I Hate Bad Service!
No, I'm not talking about oral sex. Obviously, any old hummer will do. But I can't stand it when you walk into a business establishment on good faith and are greeted with braindead help that hinders any commerce from happening instead of encouraging it. As the ineptitude creeps over your intended transaction, you realize that one more nail has been driven into the economy's coffin and we might not recover from it, let alone get your home appliance to work.
To wit: I just waltzed into a Radio Shack to get a new battery for my cordless phone. I figured this would be a two-minute visit and then I could go on with some more productive parts of my day, like picking lint out of my navel. But the girl took down the information about the battery I needed and proceeded to look it up in the computer--for days! For all I know, she was playing a video game or watching the Lord of the Rings trilogy, because TONS of time was passing by and, as I got older and more withered, she wasn't emitting a peep. There was no "Let me keep looking" or "I'm trying to find it" or anything to assure me that attempts at progress were being made. Just silent clicking and staring, sort of like a horse would do just before falling through the trap door into the glue factory.
Finally, as I prepared for retirement, the person deigned to speak. "Here it is," she said, pointing to the screen in a deadly monotone. "This is the closest one to what you want." "Oh, goody!" I shrieked. "So it's compatible?" "Yes," she droned after a seven-second pause. Yay! I could finally just get the friggin thing and move on with my life. "OK, I'll take one," I whinnied, sweating rivers of relief. "We don't have it," she deadpanned.
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