It Wasn't Traumatic

So if it wasn't traumatic, why do I still have this unreasonable urge to cry about it?

This afternoon I headed to town to do errands, including hitting up Goodwill and Salvation Army for a dresser and a bookshelf for Paul's new apartment. I was thrilled to find an $8 bookshelf at Salvation Army. The bottom couple of inches sustained some water damage in the past. But for eight bucks, it will hold his books.

I was also thrilled to find a very nice 5-drawer chest for $50. A bit high for resale, but the drawers pull nicely, the finish is excellent, and it's a nice size. Mostly wood, not that cheap material of glued-together sawdust. Then ... ah, ... then was when the trouble began.

I found another dresser. Four drawers. Nearly as big in drawer space, but narrower -- all the better for carrying into and out of apartment buildings and around corners, my dear. This one was all wood. And only $20. The other $20-30 dressers in the store were not worth bringing home. This one was surely a great deal! So I bought it. Paid. Loaded it into the van. Needing to hunt for shorts and a blender, I headed back into the store.

A few minutes later, I heard yelling by the cash register. As the customer ranted on and on, pretty soon I heard the words "dresser" and "took it" and "removed my sold tag and claimed it for herself." I approached the clerk and the woman making the scene and asked if they were discussing the $20 dresser that had been sitting near the back door. Uh. Yeah. That's it. So she yelled at me for taking her dresser while she was transporting a different load of furniture home.

Yikes. I told her there was no sold sign on the dresser I bought. I asked some more questions to verify whether we were talking about the same dresser. We were. The clerks and manager clearly were expecting a big argument over who got item. Instead I apologized and told them I'd bring my van around back and give her the dresser back.

Shoot. I knew that dresser was too good to be true.

I was stunned when the clerk told me that she couldn't refund my money but that I could find $20 worth of other merchandise in the store. Granted, I wanted the other dresser, so it worked out. But if there hadn't been another dresser I wanted? Then what? I understand that they don't give refunds. But c'mon -- when they sell the same piece of furniture to two different people??? At least the manager offered to split the cost different; she said I could have the more expensive dresser for $35 instead of $50; that helped a bit to make up for the clumsier size of the one I ended up buying.

I keep telling myself that I got a nice dresser. That it will hold Paul's socks and jammies. That it does fit --with some finagling-- into the van for transport purposes. I keep reminding myself that I bought this dresser for $15 less than I had originally intended to pay for it. This is good. Right???

How come I still feel so unsettled about the whole icky mess?

I wonder if I would feel differently now if the woman had apologized for accusing me. Or if she had apologized for my not being able to have the dresser. Or if she had thanked me for not giving her any guff about letting her take it.