn't have one. On my third attempt I reached a store in Cambridge that claimed he could have one for me by the end of the week if I talked to his receptionist. They were "moving" he said and it was noisy. So my conversation with the oh so intelligent receptionist goes like this:

Me: "Hi. I was told to give you my contact information so you could order me a marine barometer."

Receptionist: "What's a marine barometer?"

Me: "Uh... I'm not sure actually. My mom wants one for their boat."

Receptionist: "Oh, is it like a regualar barometer?"

Me: "I really don't know." (Shouldn't YOU know? You're the marine store!)

She takes my contact info, spelling my name MEranda. I don't bother correcting her. She has no idea how much this item costs nor when it might be in. The conversation continues as such:

Me: "Okay, so where is your store located?"

Receptionist: "I'm not sure exactly. In Cambridge I think."

Me: "Uh... can you give me directions?"

Receptionist: "I'll have someone call you back." (Seriously, how does this woman not know where she works??)

Me: "Alright. So I want to come pick it up on Saturday morning. Are you open on Saturdays?"

Receptionist: "Uh... I'm actually not sure."

Me: "Right." (At this point, I'm seriously contemplating hanging up but the receptionist beats me to the punch)

Receptionist: "Thanks a lot for calling. Buh-bye!"

Seriously, wtf. Some help she was.

I wouldn't get your hopes up for a barometer under the tree this year.