I hate Mendel's.

I'm taking a class in building little shrines, and one of the techniques I learned was embossing, using those same rubber stamps that people usually just pound into inkpads. Embossing can be a subtle use of imagery, and I was excited about adding it to the little shrine I'm currently building. I wanted stamps in the form of a palm tree and a monkey, not a cheesy, smiling monkey, but an aloof, intelligent monkey, and I've visited virtually every craft and hobby store in San Francisco with no luck. I'm also hunting for the distress ink pads made by Ranger, which I read about in the lastest "Quilting Arts" magazine, which allow you to easily fake the appearance of age for your art.

Yesterday I stopped by the loathed Mendel's on Haight Street in my continuing search (I'd already been to Pearl's the same day with no luck). Mendel's used to have an amazing selection of rubber stamps by the register, and I hoped to have luck there. I didn't see a single rubber stamp, though, which surprised me, but I did score the only Ranger distress pad I've seen anywhere (but in "Mustard Yellow", alas. I would have preferred one of the other colors). When my purchases were being rung up, I asked the snooty sales clerk, "I didn't see any rubber stamps. You don't have those any more?" He arched a supercilious eyebrow at me and said, "They're right there behind you," in a tone of voice that made it clear that I was a complete idiot for asking this question while standing right in front of the rubber stamps. I persevered: "I saw stamp pads there, but I didn't see any rubber stamps. They used to be by the register."

"We're slowly phasing them out," he said, again in a rude voice. After a pause, he then added, again in a tone of voice as though he were addressing a severely retarded person, "We haven't had any rubber stamps in a very long time." So which is it, rude boy: they're right behind me and I'm stupid for not seeing them, they're being "slowly phased out", or you "haven't had any in a very long time?"

I just hate that place. Once a woman in the fabric department was so rude to me that I walked out seething, abandoning my intended three figure fabric purchase. The problem is that the store is so inviting, with fascinating merchandise. Why is it that, unlike other stores on Haight Street, that Mendel's store culture is to be relentlessly condescending and rude to the customer?

Other people used to bitch about rudeness and condescension at the Discount Fabrics close to Mendel's, but I'd bonded with the sales people there. I buy a lot of fabric, and they all love my oversized pirate bag, being admirers of good fabric. Sadly the Discount Fabric people closed the Haight Street store after opening a large, less convenient one in the SoMA (and this store is clearly aimed towards the decorating fabrics market, having a much smaller selection of the solid cottons and wacky trims I buy), leaving Haight Street with only the horribly rude Mendel's for fabrics.

The staff was even rude to me the time I returned a stolen wallet, which turned out to belong to the niece of Mendel's owners. I found that wallet abandoned in a Haight St. gutter, stripped of its cash, but still containing various pieces of ID. At home the Sober Husband and I managed to find the owner's phone number on line, and she was happy to hear she could recover anything from the stolen wallet. "Just drop it off at Mendel's, if you can. My aunt and uncle are the owners." It was a pain to drive back over there, with no parking available and the Sober Husband driving around and around the block while I walked in. I must admit I was hoping for a warm reception, maybe even an offer of a discount on something as a reward for the wallet, but instead all I got was an arched brow from the cashier and a very cold reception indeed, as though I were a leper passing over a fallen-off finger.

I shouldn't have expected any better. The only other time I returned a stolen wallet, chock full of driver's license, credit cards, library cards, etc.., just not cash, the wallet's owner accused me of being the actual thief. That was a bit much on her part, particularly as the wallet had been found by a worshiper exiting church and turned into me, the church's receptionist, and I was seated right there at my post at the venerable old Episcopalian sanctuary. How was I supposed to be picking pockets while manning this desk at a church? And why would I call someone to return their wallet to them if I'd taken it?

In any event, returning wallets seems to be a thankless job, and shopping at Mendel's is a joyless way to spend your money. I should just buy my art supplies online if I can't find them at the delightful Flax, where the art students who work there are always sweet and helpful.