Busy to the endAS PROOF of the busy schedule he kept right...

Sometimes Scene in Anne Arundel County

July 12, 1998|By Kevin Kohler A question of where, not who

Busy to the end

AS PROOF of the busy schedule he kept right to the end, longtime Maryland Comptroller Louis L. Goldstein was the subject of a news release from Anne Arundel Community College that arrived on an editor's desk Wednesday.

Goldstein, who died July 3, was listed as the star of a discussion on World War II on July 22 at the Arnold campus, where he was to talk about his experience in the war, his involvement in the war crimes trials, and use of the atom bomb. The program was intended to complement the July 23 dedication of the Maryland World War II memorial on Route 450 in Anne Arundel County.

The college has canceled the round-table discussion.

DOWNTOWN Annapolis is enough of a tourist mecca during sunny summer days to make finding local residents a challenge.

So the other day, inquiring what people thought of former Gov. William Donald Schaefer's bid for the state comptroller's job, I met a lot of out-of-towners as I strolled Main Street.

All too often, the answer sounded like this: "I'm sorry, I'm from Massachusetts, I don't know your Mr. Schaefer. But can you tell me, is this Main Street?"

Andrea F. Siegel

Trust and collateral

WHILE WAITING to get an oil change Wednesday at a Pasadena Shell station, a patron walked up to the cashier with a soda and some cookies in hand before realizing she didn't have any cash.

When she offered to put the less than $3 total on her charge card, the cashier said that was fine.

"You can go ahead and eat it, and I'll just add the amount to your bill when your oil change is done," the cashier said. "I trust you.

"Besides, I have your car keys."

Cheryl Tan

Shoe sale foul-up

THESE WOMEN were at the mall to shop for shoes, and anyone in their way be damned.

The ad in the paper had heralded a to-die-for sale on every kind of footwear at the Hecht's department store at Marley Station mall in Glen Burnie.

So on Thursday night, the women were there, ready to shop. But employees working the shoe department were outnumbered at least 20-2.

It wasn't a pleasant situation. This was the scene:

Shoes -- scores of them -- were scattered everywhere.

Two harried employees were running around, trying to meet the customers' demands.

And more than a dozen women -- getting less patient by the minute -- were holding out sandals in every color and style and hollering things like, "I need this one in a 6," and "I'll try this in an 8 1/2 , in black if you have it instead of the brown, but in brown if that's all you have."

These women, myself included, were like vultures, looking for a good shoe at a better price. Service was not good, to say the least -- through no fault of the hard-working, understaffed shoe department.

Finally, one woman, clearly fed up with not getting shoes to try on, said, "Why on earth would you people have this big of a sale, advertise it like crazy and only have two people working in the shoe department?"

One of the two employees -- politely, mind you -- replied, "Ma'am, this sale wasn't supposed to start until tomorrow. The paper ran the ad a day early."

Kirsten Scharnberg

Sign of the times, part 1

THE ROWE Boulevard approach to Annapolis features no shortage of signs. But the one advising motorists where Taylor Avenue, the State House and the Naval Academy are had an addition Monday morning.

Across the words "State House" was plastered a "sold" sticker.

Andrea F. Siegel

Sign of the times, part 2

A JUMBLE of signs also adorns Ritchie Highway headed south into Annapolis, and one was a particularly welcome sight as I hurried to a meeting in Severna Park and realized the needle was pointing to empty.

"Exxon," said the enormous sign. I pulled into the nearest gas station, stuck a credit card into the pump, but then was frustrated when the machine directed: "See the cashier inside." Great, I muttered, looking at my watch.

The clerk didn't even wait for me to talk. "Look at your card."

Oh, good. A snotty clerk when I'm in a hurry. "It's fine," I told her after briskly scanning the expiration date.

"It's Exxon," she said. "This is Amoco."

Oh.

"Am I like the stupidest person in America?"

"No, it happens a lot," the clerk said.

Somebody ought to do something about that jumble of signs on Ritchie Highway.

Rosemary Armao

Pub Date: 7/12/98

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