Yesterday was quite the test for me on my journey to seeking Him. It was the first day of a new month, which means payday on Camp Pendleton. God tested me good, and I failed. We were celebrating getting Hawaii Five-0, season 1 on DVD and planned a Hawaiian weekend. Part of this included making the haul (about 40 minutes) to the opposite side of base to the Koa Teriyaki Grill and Maui Wowi for our yum-yums for the day. We decided since we were making the haul we may as well stop at the Commissary. We knew it would be a beast, but we only needed a few things so we took the chance.
God was good and the Commissary wasn’t too bad at all! There was just one girl sitting on a randomly placed bench with a cart full of groceries blocking the lane who got on my nerves enough to make me say something about her toddler grabbing hold of everyone’s cart causing a cluster f–k. I stated how it wasn’t cute, it was obnoxious as we walked by. Sorry, God. I tried and was doing pretty good until then.
Apparently He thought it would be nice to continue testing me and my first world problems. Read: FIRST WORLD PROBLEMS. I get that I am about to sound really ridiculous.
We got in line to get in a check-out lane. For those who are not military: at the commissary (which is the grocery store on base) you form one line and there is usually someone telling you which check out lane to get into based off speed and who has nobody in their lane. Lanes 13 and 14 were open and the cashier at 13 yelled “Next on 13!” so we headed there as she called for baggers. Again, for those not in the military: there are baggers who work for tips an tips only at the commissary. The bag your groceries and take them out to your car. This usually gets them three or four bucks from me. If you don’t take them to my car, I give them my change from the transaction. The cashier called for baggers and nobody showed up so my husband bagged our groceries. At a normal grocery store out in town this would have warranted absolutely no response from me. At the commissary, where they provide this service to you and you become accustomed to it, the absence (on payday none the less) kind of irritated me. I asked the cashier who I could talk to about it. I didn’t need to as she called the supervisor who immediately began looking for the baggers assigned to lane 13.
The whole way to our car I complained like a child and my husband droned on about being a veteran and asking if this is how they treat people coming back from war zones and proposing the question if they knew who he was. Not like he is anybody important, but it’s our inside joke whenever something doesn’t go our way. We got in the car after moving our frozen good into insulated bags. Remember, we’re about 40 minutes from home.
We now head across the parking lot to the Koa Teriyaki Grill. We stood at the register for about ten minutes while a girl stood at the grill and a gentleman messed around with smoothies. It took ten minutes for either of them to acknowledge we were standing there and let us know they would be right with us. Seriously, God? I’m working on patience and this is how you test me? We finally order two small smoothies and two combo plates of pork and chicken to go. Smoothie one: black raspberry with kiwi lime. Smoothie two: black raspberry with strawberry banana. Both smoothies came out regular (and we were charged for regular, even though we ordered small, and I had to fight for a receipt!). Smoothie one was correct. Smoothie two came out strawberry banana-kiwi lime.
After sitting there for about ten minutes waiting for our smoothies while the smoothie guy chatted up the two very young Marine wives who were ferociously flirting with him we got the wrong smoothies but decided we would go with it. Then we waited about ten more minutes to be handed two plates of food.
I.Lost.It.
I said to the girl how we got the wrong smoothies, and now a to go ticket was being handed to us on plates? Was there any part of our order they were not going to mess up? A woman commented about how nasty I was and how there were only two people there. I informed her no, I’ve worked in a place similar and it’s not rocket science. It doesn’t even require a high school degree. Slap a smile on and do your job.
I settled with the guy wrapping our food in aluminum foil as he gave a million reasons for things going wrong that day. I didn’t care. You have a mindless job to do and a company to represent and you failed. All while I had frozen goods thawing out in my car with an additional 40 minutes to go.
It was I who failed. It was my selfishness. It was my inability to bite my tongue. It was my abrasive personality shining through. Oh, you didn’t pick up on the fact that I have an abrasive personality? I do, and it is the beast I have been given to tame.
Turn away your face from my sins;
blot out all my iniquities.
A clean heart create for me, God;
renew within me a steadfast spirit.
Do not drive me from before your face,
nor take from me your holy spirit.
Restore to me the gladness of your salvation;
uphold me with a willing spirit.
Psalm 50:11-14
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The Young Retiree 