A Day You Wouldn’t Believe. Hell, I don’t believe it and I was there. May 8, 2008

Mother’s Day is the only holiday that leads to a phone conversation with an elderly person trying to convince them that there REALLY are no letters in a Credit Card number.   That was last year.  I thought that couldn’t be topped.  I was wrong. 
There’s an unexplained phenomenon that during any major holiday included with the deluge of phone orders are the stupid questions phoned in.  In the middle of chaos a lady wants to know what flowers are edible and if we carry them.  Where was this question a month ago when I had 3 hours to devote to it?  Nah, let me have it on a day we’re so busy I can’t remember my name.  And, why would anyone want to eat flowers anyway?  I mean, I know it’s done…but honestly, is our economy *that bad* already?
The *very first* order I pick up this morning to enter into our system at the shop, included a Mother’s Day card that read, “Happy Mother’s Day, Mom!  Thanks for loving me even when my underwear smells bad.”  Oh God.  I need a raise. 
I was being my normal self today, although admittedly a bit wired.   One of the most Christan of my co-workers comes up to me and says, “I’d love to see you stoned.”  That sent me into hysterics.  She said, “You’re already fun sober, I can’t imagine you high.”  Umm….thanks I think. 
Next, a male customer with a big voice came in demanding to speak with the person in charge.  Luckily, my boss was on the phone.  My co-worker explained this to him and asked if she could help him.  He bellowed out proudly, “I just wanted to let you folks know that back in 1895 at this very intersection was a Floral Shop!”  We all look at him, “Yeah, it’s us.”  He comes back with, “Well, I don’t know if it was you guys, but there was one here.”  Once again, “Yeah, us.”  I think the crazies were out today.
Finally, going back to stupid phone calls; once again, during chaos I get an elderly woman calling demanding that I take a message for my boss to save her some beautiful white and red Geraniums.  I take her name once more as I scribble a note and I hear.  “Now don’t you forget!  If he sells all of those plants, I’m going to blame you, Kate!”  Great.  The elderly are revolting against me now.  Oh well, I guess I have it coming.