“Thank you for being a friend… Traveled down the road and back again…”

Last weekend I took my children to Borders so they could hang out in the children’s books section, browsing new titles, reading aloud to each other, and incessantly whining, “Mooooooommmmmmaaaa, please buy me this book, please! Please, Momma! Please, please, PLEEEEEEEZ!” Because I’m DUMB.

Anyhoos, my son had been going on and on and on about some book search thingymabobber at Borders and how he totally needed to look up this awesome book his teacher had been talking about and did I know if it cost money to look up books because he remembered seeing a spot for swiping credit cards on the machine and would I help him figure it out because he REALLY wanted that book and how dumb is it to charge for looking up books, anyway?! He continued along this vein throughout the drive, while parking the car, even as we were walking up to the store, so it should be no surprise to anyone that the first thing I did as we walked through the doors was to make a beeline for that damn kiosk so he would just STEP OFF.

Unfortunately a whitish-blueish-haired octogenarian was using the machine, so we parked ourselves at a respectful distance from her and patiently waited for her to finish her search.

“See, Momma? See where you put the credit card? Do we have to pay to use it? Because that would be dumb, right?”

I leaned a little closer to the machine, and by golly, there was a slot for credit cards. By leaning a bit to the left I could just… make out… the side… of the screen, which listed the functions of the machine. “Oh, that’s just for pre-orders, Buddy. The search part I am SURE is fr–”

“ExCUSE me!” a voice interrupted. “Do you need to use this machine? Because I am ALMOST. FINISHED.” (Translation: “You better back the hell away from me and my search machine, Miss Rudesby McWhippersnapper, or I will freaking cut you! That’s right, biznitch!”)

Well, I never. Of all the ill-tempered… Grandma was being SNIPPY, y’all. She had turned from the machine, apparently bothered by my presence in what she obviously considered her “personal space.” Her tone was dismissive and her whitish-blueish helmet of hair actually trembled with the force of her righteous fury. But we so did not deserve her anger, I promise you. We were at a respectful distance!

I tell you what, my own dear grandmother would NEVER act this way. No, indeed! My grandmother rocks the hizzouse! But I digress.

I blinked at her. Once. Twice. Then, “Um, yes, but we’re just waiting… we’ve never used this machine before… we were just wondering how it worked… Wait. Why? Am I bugging you?”

She glared daggers at me and my son for a half-second, then– and I am so not kidding here– hissed, “YES! You are!” and stormed off in a huff. STORMED OFF! Well, okay, as quickly as an old bag can “storm,” that is. Which isn’t very fast, actually. It was more like she hobbled or tottered. Perhaps doddered? Yes, she doddered off. In a huff.

Of course I took the high road, you know, played nice in the face of her obvious rudeness… basically set a good example for my boy. “Okay, thanks!” I called after her. “Have a grrrrrreat day!” Okay, so my voice (perhaps) may have been laced with a bit sarcasm– just a tad, mind you– but honestly. I’m only human. And a little obnoxious.

“Ooooooo-KAY,” my buddy boy said to me, raising his eyebrows. “She was rude.”

We approached the machine and took a look at the screen she had neglected to clear in her haste to dodder away. In a huff.

Search: Gospel Music.

Hee.

“Ooooh! Gospel music! Maybe she’ll find God and be nicer, eh?” I said loudly. Um, because I’m horribly rude?

Sadly, this conversion to God and the Golden Rule was not to be, as ten minutes later I saw Grandma Geezer approach a young boy using the book search machine, whisper something in his ear, then push him to the side so she could use the machine.

Search: Senior Romance and Sexuality.

Okay, fine, I am totally kidding about that last search topic. But seriously, if gospel music ain’t helpin’ the Golden Girl chill the freak out, maybe she should be looking into getting some octogenarian tail. That’s all I’m saying.

That being said, I hope she’s there the next time I am dumb enough to haul all my kids to the bookstore. That was the most fun I’ve ever had at Borders. No, really. Ever.

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