Yeah, yeah, there’s karma, and we should all be good human being. But let’s be honest: we aren’t. It’s just a fact. Not everyone is a good person.
I try to be a good person.
I’m not always.
But I try, and I feel like that should count for something. Except for when it sucks.
Here’s the thing.
The other day, I went to buy a kiln kit. It’s super cool, and it will let me play with glass using the kiln in a microwave oven. I’ll be able to make neat patterns with glass, make necklaces, make earrings, make bracelets, make all kinds of jewelry.
So I went into a hobby/craft store to buy it.
I had a 40% off coupon because they always have a 40% off one-item coupon.
The kiln kit was $119.95.
With the 40% off, it should have been about $72.
I also found a few clearance items to toss in, along with a few spare bits of glass that I wanted to use, like some clear glass blanks to use as bases.
The guy behind the register rang me up.
Told me my total: $24 and change.
Ummm, did he get everything? I said.
Yeah, he said. And I took the 40% off the most expensive item, he said, pointed to the kiln kit.
Now I had what I considered a hard choice to make.
I could walk outta that store, having paid under $25, and have my kiln kit and all my goodies.
Or I could tell him, dude, you rang that up wrong. It’s not $19.95. It’s $119.95.
If I did that, though, my total was going to go up by a few dollars. Dollars I could really use in my wallet right about now.
But it would be totally dishonest.
He probably wouldn’t get in trouble for it, but it would be stealing from the business. They shouldn’t have to suffer from a guy’s mistake because he read the price too quickly and didn’t know what it was worth since he wasn’t familiar with it.
I breathed in. Breathed out.
Told him, hey, I think you read that wrong.
And I pointed to the price again.
He was shocked, said thanks, and re-rang my purchase.
It wound up costing more than $24 for all my stuff.
Do I regret telling him?
Just a little bit. I would have loved to have gotten it super cheap, an amazing deal.
But it wouldn’t have been a deal. It would have been dishonest.
My husband, when I lamented my foolishness in honesty, pointed out that if I had chosen to not tell the cashier, I would have felt guilty each and every time I use the kiln. And he’s right about that; I would have never gotten over the fact that I would have stolen it (well, mostly stolen it – I would have partially paid for it, right?).
Now I have my kiln, and I have my glass, and I’m going to (hopefully) get some pieces made and up for sale for my next craft show the first week in May.
Wish me luck.
And the next time you have someone make a mistake like that with you, remember that I’m an idiot, but you could be one, too.