Every work day, after I eat my Lean Cuisine, I head to Specialty’s for a milk chocolate chip cookie. Today, I braved the cold and drizzle to the cookie counter a block and a half away. After ordering, I stepped aside to put the change in my wallet.
The woman behind me steps up to the window with a ziplock bag in her hand. There’s a cookie inside. She’s about my age, looks completely normal. “My husband bought this for me,” she explains with a slight European accent. “I’d like to exchange it for a different one. An exchange.” She says this all very matter of factly.
I was already leaving the counter, but caught the attendant lifting his eyebrow in surprise. He stared at her, perplexed as to what to say. I didn’t get a chance to find out how the scene played out. It was just so bizarre. She acted as if she was exchanging a medium-sized sweater for a small at Banana Republic. What the hell is Specialty’s going to do with a ziplocked cookie? Resell it to someone? What was she thinking?