At first there was only canned music — happy riffing on a Hammond B3 while a guitarist and rhythm section funked it up — then the line clicked and a woman answered.
“Thank you for calling Kohl’s,” she said.
“Yeah, I’m curious what your hours will be tomorrow,” I stated. The line went deathly silent. I assumed that I we were honoring the memory of some fallen hero and waited breathlessly. After a while it occurred to me that we might have been disconnected.
“Hello?” I asked hesitantly.
“I… actually have no idea when we’re open tomorrow,” she laughed and answered.
“So… will you be open at all tomorrow?” I asked. If ever there were a justification to torture someone to get an answer, this was it.
“Oh, we’ll be open, I just don’t know when.”
So, tomorrow Cake Woman and I will be finding a pair of pants to replace the Dickies that she didn’t like, partly because “those will be so hot in the summer that you will get dick rot.” Also, I don’t think that they showcase my hot ass to her satisfaction. (Smack! I don’t think you’re ready for this jelly!) Considering that I have a pair of pants to return, $6 left on my gift card, a square of paper proclaiming that it is $10 in “Kohl’s cash,” and theoretically a 15% off coupon, I will probably be able to buy the entire clearance rack in my size, which is 36x30, or really, 36x28, but I can never find pants that short since anything shorter than 30 seems to just have children’s sizing information, like S, M, L, Husky. I guess that I would wear in Husky and all of my pants would have elastic waists. Actually, that would probably be really comfortable.