Today, I had three interesting experiences at the Carroll Walmart that I thought I might share.
We were in Carroll today to celebrate Poppa's Palladium birthday and I decided to avail myself of the opportunity to get some prints made of the girls' pictures and get the oil changed in the van (The Carroll Walmart puts the "Express" back in Tire and Lube Express.) Though the speed of the oil change experience might vary, some things about Walmart are universal. Here is how it all turned out.
Round One:
I left for Walmart about 10 minutes after 4 and arrived at Walmart 8 minutes later only to find that I had left my purse behind. I drove back, got my purse, and returned. It was just past 4:30 when I arrived the 2nd time. I walked up to the door and saw a sign that stated that they closed at 5 pm on Fridays and was relieved to have made it in time. When I inquired at the desk about an oil change, they told me they had to clean the shop and so they couldn't take my car. I wish they took that same degree of care when cleaning the bathrooms...
Round Two:
Though I was still feeling defeated from Round One, I knew there were pictures of my precious girls waiting for me at the 1-hour photo center so I decided to head over there and give Walmart another shot. I made my way to the photo desk only to find it completely unmanned. This was a bit unnerving to me because I had never seen it empty before. What if someone just walked behind the counter and pocketed someone else's personalized photo paper weight? Apparently, they don't share my concern. I stood there for a long while, checked my email, waited some more, imagined the Tire & Lube crew scrubbing and sweeping - maybe they had to call in the photo center guy for backup... Still, nothing. So, I looked up the Carroll Walmart phone number on my Blackberry and called them. Yes, I called Walmart from inside Walmart. If that sounds odd to you, imagine being the lady answering the phone who kept wanting to transfer me to the photo department despite my frantic insistence that nobody would be there to receive my call. Once she understood my predicament, she paged a young man who promptly arrived and handed over my photos. Please note the simplicity of the actual photo transfer process - it will add to the drama of Round Three.
As if to kick me while I was down, the Tire and Lube Express literally barricaded me out of their area in the meantime (they locked the doors shortly after 5 - had there been someone at the photo center when I arrived I could have escaped in time, but I digress...) and I had to go out the front exit and walk all the way around the store to get to my van, which appeared to me to be wearing an expression of defeat mirroring my own.
Round Three
Once I reviewed the pictures, I realized that I had not ordered correctly and needed to reorder three more prints. So, I hopped on walmart.com and made a new 1-hr order. I had noted earlier that the photo center closed at 9 pm so I knew I had to be there by 8:30 in case they needed to clean. I arrived just in time and the guy was ready for me this time. However, he couldn't find my order anywhere. After what I thought was a rather thorough search, he went to the computer to look up the order. He told me that it had been denied. I thought to myself, "I didn't apply for a credit card, I just want my pictures. How could they be denied?"
I got my answer quickly. He told me that they looked professional and they can't print those without signed permission from the photographer. Little did they know that the "photographer", who was sitting out in our minivan with two little girls who greatly dislike being trapped in their car seats for any period of time, would have probably signed away his inheritance if it meant he could get out of there any sooner.
I explained that my husband had taken the pictures and the worker said he would have to call a manager, which he did promptly. The manager did not respond in kind and so he called again. Eventually the manager arrived to reconnoiter the situation. She began reviewing the pictures that were printing and asked me where they came from. I answered honestly when I replied, "my basement". She decided to rephrase her question and asked me if I had e-mailed them to the store. I told her that I had ordered them from the website. She next asked me where they were now. I wanted to be snide and tell her they were in her hand, but I decided that would be less than cordial. So, I gave another honest answer which was met with more disbelief. I began to understand why people confess to crimes they didn't commit. I wasn't sure whether to lawyer up or laugh hysterically.
My unsatisfactory answer had been that the images were currently being housed on my husband's compact flash. Apparently, the next logical question (which was more of a statement, which was more of an accusation) was this: "So, you scanned them." I am glad I was able to keep my composure to respond in the negative because I had decided at this point that I was either leaving in a police car or with a really good laugh. "So, how did you get them on the compact flash." The teacher in me decided to give a nice little lesson in photography. "My husband put the compact flash in his camera. Then he took the pictures and they were stored on the compact flash. I took the compact flash out and uploaded the pictures to the website. I then placed my order and that brings us to this point."
I think she grunted, though I can't be sure, and then returned to examining the photos. The level of scrutiny I was experiencing was right on par with the intensity of cleaning that I imagined the Tire & Lube Express must have experienced during my earlier visit. After a dramatic pause she looked at me and said, "They look pretty professional." She was giving me one last change to come clean. I would not be baited into a false confession. Apparently, she was not aware of how much stamina the mother of a 1 and 2 year old can maintain in a battle of the wills. I replied that my husband would be happy to hear that and I would pass along the compliment. I had attempted to remain pleasant and upbeat the whole time and I must have "killed her with kindness" because she looked at the photo center employee (and never again at me) and told him, "Give 'em to her." She walked away looking as defeated as I had a few hours earlier. I had my first victory.
It was short-lived.
I had been so engrossed in my jury-less trial, that I hadn't noticed the volume of photos being generated by the machine. After the manager was well out of earshot, I told the young man that I hated to tell him this, but that I thought he had the wrong order. I reminded him that I was there to pick up three prints and that he must be reprinting my first order. He returned to his computer, clicked around for a bit and soon my three prints came flying out of the machine. He handed them to me without a word and I thanked him sincerely. One of the photos in question appears at the top of this post, in case you would like to judge for yourself.
Author's Note: Since I cannot convey tone of voice or facial expressions, I want to clarify that I am not writing this to complain about Walmart - I totally understand their policy about professional pictures. I just want others to be able to get a laugh or a smile out of this the way I did. I find that to be one of the greatest joys of a Biblical worldview. In what many can only see to be mistakes and mishaps, I see a day that was ordained for me before I even existed by a God who knows me and loves me more deeply than I can comprehend.
