Making people cry

A few days back, Elijah and I went to check out Fantasy Kingdom with friends Clarissa and Adin. There's a big, open area for Elijah to practice his newly acquired walking skills, cars to drive, slides to plummet down, dress up, a castle, need I go on? On our way to the car, Clarissa and I decided to check out the cool-looking furniture store which adjoins the Kingdom. Upon entering, the saleswoman regarded us as one might regard a hair in their lobster bisque. "Can I help you?" she asked coolly. "Just looking," I said. She didn't reply, but her face said it all. "Well obviously you're not here to buy anything. I thought you might be looking for directions to the kiddie place next door. You want to look around? Fine, it's not like I can call the cops on you for the messy ponytail and Old Navy hoodie. Just don't let those sticky-looking children touch a thing. Better yet, you may want to tie them up to the bike rack in front."

So we circled the store, Adin obediently holding Clarissa's hand, Elijah on my hip and neither child making so much as a peep. When we were about to leave, the saleswoman again looked up from her desk, "Are you looking for furniture?" she said in disbelief. It was simply inconceivable that we would have any interest in or ability to afford anything in the store. And so I calmly repeated again, "Just looking." She looked back down at her desk as if to say, "Ok, but I really don't get what you're trying to prove here. Next time, I suggest you try that IKEA place and stop wasting everyone's time."

As I drove home, I found myself feeling, well… angry. How dare a complete stranger insult me, my friend and our darling children? I dialed 411 and asked to be connected to @&#*@&. A familiar voice answered.

"May I please speak to a manager?" I requested smoothly.
"How might I help you?" she replied.

"May I please speak with a manager?" I repeated.
"Can I help you?"
"Are you a manager?"
"I am one of the owners," she said.
"Excellent. My husband and I are redoing a few rooms in our house and our designer suggested that we take a look at your store," I lied. "Well, I wanted to just let you know that I won't be purchasing anything because the service was extremely rude."
"When were you here?" she asked.
"Just five minutes ago with my son," I said, anxiously awaiting her reply.

"I am sorry I didn't talk to you more" she said with surprising sincerity. "I, uh. All I can explain is that I am going to Vietnam to adopt a baby next week and I am very busy with everything right now." So, she's adopting a baby. Isn't that all the more reason she should be nice to people with kids?
"Well congratulations on your adoption, but I am not getting anything at your store and I'll be telling our designer about this. I certainly hope people don't treat you the same way when you have children."
"I am really sorry, I am so sorry," she said, starting to sound choked up. I couldn't believe it, was she actually starting to cry?
"Fine," I said. "Goodbye."

I don't typically enjoy making people cry. But I'll be honest, it kind of felt good. Besides, I like to think I did the woman a favor. It's never too late to learn the golden rule.