I overheard a grown, middle-aged man saying he had once experienced ‘buggy rage’ at the deli counter at Wal-Mart because (if memory serves) some lady either broke in line or mouthed off at him for allegedly breaking in line. Now that I think of it, it might have been the bakery…at the Piggly Wiggly? Details are fuzzy, but you get the drift.

I try really hard to control my anger, especially in public, even more so as it relates to deli-meat-based interactions with strangers. Sometimes that’s easier than at others. I know folks who often experience dust-ups with people they don’t know in public. Word on the street is, my sister’s been feuding with a sassy local pharmacist for more than one entire calendar year, for example, but that’s not truly my story to tell. So let’s move on.

Earlier this week, I was charged for a subscription service I did not agree to pay for. I contacted customer service. The representative wasn’t listening. I explained I wasn’t supposed to be charged, I was charged, and would like my money returned. She politely told me I was eligible for a refund. I made it clear to her, politely, that I had not signed up to be charged. It wasn’t as if I had signed up for a service, wasn’t pleased with it, and wanted my money back. They had no right to charge me in the first place. Again, she told me I was eligible for a refund. Then she added a caveat, ‘this time, but next time, I won’t be able to refund your money’.

I figured at this point, I was going to get my money back so it likely didn’t matter that she wasn’t listening to me, but I guess I had a bee in my bonnet and just couldn’t let it slip so I tried once again to explain. And again. And again. Finally, the customer service rep said, ‘Look back at what I’ve said, you will receive your refund.’ And then she added ‘this time’ once again. Again, by that point, I should have just been glad to say whatever I needed to say as long as I got my money back, but I admit, I am a sick woman. I couldn’t let it go. Almost one hour into this utterly psychotic but supremely polite back and forth, at any rate, I ended up losing my cool and blurting out, ‘GIVE ME MY REFUND. JUST GIVE ME MY REFUND.’ In my defense, I did tell her thanks, and I hoped she had a nice rest of her week.

After cooling down, the thought did occur to me that I should have just let her have her way. Path of least resistance. Choose your battles. Right? Except it wasn’t true. It wasn’t a refund for a service I had ordered. It was reversing an unauthorized charge, and she kept repeating that I had signed up for the service and agreed to the charge when I had not. Then the warning about ‘next time’ just insulted me to my core. Next time? There wasn’t a first time. Was there?

And above all else, doesn’t the truth even matter anymore? I mean, I hate to die on this particular hill, but I’m beginning to feel like Jordan Peterson here. In fact, that’s probably my whole and entire point. She was trying to force me to agree with a lie, to accept responsibility for what I did not do. And worse? To control my tongue and force me to use language which I detest. Ok, so I’m not leading a revolution or anything, but for the record, the truth does matter. It matters. And I really do hope she has a nice rest of her week.