Krazy Indeed

So yesterday, Five Year Old needed a day off. It was pre-planned, and we spent the day together. Two year old was there for part of it, but then she took a nap, and my super-amazing-fantastic niece came by to babysit so we could go do something fun without little miss cheese eater.

For this mental health day, Five Year Old wanted to go to Krazy City, which is an arcade with a few rides, a climbing section, some duck pin bowling, neon mini golf, and a few other activities. She's been wanting to go there for awhile, and I filled up a points card about 2 years ago when they were running a promotion so I didn't mind taking her.

When we got there we were accosted by a forty-something year old hyperactive woman, who declared "Miss Layne is my name! Fun is my Game!" I have no problem with this, and I love it when people really love their jobs, and actually care. That part of it is great, and I appreciate her for it, because really she made the time there fun. She was having fun, didn't seem annoyed, and engaged with both me and my kid.

I showed her my very old card, and she swiped it through a reader and told me it was disabled. So we walked over to the front desk, and she let the young girl behind the counter know what the problem was. The young man , also behind the counter, told the young woman what to do.

"You gotta call him."

Just like that. Not "call Bill," or "call John," or "call the manager," or "call the boss." Just "him."

She gets on the phone and starts talking quietly then starts typing stuff on the keyboard, and I hear her reading off numbers. She hangs up, and I ask what is happening.

"your card is disabled. He's gonna come and fix it."

I am not making this up. I ask if there is a substantial point amount left and she says, "yes," and adds "He's coming to fix it."

So I wait a few minutes, assuming I'll see a guy in gray or khaki colored shirt with a solid tie, thinning hair and scuffed shoes, pull himself out of the office to deal with this card issue.

Nope.

HE was maybe in his early twenties, very short spiky black hair (spiky on purpose), wearing a wife beater undershirt a thick gold necklace and what ever the male version of Capri pants are (basically duty length shorts): "Him."

So HE starts doing stuff on the computer and I ask if there are a lot of points, and he says yes, about 600. (At the time it was two for one so I got 600 for the price of 300). Luckily, I don't tell him about how I got my great deal, because I asked why it was disabled, and he explained that my card was sold to me (actually my friend was at Krazy City when they had this promotion and she called me, and bought them for me)by a guy who thought it would be a good idea to sell the cards and points, but keep the money for himself. I guess the whole "computer database" thing didn't register with him at the time. So they had disabled all the cards sold by this guy, but if you came up and told them, they would reactivate it. I don't know if they were able to track which are the "stolen" cards and that's why they reactivated it, or if you just need to ask. Either way, he looked at me and said "He's not with us anymore."

I did not want to ask if "US" meant the Krazy City family of employees, or the more general "US," as in living and breathing members of society.

I thanked HIM, kept my mouth shut about my two for one points and went to stomp arcade spiders.