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Bling! Bling! Bling!

A chime sounded as he entered K.O. Bigsby General Merchandise. His eyes held a dangerous glare. From left to right he surveyed the small store, still looming at the doorway. No associate was visible at either the counter or the shelves.

Bling!

The door shut behind him. Len marched up to the register and yelled, "Refund! Refund! Angry Customer!" A young woman wearing a yellow K.O. Bigsby shirt stood slowly from behind some boxes near the rear entrance, but she didn't speak.

"Hello? I'm here to get a refund!" Len barked.

"I'm sorry. He isn't here," said the woman, whose name tag read Lilly.

"Who's – what? No, I'm here for a refund!"

Lilly shrugged. With slow, graceful steps that never seemed to touch the floor, she glided toward the front counter and then, to Len's shock, past it to a shelf of knickknacks on the other side of the store. Len's eyes might have bulged out completely. "I said I'm here for a refund!"

Lilly pulled some items off the shelf to replace in a box. She didn't look at Len.

"Are you deaf?" he raised his voice ever louder. At this, Lilly made a sweeping turn toward him and tilted her head to the side while she stared into his eyes. He was taken aback by her curious penetration, his brown eyes mocked by her jade ones as though he'd just said something peculiar. He wanted to yell at her, to explain the purchase that had not – most certainly not – lived up to its supposed purpose, and to get his money refunded for buying it. She didn't seem to care that there was a customer – a properly irate customer – waiting in front of the register. He dumped the contents of his plastic bag onto the counter. "I'm returning an item," he said through gritted teeth.

Lilly blinked.

"It doesn't work, it's worthless, and I want to return it. Will you refund my money or not?" Did he have to spell everything out for her?

"Refunds are only on Wednesdays," she said, returning to her task.

"But-but-but," Len sputtered, "Today is Thursday." He received no response. Was she dumb? "Your- your receipt says 'items must be returned within three days and in their original packaging.' They didn't say anything about it needing to be a Wednesday when they sold me this piece of junk on Tuesday!" When Lilly continued to ignore him, his voice grew loud again. "No one told me! I didn't know! This isn't my fault! Give me my refund! I'll call a lawyer! I'll call the press!" Nothing made the woman react.

Eventually, she lifted the box she was filling and began to carry it over to the stack where he'd first seen her. As she wafted by, his control gave way. He stood directly in her path. When she moved to go around him, he moved to remain in her way. She stopped, stood straight, and looked at him. He thought she held her lips more tightly than before, but otherwise she showed no emotion. She waited without speaking. "I'm not leaving until I get my refund," he challenged.

"I'm sorry." She said.

"What, you don't know how to open the register?"

She ignored his question. "There's a little food in the break room, some chips and the like, but I'm not sure it will be enough until next Wednesday."

He stood, perplexed, and she fairly floated around him. He spun on his heel. He wouldn't be outdone. "You mean there's really no one going to be here until next Wednesday who can take a return? You don't understand – I'm going out of town. I can't be here next Wednesday. I need to make this return now. My leg hurts me from time to time and I couldn't get in yesterday. Just give me the worth of this thing back and make the actual refund to your inventory when your manager is here to do it."

She set down her box and turned back toward him. In a steady voice, she reminded him, "But you said the item wasn't worth anything." Then she turned again to her work.

What kind of manager hired a girl like that? Who would employ someone so … so … "Where is your manager? Do you have his phone number? Maybe he can walk you through the process."

Lilly straightened again and finally – finally! – walked behind the counter. She glanced at the product and its torn box, then looked up at Len blankly. "It's not in the original package."

"That's the original package!"

Her eyebrows raised, the first emotion other than curiosity he'd seen on her face. Moving only her eyes, she looked down at the item and back up at Len, then shook her head – a small motion – and began to leave the counter.

"Wait!" Len fairly screamed. "I know it's not actually 'in' the package, but it still has the package, and it can be taped."

She looked at him again and a new emotion settled across her face: pity. "You have three Wednesdays to return it, and you've lost only one so far. Take it home, tape it up, make it look like you just bought it, then come back on a Wednesday when the man who takes returns is here and he can issue you a refund. Run along now."

He opened his mouth to yell again, but then closed it without making more than an odd vocal straining sound. A woman like that. What could he do? He looked at his receipt again. It did say 'three days' but it could be construed to mean three Wednesdays, he supposed. And that way he could play with the item more before returning it. Heaving a sigh so she would understand how put out he was, he left.

He was three blocks down the street before he realized what an inconvenience it was that he had to come all the way back the Wednesday after next. How inconvenient for a customer! That's wrong – to inconvenience a customer. He should be compensated! He marched back to the store and only barely heard a vehicle pulling away.

The store was dark inside and a CLOSED sign dangled at eye level. Drat everything! He'd have to remember to add this inconvenience to his list when he came back. He looked at the HOURS sign to see when he could come back, remembering that he'd have to wait until a Wednesday to return. "Wednesday, 11:00am – 6:00pm" the sign informed him. Six? It couldn't be that late. How long had he been in there? He eyed the sign again and cursed the unfairness of everything. He tried the door, but it held tightly, supporting the sign's statement of "Thursday, Closed All Day." No longer certain of even his own outrage, Len headed home to decide what he should do.