Best Buy gets fucked by me
On the way to Best Buy, my blood is slowly boiling and my anger is in check. But, if anyone tells me that I can’t exchange this faulty merchandise, I am going to cause a scene.
The car stops in parking lot, and as I open my door, the receipt and plastic sheathing of the CD case fly out the door.
“Shit. SHIT!! Oh, fuck, fuck. FUCK!!” I yell out as I run after them, my door open and my wallet still inside of the car. They’re my only proof of purchase.
A green Mustang turns the corner and almost drives over me while I run across the parking lot.
“Sorry! Oh, so sorry,” I hold up my hand as I’m crouching down on the ground in front of a 300-hp machine. “Thanks,” I say as I skitter back to my car.
With everything now inside of the shopping bag, I walk into the store, ready to confront the CSR who didn’t give me what I wanted yesterday.
“I need one of those stickers, please,” I tell the new greeter before she even opens her mouth. She passes one over, I stick it on the CD and thank her.
Doing my attitude stomp towards the customer service area, I see three people, but none of their faces belong to David, the representative who originally “helped” me.
Fuck. I am ready for a WWF match of epic proportions - a fight where only one of us is left standing (and it won’t be him) - and the fucker doesn't even show up. Pussy.
Instead, I get to deal with Carrie. And, judging by Carrie’s looks, it seems like this pugilist has seen the inside of a ring before. This should prove interesting.
“Hello, is there anything I can help you with?” she says, feigning politeness.
“Yes, there is.” I lean forward, one elbow on the counter.
She puts away the receipts, takes a step back and crosses her arms.
I begin by placing the bag on the counter and removing the contents.
“Ok, so yesterday I came in, the first person in the store, and purchased this CD,” I point to the CD on the counter. “When I got home, I opened it up and the CD fell out of the case. The case was broken. Whether it was already broken when it was made, or when it was shipped, it was broken. If you check out the other CDs on the shelf,” I point to a random spot behind me, “you’ll see that more than half of them are also cracked. Clearly, that’s not my fault.”
Her semi-pleasant face is gone. Now, she begins to stare me down.
“So, I brought it back to the store, told the rep what happened and he said he wouldn’t exchange it because it wasn’t the store’s fault. He said the only way to exchange it is if the CD was scratched. Fine. So, I went home, listened to the CD, checked online to verify the store policy, and even called the 1-866 number and even they - Chris at extention 10467 - told me I had a right to have it exchanged. I was also told the reason why David didn’t exchange it was because he didn’t want to.” I say these last three words in staccato form.
She looks at me, about to say something unpleasant, but I cut her off before any words form on her lips.
“Oh, and by the way, the CD is scratched.” I point to the CD. “Just so you know…”
She gives me a look, pulls out the CD from the case and looks at the underside.
“Would you like to listen to it and prove me wrong?” I raise an eyebrow.
She’s not even bothering to fight. So, she does what every smart weakling does, she gets someone else to fight for her.
“Uh, Warren, could you do this?” She places the CD back in the case. “I’m going on my break,” when she says, she takes one last look at me and walks away.
Warren, who looks like Seann William Scott (without the crazy facial expression) trades places with Carrie.
“You probably already heard all of that, so I’m not going to repeat it, again.” I say, tired of telling the same story so many times. “So, can you exchange this for me?”
“Uh, I think I can.” While he’s opening the case, I begin to give a condensed version of what happened. He nods, flips the case to the back, rubs his finger along the missing teeth, and closes the case.
He types on the computer for a few minutes, prepares the papers for me to sign, and I sign them.
Before I go, I have one more thing to ask of him.
“Just indulge me for a second and open the package. Just open it. Like that, you can’t say that I wrecked it and wanted another one.”
“Um, ok.” I’m sure no one has ever asked that of him, before.
He picks up a pair of large scissors and tries to slide it underneath the packing folds, at the edge. He continues to do this for much too long and I begin to turn up the crank on crankiness.
“To make it faster, pick up an X-acto knife, slide it along the side and pull off the sheath. It’s the fastest and easiest way.”
He looks up and isn’t impressed with my suggestion.
After trying to lift up a bit of the plastic, he rips off the sheath in eight pieces. Clearly, from the expression on his face, he’s proud of himself. He flips the case back and forth and sees that everything is intact. He closes the case and inserts it back into the bag with my new receipt.
“Thanks for that. The last thing I want is to come back with another broken case and have you think, This guy is fucked up.”
“Well, we wouldn’t say that,” he says.
You may think it, though.
As I walk out of the store, I see the same greeter from yesterday. He gives me a look, like he’s seen me one too many times over the past couple of days. He smirks and I smirk back.
Best Buy tried to fuck with me, but I fucked them instead.
Note: Anticlimactic, n'est-ce pas? I wanted to cause a scene so badly, I went to Chapters and had one there, instead.
The car stops in parking lot, and as I open my door, the receipt and plastic sheathing of the CD case fly out the door.
“Shit. SHIT!! Oh, fuck, fuck. FUCK!!” I yell out as I run after them, my door open and my wallet still inside of the car. They’re my only proof of purchase.
A green Mustang turns the corner and almost drives over me while I run across the parking lot.
“Sorry! Oh, so sorry,” I hold up my hand as I’m crouching down on the ground in front of a 300-hp machine. “Thanks,” I say as I skitter back to my car.
With everything now inside of the shopping bag, I walk into the store, ready to confront the CSR who didn’t give me what I wanted yesterday.
“I need one of those stickers, please,” I tell the new greeter before she even opens her mouth. She passes one over, I stick it on the CD and thank her.
Doing my attitude stomp towards the customer service area, I see three people, but none of their faces belong to David, the representative who originally “helped” me.
Fuck. I am ready for a WWF match of epic proportions - a fight where only one of us is left standing (and it won’t be him) - and the fucker doesn't even show up. Pussy.
Instead, I get to deal with Carrie. And, judging by Carrie’s looks, it seems like this pugilist has seen the inside of a ring before. This should prove interesting.
“Hello, is there anything I can help you with?” she says, feigning politeness.
“Yes, there is.” I lean forward, one elbow on the counter.
She puts away the receipts, takes a step back and crosses her arms.
I begin by placing the bag on the counter and removing the contents.
“Ok, so yesterday I came in, the first person in the store, and purchased this CD,” I point to the CD on the counter. “When I got home, I opened it up and the CD fell out of the case. The case was broken. Whether it was already broken when it was made, or when it was shipped, it was broken. If you check out the other CDs on the shelf,” I point to a random spot behind me, “you’ll see that more than half of them are also cracked. Clearly, that’s not my fault.”
Her semi-pleasant face is gone. Now, she begins to stare me down.
“So, I brought it back to the store, told the rep what happened and he said he wouldn’t exchange it because it wasn’t the store’s fault. He said the only way to exchange it is if the CD was scratched. Fine. So, I went home, listened to the CD, checked online to verify the store policy, and even called the 1-866 number and even they - Chris at extention 10467 - told me I had a right to have it exchanged. I was also told the reason why David didn’t exchange it was because he didn’t want to.” I say these last three words in staccato form.
She looks at me, about to say something unpleasant, but I cut her off before any words form on her lips.
“Oh, and by the way, the CD is scratched.” I point to the CD. “Just so you know…”
She gives me a look, pulls out the CD from the case and looks at the underside.
“Would you like to listen to it and prove me wrong?” I raise an eyebrow.
She’s not even bothering to fight. So, she does what every smart weakling does, she gets someone else to fight for her.
“Uh, Warren, could you do this?” She places the CD back in the case. “I’m going on my break,” when she says, she takes one last look at me and walks away.
Warren, who looks like Seann William Scott (without the crazy facial expression) trades places with Carrie.
“You probably already heard all of that, so I’m not going to repeat it, again.” I say, tired of telling the same story so many times. “So, can you exchange this for me?”
“Uh, I think I can.” While he’s opening the case, I begin to give a condensed version of what happened. He nods, flips the case to the back, rubs his finger along the missing teeth, and closes the case.
He types on the computer for a few minutes, prepares the papers for me to sign, and I sign them.
Before I go, I have one more thing to ask of him.
“Just indulge me for a second and open the package. Just open it. Like that, you can’t say that I wrecked it and wanted another one.”
“Um, ok.” I’m sure no one has ever asked that of him, before.
He picks up a pair of large scissors and tries to slide it underneath the packing folds, at the edge. He continues to do this for much too long and I begin to turn up the crank on crankiness.
“To make it faster, pick up an X-acto knife, slide it along the side and pull off the sheath. It’s the fastest and easiest way.”
He looks up and isn’t impressed with my suggestion.
After trying to lift up a bit of the plastic, he rips off the sheath in eight pieces. Clearly, from the expression on his face, he’s proud of himself. He flips the case back and forth and sees that everything is intact. He closes the case and inserts it back into the bag with my new receipt.
“Thanks for that. The last thing I want is to come back with another broken case and have you think, This guy is fucked up.”
“Well, we wouldn’t say that,” he says.
You may think it, though.
As I walk out of the store, I see the same greeter from yesterday. He gives me a look, like he’s seen me one too many times over the past couple of days. He smirks and I smirk back.
Best Buy tried to fuck with me, but I fucked them instead.
Note: Anticlimactic, n'est-ce pas? I wanted to cause a scene so badly, I went to Chapters and had one there, instead.
Authored by S at 12:00 am
6 Comments:
Maybe you need a punching bag installed lol. I'm glad you finally got what you paid for.
First off, I am sorry for not having a fit at Best Buy.
Believe me, I really, really wanted to tear into some meat.
Torn: Thanks. If you ever need something exchanged, you know who to talk to.
Jeff: You should've seen her face. It was all, "I'm not even going to bother with you..."
Maybe Carrie was afraid of the fact that your eyes were glowing red and foam was coming out of your mouth.
I love to pretend to be the assistant to some very irritable, very angry, very powerful person...and that I've been instructed to return the item.
"Oh no...you don't want them to come down here. You don't want to cry in public, do you?"
Six: No, she was only worried that I cut into her smoke break.
Earl: BB would rather have the "very irritable, very angry, very powerful person" to come into the store him/herself and be treated like crap.
Mommy... scared
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