Tomorrow, we leave the cabin, so today is sort of a work day, as we clean up and then pack up to leave. We did laundry in the morning, which went faster than expected. So quickly that after we had finished, we time to kill before Wicked Sister opened up at eleven. To kill time, we went to the hardware store, where he had another set of cabin keys made and bought squirrel proof Rubbermaid tubs to store extra bedding and the such. We still got to the restaurant too soon and had to wait outside until it opened. We were still the first ones seated. After lunch, we hit Meijer’s one last time. We cashed in our returnables, for a whopping $2.90. The machine wouldn’t take one bottle, because its label was messed up and wouldn’t scan. That lost dime would take on major dimensions not too much later. Like I said, we are leaving tomorrow and Dan and Britt are departing the day after. So, running down the refrigerator is the order of the day, but while at the store, we got a text telling us that we were out of bread. Meijer’s has this really good sourdough bread and we grabbed a loaf of it. In order to use the bottle deposit coupons, we had to go through one of the regular checkout lines. Ahead of us in line, was a mother accompanied by her adult daughter. Their checkout went speedily, at least until it was time for them to pay. The mother put her card into the machine, but then it asked her for her PIN. She didn’t know her PIN. It turns out that she thought that she was using her credit card, but was actually using her debit card. She became embarrassed and got flustered and they both began profusely apologizing to us. The daughter after berating her mother, whipped out $111 in cash to pay the tab. This flustered the clerk who then mistyped the transaction, such that the ladies were now due $900 cashback. The clerk then called for backup. Anne began feeling uncomfortable about the whole predicament and wanted to change lanes, which we did, but not before the woman behind us changed lanes first and we then had to wait for her to checkout. In the end, even with our bottle return receipts, our remaining tab was a dime more than the change Anne had in her pocket and I had to break a $1, but who is going to refund me the time that we lost in that checkout lane?
What is a few minutes of the vacation time of a retired engineer worth Mark?
Wow. You must share that metric. Did it come out of an algorithm, or your … imagination.