12:09:2003 Entry: "Ann : Tim"
Yesterday, Tim was downtown picking up a prescriptions and some other products at a Walgreens. He asked the checkout clerk to double bag it, stating that he was taking the bus and would like to have it double bagged. The clerk proceeded checking out, but no sign of double bagging. Tim again reminded him if he could double bag it. When the clerk handed him his purchase, single bagged, Tim got angry and yelled at him (in what I presume would be a loud, booming voice--I wasn't there, but I have heard loud angry Tim--a rarity--before): "Just what part of double bag don't you understand?" The clerk cowered and double bagged it.
I had a different checkout clerk experience yesterday at Office Depot. I had two separate purchases, one taxable, one not. For each purchase, the clerk stated the total, each sounded like:
Um....don't they know that the more they mumble the price, the longer it takes (there was a line behind me) because the customer has to ask, "How much?" It's not like they had a cash register with a digital readout that you could see the total so you didn't need to interact with the clerk (that would've been preferable).
Why are people so damn stupid?
And of course, had the situations been reversed and I'd have yelled at my non-double bagger, I'd just be seen as a snappy bitch, rather than a forceful, rightfully angry male. As it was, I was probably just seen as deaf, as Tim would've been in the same situation. But nonetheless, the advantage of gender, and the advantage of height, that someone like Tim has over someone like me in certain sitautions is amazing.
And then again, sometimes it's not an advantage. A week ago on Monday, Tim suffered a minor stroke.
It turns out he was diagnosed with something called "Marfan Syndrome" which affects one of the heart valves. Sufferers typically are very tall, thin, not much musculature, are very nearsighted, have hypermobility (flexible joints) and long, narrow faces and crowded teeth. Well damn, except for the weak heart (to the best of my knowledge) and height, that fits me to a T too! In fact, while I was visiting Tim in the hospital last week, he had a doctor and some interns in the room with him. They were seeing if he had the hypermobility and asked him if he could pull his thumb back to touch his arm. Although they did diagnose him with Marfan's, one doesn't have to have all of the symptoms to have the syndrome, and Tim clearly was having trouble demonstrating hypermobility in his thumb.
"Like this?" He tried feebly pulling his thumb back.
"Like this!" I said, and pulled my thumb way back to not only touch my arm but go past it. I could see the doctors' eyes grow huge and someone said, "Looks like she has hypermobility," and another asked, "Are you two related?" I found that amusing. I'm all of 5 foot 3 on a good day. Tim is 6 foot 6.
Not genetically, although maybe psychicly...we seem to know when the other is calling and sometimes get busy signals trying to call eachother. And we were born in the same hospital, although we didn't meet until I was 32. And we've made jokes that the other is our sibling, as I'm more like Tim in personality than his own sisters are, and well, I don't have any siblings.
Tim is now on coumadin and is taking heparin shots. And he will probably have off from his job (he teaches Special Ed kids in middle school) for the rest of the semester. He can't smoke anymore, which I'll like, and he also can't drink alcohol, which will mean I won't be able to drink around him either out of respect...not so much fun for me. He also can't eat green, leafy vegetables that are high in Vitamin K which helps blood clot, but then again, he doesn't eat those anyway (grrrr). It's too bad it took something like this to get him to stop smoking. I also hope he starts eating healthier (except for the green leafy vegetables).
It's been a very scary week.