But Don't Trust Borders

Saturday rolls around. I'm up. I'm out of bed. I'm ready to go.

Go now...now now please...let's go now!!

Four hours later my husband is finally considering putting on his socks.

Despite the delays I manage to get to our local Borders on the appointed "Harry Potter Sticker Day". One Day Only. Come in on Saturday and get a sticker. Only on our "Harry Potter Sticker Day" We had to stop for lunch first, and lightbulbs, and the traffic sucked...but I made it. I waited for three days to reserve my book and - you know - get a sticker.

This was better than Christmas.

By the time we got to Borders I was basically running through the doors and straight to the info desk. I stood in line patiently, nearly growling at every person who I perceived was trying to get ahead of me - even when they actually just wanted to check out the half price romance books.

Finally, I get to the bubbly blonde who is more than happy to take my reservation for Harry Potter number seven.

She takes my name.

She writes down my address.

She takes my phone number.

And my cell phone number.

And my work number.

And she askes me if I've ordered anything in the last six months.

Then she chit-chats with her manager about some display thing.

Then she asks me if I've ordered anything in the last six months - again.

Then she waits while my reciept prints out.

Then she tells me about the price and discounts and yada-yada-yada.

All the while I'm jealously eyeing her "Ask me about Harry Potter! and our new stickers TODAY!" badge.

She hands me the receipt and there is a quick, awkward moment of silence.

"Um, could I get a sticker?" I ask, sweetly, if not a little anxiously.

"Oh, we don't have any...they haven't come in yet."

I don't know how I didn't break down into full toddler mode right there, but somehow I managed to thank her politely and walk away.

Inside I was throwing a full blown temper tantrum.

I WANT A STICKER!!!!!!!!

We spent the rest of the day going grocery shopping and supplies shopping and gag-me computer store shopping. My husband bought me a new mouse pad...but it was no sticker.

The weekend sucks.

And Borders sucks more.