|
I work in retail at a privately owned Radio Shack(tm)(R)(C) somewhere in the south east, and in doing so, I gain a rather interesting view of the human condition. (I don't know if that cliche is appropriate here or not, but it sounds elevated, doesn't it?) I view people at their worst--suffering from the confusion and embarrasment of the realization of the limits of their intelligence. If you tell a big angry black man that his nose hair trimmer isn't working because *HE* put the batteries in backward, he gets pissed. Sure it doesn't make sense, but you expose someone's stupidity and they turn mean. Anyway, the following is an updatable database of stories of that sort that will be updated when I damn well feel like it. The main page will notify you on the rare occasions that happens. All hail the psycho-analyitical duckblind that is Radio Shack(tm)(R)(C)!
|
Entry 1:
I remember a while back having this rather odd lady come into the store and try to return some random piece of machinery. I think it was a $100 security system, but for humor sake we'll say it was a cattle prod or semi-automatic. Anyway, I was off helping some other dude, and this... thing was at the counter screaming at one of my co-workers.
I didn't come into the story until later, but it seems that while I was helping other customers, the little gnomish-woman (about 4'8, cockeyed, patches of body hair sticking out of her clothing at odd places... definately gnomish) wanted to return this sawed off shotgun, even though the only reciept she had was faded and for a $200 item. (Not the item in question that I continue to name randomly)
Eventually everyone else in the store left (as is natural around closing time) so I walked up and eavesdropped. This little ogre was "persuading" my co-worker to give her $200 for a used piece of crap using literally nothing but cusswords, punctuated by her fist slamming on our shaky glass counter. I watched for a while before saying, "Ma'mm... don't hit our counter." She paused, looked at me for the first time, blinked, then fully launched into the aforementioned co-worker again. This woman spewed out cuss words for about 20 minutes, screaming at potential customers that, "RADIO SHACK(c)(R)(tm) IS CRAP! IT WILL BREAK AND THE RETURN POLICY SUCKS! YOU'LL BE HERE RIGHT WHERE I AM! JUST REMEMBER I WARNED YOU!"
"In fact," said the she-devil, "I'm going to a party tonight and I'm going to tell everyone there not to buy Radio Shack merchandise!" She paused. "In fact you've made me late for my party! Give me a phone so I can call them!" At this point the phone rang and my co-worker walked off to answer it.
I spoke, "There's a pay phone across the street. Riiiight over there." I pointed.
"There's no way I'm using a pay phone! Give me the #%@& phone!"
"Our phone is Radio Shack. It's crap. It doesn't work."
She looked shocked, struggled for words, and then stormed out of the store, "NEITHER DO YOU!" She lamely hollered as she stomped off with the RADIOSHACK BRAINWASHER(R)(tm)(c) she had hoped to return.
"Have a nice day!"
|
|
