Saturday I had to go to the mall to get my iPad looked at at the Genius Bar.
While on my way to the Genius Bar, I was waylaid at Teavana to sample some of their Delicious Tea. It was so delicious that I had the young lady write down the name of it so that I could come back and get it after my appointment; you never want to miss your appointment at the Genius Bar, because the good Lord only knows when you’ll get another one.
I guess they get that a lot at Teavana, because she looked at me a little disappointedly and sent me on my way.
So I went to my appointment and then piddled around at Anthropologie and bought a birthday present, and then went to Macy’s and looked at shoes for a minute. I was just about to walk out of the mall when I remembered I wanted some of that Delicious Tea (youthberry and orange something), so I turned around and went back, and the young lady was ecstatic.
She asked me if I would just be getting the tea, or if I also wanted a “method to make it.” The “method to make it” appeared to be a Pyrex teapot, so I said no, I have a teapot, and she took me on up to the counter to the young man and told him I’d be the sucker buying the featured tea.
He gave me the schpiel about the canister ($7 each) and took two of them and started scooping the two types I’d be needing and telling me how to make it, and about the sweetener, which was “pure cane rock sugar,” which he started to put in another canister ($5), until I told him to put it in a bag. He tried to sell me some green tea, but I told him no, I hate green tea, and I don’t want any, but thanks.
He handed the whole thing off to the cash register woman, a very official looking woman with Serious Black Glasses and a Severe Black Dress, who rang it up and asked me, with a straight face, for $162.
Because I am past 40 and my filters are shot, I said, “Can I roll it up and smoke it?”
She did not smile. She merely repeated, “$162, please.”
I told her I wasn’t paying $162 for tea. She said she could shake some out. I told her to put it in bags and shake A LOT of it out. She did this and came back and said, “$99.”
I did some quick figuring in my head and said, “So that’s what? $15 a cup?”
She said, “Well, actually, it’s $14.73 a cup.”
I have no idea why I stood there and listened to her arguments for why it would be reasonable to pay $14.73 per cup for tea, or why I pointed out to her that I don’t pay $14.73 for a drink in a bar (not that I buy my own drinks in bars) with liquor in it, or why I told her that for $14.73, a guaranteed permanently sober Robert Downey, Jr. would have to serve me that tea in the nude daily and tell me I’m pretty, besides.
Finally I realized what I was doing and stopped talking and told her thank you, that she had been very nice and all, but despite the fact that I can afford $15 a cup for tea, I’m not going to, and I had to leave. And I left.
When I got to my car and was about to pull out of my spot, I thought, “Where is my Anthropologie bag?”
I had left it in the damn Teavana, which of course I can never go in again.
I ran another errand or two and called them and told them I’d been in there just browsing earlier and had set it down, and asked had anyone found it. Once they located it, I gave them my name and told them I’d come get it the next day. It was all going fine until the guy turned out to be the one who’d packed up my $162 worth of tea and he’d be there again the next day. Argh.
I called my friend Ellie and asked her if she could go with me to the mall on Sunday and go in somewhere and get something I’d left, to which she responded, “Why? Did you make an ass of yourself in there and now you can’t go back?”