A Pitcher-Perfect Holiday

I’m in an arts and crafts store in early December. I find an employee to ask for the location of an item. He sighs dejectedly that someone is speaking to him, but he gives me the aisle number and I’m off on my way. Hopefully, this will be a quick trip.

I reach the aisle in question and see the pitchers I’m looking for on the bottom shelf. There are three left; my wife told me to buy more than one, so we’re in good shape. The only problem is that there’s a group of three women standing directly in front of them. I decide to just wait patiently. If they buy all three, I can tell my wife they were out of stock legitimately and not have to stand in the holiday checkout lines.

After a minute or so, they notice me standing there and step to the other side of the aisle, grabbing one pitcher. Sigh. Okay, I’m standing in line, but the Mrs. will be happy. I immediately step forward and grab the remaining two pitchers and go to leave. But I hear a voice.

Woman: “Umm… we were planning on buying all three pitchers.”

Me: “Oh, I’m sorry, but you only grabbed one. My wife sent me here specifically for this.”

Woman: “Yes, that’s also why we came here. There are three of us. Do you expect us to all share this pitcher?”

Me: “I’m not sure? I’m just here to buy this and go home. You could ask if they have any more in the back.”

There’re never any in the back.

Woman: “Don’t you think it’s pretty rude to force your way past us to buy the last two of the item we were trying to buy?”

Is she serious?

Me: “Have a great day, ma’am.”

The “ma’am” was meant sincerely, but she seems to take it the wrong way. I make my way up front, and by some miracle, there are only two people ahead of me. I get in line, and right as I’m next in the queue, I hear the woman’s voice again.

Woman: “That man forced his way past us and took those pitchers. We were just about to buy them.”

I turn and see her speaking to an older-looking gentleman who looks like he’s hating every second of the interaction. He sighs and walks over to me.

Manager: “Is this true, sir?”

I look over his shoulder at the woman who is just smiling at me. I explain the whole situation to the man. He tells me to have a nice day and points me to the next open register. The lady loses it at this point, but luckily, she directs her rage at the manager. I check out and walk outside toward my car.

I wish this were the end, but as I’m approaching my car, I hear this woman huffing and puffing behind me.

Woman: “You’re ruining my family’s holidays! We make Christmas candles every year! I’m going to call my husband down here.”

I got in my car and started it up, and she stood directly behind my car while using her phone. I glanced over my shoulder to double-check and then put my car in drive and drove out the open parking spot in front of me and headed home.