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Imprisoned Without a Cell To Speak Of
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Yes, he acknowledged, but that was more than six years ago; things have changed.
Maybe the sit-in wasn't such a helpful idea, but it had been emotionally satisfying.
The third time, I brought the phone and my husband.
"I'm sorry, just write your concerns on this legal pad; our computers are down," a greatly agitated greeter said. We wrote down our names and phone numbers and the problem.
Twenty minutes later, when our names were called, the manager came up to me. I was afraid he was going to complain about the makeup incident, but he just told us he couldn't make a sale right then. The computers were all down and he couldn't even dial out to verify a credit card.
Couldn't he use a cellphone?
The manager shook his head helplessly. "No reception in the building."
I recognized divine karma when I saw it, gave up and went to the pharmacy to buy some stationery, stamps and a pen.
