Post by Lantlas on Feb 6, 2007 23:49:10 GMT -5
"Do You Trade Games?"
Brian took a deep breath and reclined against the glass case behind the counter. He’d just spent fifteen minutes explaining to a customer why they weren’t taking reserves for the holidays on the new games system due to be coming out. Before he could relax, someone walked in the store, but it was only Chris from the Orange Julius stand.
“Don’t hurt yourself getting to work, buddy.”
Brian laughed and waved at his friend. “There’s just only so many times I can repeat myself before I get irritated.”
Chris laughed in return, intrigued. “Oh really?” Chris mockingly put his elbows on the table and inched in close with a goofy smirk on his face. “Repeat yourself one more time, for my entertainment benefit!”
Brian rolled his eyes, and began to recall the incidents of the last holiday season. “Last year, when the 360 was coming out, we took over three hundred reservations. The problem? We were informed a week beforehand that we would only be receiving eight. Eight. EIGHT systems to give to THREE HUNDRED people.”
“Nothing like efficient inventory,” Chris added. “I imagine some people were angry.”
Brian’s eyes widened. “Angry would be the understatement of the century. We got death threats over people not getting their systems.”
“Are you serious?”
“I’m certainly not making it up for the attention.”
Chris snickered a little bit. He took off his orange hat, looked at it, and began to shake his head. “I wish some of the things that happened over at the stand were only in my head. I could probably make a million dollars telling some of these stories.”
“Trust me, Al and I have our share as well.”
“I know, I hear you discussing them frequently,” Chris replied. “I wonder if the same people you encounter come to my stand to recharge the batteries that have obviously been dead since the Reagan Administration.”
“Had any today?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact,” Chris continued. “I had someone ask if we sell hot dogs.”
Brian stared at Chris for a good thirty seconds. “You’re serious?”
“As you said a few minutes ago, I’m certainly not making it up for the attention.”
“But but…” Brian sputtered… “You work… At Orange freaking Julius!”
“I guess the sign isn’t clear enough,” Chris agreed. “I get asked on a regular basis for coffee, donuts, hot dogs, sandwiches… CURTAINS.”
“What is it with people looking for curtains?”
“You’ve had that too?”
“No,” Brian responded. “Al texted me earlier, saying someone was asking if they sold curtains.”
“And naturally, the most effective places to look for curtains are food stands and movie stores,” Chris snickered.
The phone rang, and Brian turned away. “Thank you for calling GameXPress, where you can buy and trade new and used games…” Brian’s face turned sour instantly, and Chris had to stop himself from laughing. “Yes, we trade games,” he replied dryly as he hung up the phone.
“Well, I gotta get back to work,” Chris announced. “See you guys on your lunch.”
As Chris was leaving, he noticed a teenaged-boy walking into the store. For some reason, Chris stopped to watch what he would ask Brian, if only to see the reaction on his face. “Can I reserve a PS3?”
“NO!”
…
Less than halfway through the day, and every time I heard a certain little clip approaching on the trailer disc, I yearned for a brick to throw. Off-key British kids singing “Hark, the Herald Angels sing.” Not only was it the extremely out-of-key children yelling/singing that was driving me insane, but also it was the fact that it was September. September. You know, three months away from the jolly red suit guy making everybody feel good about running to the mall and treating all the people there like crap just so they can buy buy BUY!
Last year was really a riot. I came into contact with some of the angriest, most belligerent people I’d ever met, and not thirty seconds after they got done yelling at me, because it was somehow my fault that they chose to shop on Black Friday at noon, they’d get into the argument about people saying “Merry Christmas” instead of “Happy Holidays.” Yes, the same people getting high strung about restoring the original meaning of Christmas, you know… Giving, being humble, respecting others, goodwill to their fellow man… Unless he happens to be in line in front of you when you’re shopping. Then, of course, immediately proceed to yell at the cashier, because it’s his fault!
It was always fun when the end of October would roll around, and so many people would be applying for seasonal jobs in the store. You could tell they’d never worked retail before, just from the smiles on their faces. But once it took them twenty minutes just to get inside the store on Black Friday, it was amazing if most of them even made it 'til Christmas. How did I make it through the past two? Simple… Observing people at their absolute worst somehow had a redeeming feeling to it.
“Excuse me, sir,” a female voice interrupted my thoughts.
“Yes, ma’am?”
“Do you work here?”
I hesitated, and resisted all urges to be a complete smart-ass. My shirt read “MovieXPress”. I had a nametag hanging from my neck, and that too said “MovieXPress.” Actually, it was supposed to. Given that I was asked this question in every store into which I ever walked in, I made my own handwritten nametag, which read, “if this is not MovieXPress, I do not work here.”
“Yes, I do,” I finally responded.
“Can you tell me where the VHS are?”
I was so sick of this question. “They don’t make them anymore,” I explained. “They fazed them out over a year ago.”
“Why?”
As if I was personally responsible for making the decision… It was me who signed the dotted line. “The same reason you can only find CDs and not cassette tapes in the music stores anymore. Times change, technology updates.”
“I think you’re losing part of your customer base by not selling them anymore.”
“Ma’am,” I could feel my tension rising a bit. “It’s not that we don’t sell them anymore. It’s that the companies who distribute the movies do not make them anymore. If there aren’t any being made, there aren’t any to sell.”
“Why can’t you do something about it?”
“Like what?” I was actually interested in hearing the response to this one.
“Tell the companies to start making them again.”
Yes, cause they’re going to listen to Alex from store 8923 in nowhere, Pennsylvania. I grabbed a piece of receipt paper and copied down Brian’s cell phone number. “I’ll tell you what,” I began. “This is the number to the guy who makes all the important decisions in the movie business. You give him a call and you tell him you want your video tapes back!”
“I’ll do that,” she replied. “And until you start selling them again, I won’t come back.”
When the woman was out of earshot, I turned to Caroline. “Was that supposed to be a threat?”
“She threatened you?”
“Nevermind.”
A customer walked into the store, and turned in Caroline’s direction. “Do you guys sell movies?”
Caroline froze, I’m assuming that it was out of not being sure if he was serious or not. I quickly stepped in. “No, sir… We sell rowboats. The movies are actually out on an island in the Susquehanna River, and we sell rowboat tokens so people can rent them, paddle out, and get to the place where they actually sell the movies.”
The customer looked me right in the eye, taking in everything I said. He then turned to Caroline. “Can I get a rowboat token?”
To keep from bursting out laughing, I decided it was time for my lunch break. The second I got out of the store, I nearly collapsed from laughing so hard. I saw Brian approaching, and he had the lightsaber in his hands again. And, for some reason, he was wearing a pair of glasses. “You either just ran the marathon, or you had another ‘special’ customer.”
“Very observant of you,” I responded.
“Thanks, these glasses are from Spectra.”
“They don’t have any lenses, Brian.”
“Shut up, they make me feel smart!”
“You just think that because that psychic convinced you that you live twenty seconds in the future!”
“See, I knew you were gonna say that!”
Thank God for lunchbreaks. Otherwise, I’d probably get fired for telling my boss these stories.
Help me get this read on the web... www.fictionpress.com/s/2231693/4/ scroll to the bottom of the page, at the bottom left, click the submit review button.
Brian took a deep breath and reclined against the glass case behind the counter. He’d just spent fifteen minutes explaining to a customer why they weren’t taking reserves for the holidays on the new games system due to be coming out. Before he could relax, someone walked in the store, but it was only Chris from the Orange Julius stand.
“Don’t hurt yourself getting to work, buddy.”
Brian laughed and waved at his friend. “There’s just only so many times I can repeat myself before I get irritated.”
Chris laughed in return, intrigued. “Oh really?” Chris mockingly put his elbows on the table and inched in close with a goofy smirk on his face. “Repeat yourself one more time, for my entertainment benefit!”
Brian rolled his eyes, and began to recall the incidents of the last holiday season. “Last year, when the 360 was coming out, we took over three hundred reservations. The problem? We were informed a week beforehand that we would only be receiving eight. Eight. EIGHT systems to give to THREE HUNDRED people.”
“Nothing like efficient inventory,” Chris added. “I imagine some people were angry.”
Brian’s eyes widened. “Angry would be the understatement of the century. We got death threats over people not getting their systems.”
“Are you serious?”
“I’m certainly not making it up for the attention.”
Chris snickered a little bit. He took off his orange hat, looked at it, and began to shake his head. “I wish some of the things that happened over at the stand were only in my head. I could probably make a million dollars telling some of these stories.”
“Trust me, Al and I have our share as well.”
“I know, I hear you discussing them frequently,” Chris replied. “I wonder if the same people you encounter come to my stand to recharge the batteries that have obviously been dead since the Reagan Administration.”
“Had any today?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact,” Chris continued. “I had someone ask if we sell hot dogs.”
Brian stared at Chris for a good thirty seconds. “You’re serious?”
“As you said a few minutes ago, I’m certainly not making it up for the attention.”
“But but…” Brian sputtered… “You work… At Orange freaking Julius!”
“I guess the sign isn’t clear enough,” Chris agreed. “I get asked on a regular basis for coffee, donuts, hot dogs, sandwiches… CURTAINS.”
“What is it with people looking for curtains?”
“You’ve had that too?”
“No,” Brian responded. “Al texted me earlier, saying someone was asking if they sold curtains.”
“And naturally, the most effective places to look for curtains are food stands and movie stores,” Chris snickered.
The phone rang, and Brian turned away. “Thank you for calling GameXPress, where you can buy and trade new and used games…” Brian’s face turned sour instantly, and Chris had to stop himself from laughing. “Yes, we trade games,” he replied dryly as he hung up the phone.
“Well, I gotta get back to work,” Chris announced. “See you guys on your lunch.”
As Chris was leaving, he noticed a teenaged-boy walking into the store. For some reason, Chris stopped to watch what he would ask Brian, if only to see the reaction on his face. “Can I reserve a PS3?”
“NO!”
…
Less than halfway through the day, and every time I heard a certain little clip approaching on the trailer disc, I yearned for a brick to throw. Off-key British kids singing “Hark, the Herald Angels sing.” Not only was it the extremely out-of-key children yelling/singing that was driving me insane, but also it was the fact that it was September. September. You know, three months away from the jolly red suit guy making everybody feel good about running to the mall and treating all the people there like crap just so they can buy buy BUY!
Last year was really a riot. I came into contact with some of the angriest, most belligerent people I’d ever met, and not thirty seconds after they got done yelling at me, because it was somehow my fault that they chose to shop on Black Friday at noon, they’d get into the argument about people saying “Merry Christmas” instead of “Happy Holidays.” Yes, the same people getting high strung about restoring the original meaning of Christmas, you know… Giving, being humble, respecting others, goodwill to their fellow man… Unless he happens to be in line in front of you when you’re shopping. Then, of course, immediately proceed to yell at the cashier, because it’s his fault!
It was always fun when the end of October would roll around, and so many people would be applying for seasonal jobs in the store. You could tell they’d never worked retail before, just from the smiles on their faces. But once it took them twenty minutes just to get inside the store on Black Friday, it was amazing if most of them even made it 'til Christmas. How did I make it through the past two? Simple… Observing people at their absolute worst somehow had a redeeming feeling to it.
“Excuse me, sir,” a female voice interrupted my thoughts.
“Yes, ma’am?”
“Do you work here?”
I hesitated, and resisted all urges to be a complete smart-ass. My shirt read “MovieXPress”. I had a nametag hanging from my neck, and that too said “MovieXPress.” Actually, it was supposed to. Given that I was asked this question in every store into which I ever walked in, I made my own handwritten nametag, which read, “if this is not MovieXPress, I do not work here.”
“Yes, I do,” I finally responded.
“Can you tell me where the VHS are?”
I was so sick of this question. “They don’t make them anymore,” I explained. “They fazed them out over a year ago.”
“Why?”
As if I was personally responsible for making the decision… It was me who signed the dotted line. “The same reason you can only find CDs and not cassette tapes in the music stores anymore. Times change, technology updates.”
“I think you’re losing part of your customer base by not selling them anymore.”
“Ma’am,” I could feel my tension rising a bit. “It’s not that we don’t sell them anymore. It’s that the companies who distribute the movies do not make them anymore. If there aren’t any being made, there aren’t any to sell.”
“Why can’t you do something about it?”
“Like what?” I was actually interested in hearing the response to this one.
“Tell the companies to start making them again.”
Yes, cause they’re going to listen to Alex from store 8923 in nowhere, Pennsylvania. I grabbed a piece of receipt paper and copied down Brian’s cell phone number. “I’ll tell you what,” I began. “This is the number to the guy who makes all the important decisions in the movie business. You give him a call and you tell him you want your video tapes back!”
“I’ll do that,” she replied. “And until you start selling them again, I won’t come back.”
When the woman was out of earshot, I turned to Caroline. “Was that supposed to be a threat?”
“She threatened you?”
“Nevermind.”
A customer walked into the store, and turned in Caroline’s direction. “Do you guys sell movies?”
Caroline froze, I’m assuming that it was out of not being sure if he was serious or not. I quickly stepped in. “No, sir… We sell rowboats. The movies are actually out on an island in the Susquehanna River, and we sell rowboat tokens so people can rent them, paddle out, and get to the place where they actually sell the movies.”
The customer looked me right in the eye, taking in everything I said. He then turned to Caroline. “Can I get a rowboat token?”
To keep from bursting out laughing, I decided it was time for my lunch break. The second I got out of the store, I nearly collapsed from laughing so hard. I saw Brian approaching, and he had the lightsaber in his hands again. And, for some reason, he was wearing a pair of glasses. “You either just ran the marathon, or you had another ‘special’ customer.”
“Very observant of you,” I responded.
“Thanks, these glasses are from Spectra.”
“They don’t have any lenses, Brian.”
“Shut up, they make me feel smart!”
“You just think that because that psychic convinced you that you live twenty seconds in the future!”
“See, I knew you were gonna say that!”
Thank God for lunchbreaks. Otherwise, I’d probably get fired for telling my boss these stories.
Help me get this read on the web... www.fictionpress.com/s/2231693/4/ scroll to the bottom of the page, at the bottom left, click the submit review button.