I don’t know why every human interaction has to be charged with high drama. Relax, people. I’m trying to do my part, and the least you can do is not take every eye blink as a criticism of your very existence.

What? Oh, I guess I’m still bristling a little (and there I go, not taking my own advice) from an encounter at the mall yesterday. I went to get my watch battery replaced, but I gave up on that when there was a sign at the JC Penney watch repair department’s outer door. Back tomorrow at 10:00 am. And I knew I wasn’t going to be driving to the mall on the Saturday of a holiday weekend. I was resigned to not knowing what time it is until at least Tuesday.

So I stomped back out of the store and headed toward my car (safely locked in the parking lot), but then I made a U-turn. I knew there was a card store in the mall somewhere, although it had been so long since I’d been there that I couldn’t remember where they moved it to. I just walked down the main breezeway looking at the signs on the doors (and wondering where all these strange stores came from).

I had already walked past the jewelry kiosk when I turned back and saw that they had watch batteries. So I asked the girl if they had watch batteries. Well, you have to start a conversation with something snappy, you know. She said they had two batteries that would fit my watch. One was $12.00 and came with a one-year warranty. The other was $16.00 and came with a three-year warranty.

Being of nearly empty wallet status after the bank reconciliation fiasco earlier in the week, I opted for the $12.00 battery. After all, I told myself, this is a kiosk. What are the chances it will still even be here in three years?

That apparently was a mistake, though. I tried to be friendly (while giving her enough space to put my one-year battery in properly), but she wasn’t having any of it. I asked about the card shop, but she didn’t know if there was one in the mall at all. So I gave up talking, but I kept smiling. I mean, I didn’t need to play into her foul mood, so I did my best to keep the spirit of the transaction light-hearted.

I paid her and thanked her and walked away, and there, two doorways down from her kiosk, was the very card shop I asked about. Sigh.

I have to say that the woman in the card shop was extremely pleasant, even though all I was buying was a card. She didn’t judge me. And I can’t tell you who the card is for, because I don’t want to spoil the surprise, but there’s a family birthday next week. Someone is going to be one year old. (Oh. I guess she probably wouldn’t read this anyway, come to think of it.)