Happy Halloween! On this October 31, what is scarier than poor spelling? Take a look below and see for yourself! These are poorly-spelled search terms that somehow led people to this site. Boo!
It was 11 am. Sales were slow so far on this first post-summer morning. I was feeling fantastic after a perfect night’s sleep. I only had one customer in the store. He was a somewhat odd fellow, late 30’s, liked to look stuff up in the computer, write it down, and then not buy it. Different strokes for different folks, I say. All the bosses were in the back office, as is typical. I was listening to Jethro Tull, Elvis Costello, and Max Webster. Nothing later than 1981, of course.
In walks our main character to this story. He’s a tall fellow, very tall, but even now I can’t quite put his face into focus. I can’t even clearly recall if he had a beard or not. I do remember his height, because he towered over me when I stood next to him. In his hands was a copy of Shaggy’s Hot Shot-Remixed album.
To get the proper effect, please read all of his dialogue in a Jamaican accent, a forceful Jamaican accent. He was holding the Shaggy CD in his hands, and I saw our price tag on it.
“Yo, I bought this one but…it’s not the right one. Can I get somethin’ else?”
“Sure, just take a look around if you want. Do you have the receipt?”
His eyes got wide, he smiled a huge toothy “just ate the cat” smile, and then said, “Ahh man, I think I lost it somewhere.”
The price tag looked quite worn, it could have been purchased some time ago. We had our exchange policy: 7 days (+ an unspoken 7 more days just to avoid hassles). We also needed a receipt for all exchanges except in special cases. All of this was clearly stated on the store signage as well as the lost receipt.
“Ahh, see, we need to have the receipt for all exchanges. Sorry man…”
“Ahh come on man! You remember me buying this thing don’t you?”
“Actually, no, I don’t, not really, without a receipt…”
“Ahh come on man I just want to switch it!”
Prior to this I was on the sales floor. I walked behind the counter, and said, “Without a receipt, I can’t do that. The best I could do would be to buy it back from you.” I motioned for him to hand me the CD.
“Huh?” He handed me the CD. I opened the jewel case and examined the condition of the disc.
“I could buy it back from you used.”
Shaggy was quite scratched indeed. I chose not to say anything about it, since he’d claim he bought it like that. They always say that whether they did or didn’t, so my saying anything about it wouldn’t help. However, to buy it back in that condition normally we would give less, to cover the cost of having the CD buffed back to a new finish. I chose not to do that either, since I was being a hard ass on the rules I’d cut him a break on the condition.
“I can give you four dollars for this.”
“What?” Eyes go wide again. “I just want to switch it man, I’m the customer!”
“I know, but as I said, I can’t do that for you. What I can do is give you four dollars for that CD, but that’s the best I can do.”
“You know what, I’m the customer, and [accent gets too thick for me to continue]…”
Then, he took the CD in his hands, jewel case and all, and crushed it. Pieces went flying everywhere. He stomped to the door, where he stood in the doorway and yelled “I am the customer!”
Out he went. There was this moment of awkward silence. Then, the man at the lookup computer (who I’d forgotten all about) chimed in.
“So, let me get this straight. You were going to give him $4 for that CD. Then he crushed it. Now he can’t get anything for it. How did that guy think that was a good idea?”
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