I know something about malls. When I lived for a short time in Nashville, I worked at Champs Sporting Goods. I know exactly what it feels like to be trapped inside all that polished marble and professionally tended-to landscaping and look longingly at people exiting the temperature-controlled museum of capitalism. On slow days (and that's mostly when I worked), you were simply a puppy at the pound, hoping that people would find the window displays attractive and come in for a look around. It was desperate and pathetic and I permanently smelled like my synthetic uniform. Yuck.

What I'm saying is, I sympathize with the tedium.

But today, when I went into my local Dick's Sports (I know, I know, just leave it alone. They're based in Pittsburgh and they actually do quite well.), my sympathy contended with my comsumer rights, and lost in the struggle. It went down like this here:

I had an item and a couple of questions. The sign by the register was lit and there was a guy there. So I walked up. I found, as I neared the register, that a young (20?) black guy was working there and (oh boy)... he was on the phone with a friend--the real obvious, go nowhere chit-chat phone call. I have little patience for the worker on the personal call, between you and me: I loathe it as a customer, and I resent it on behalf of the employer. If you're being paid to work, work. Do your job. Instant peeve.

When I walked up, though, this kid not only didn't hang up the phone, he didn't remove it from his neck/shoulder. He simply glanced up at me and said "I can get you here." This was his friend's cue to 'hang on just a second while I deal with this dork right quick so we can get on with our awesome conversation.'

Here is where I made a decision. I could just go along with his style, acting like this was acceptable to me. I could decide I didn't like what I saw, and just melt back into the camping aisle. Or I could speak up. Had I thought it over for a moment, I'm sure I'd have been more gracious and patient and played along. I did not think it over for a moment. I spoke immediately.

Looking blankly at him, as if I were maybe disappointed in him or at least unimpressed, I implored him. "Could you put the phone down?"

That got his attention.

He stared up at me for a moment, seeing if this was some sort of joke. For some reason, I was completely unwilling to let him off the hook in any way. I just stood there with this "I mean, come ON" look on my face. I think he thought there was a twinge of Michael Douglas in Falling Down in me (and maybe there was! maybe there was!), and he slowly put the phone down, and from there on treated me with not only respect, but friendliness. I was friendly too.

So yeah, it ended good. But I walked away with that feeling I have every once in a while, knowing I voilated some small American norm. It's kind of exciting when that kind of thing happens. And if it were me chatting to a buddy behind that register, I'd be grateful for anything breaking up the monotony.