This week I finally decided to purchase a little red rock. I had saved up sufficient pennies and located the exact item at the Big Box website. I even called the store itself to ensure the red rock I had in mind was available. All good. Go for launch.
What do you think happened?
In the red rock aisle I found box after box of sparkly rocks and battery operated rocks and rocks with all manner of attachments. None of which I desired or intended to pay for. When I finally located a Big Box employee she suggested I try the low tech red rock aisle. So I did.
What do you think happened?
No red rocks at all. Stretchy rocks. Bendy rocks. Rocks with extra long handles. But nary a plain red rock. Ah, well. I chalked it up on the ever growing list of disappointed shopping experiences and went to the grocery departments.
Waited several days. Armed with a bit more patience and a view of the actual website listing of the desired red rock I phoned the store again. Spoke to the red rock department manager. She said: "We have it on the shelf. I am looking at it." I jokingly requested that she save it for me. Could she put it at the service desk? No. Hide it behind some other rock containers? No. Okey Dokey. I saddled up for another trek.
What do you think happened?
In the red rock aisle. Same snazzy rocks as before. Not the rock I was promised. Shanghaied a Big Box employee (a man this time) told him my tale of woe and he ASSURED me he would personally place the red rock in my hands. Back to the same aisle where he proudly lifts one of the battery operated rocks and turns to me, "There you go!"
After I explained yet again that I did not want THAT rock, after I described the rock I was ASSURED was in stock, and after I restrained myself from ripping out his larynx; I listened in astonishment while he explained that they could not order the rock I hoped for unless they already had the actual rock.
What do you think happened?
I leaped over the scooter basket and pummeled the guy and his sparkly rock into a bloody pulp and left him to die on the floor. Well, not really. But I did choose my words VERY carefully. "You are the Big Box for god's sake! You are the KINGS of the department store world! If you can't sell me a simple red rock then you are a bunch of goddam fakes who should be ashamed of yourselves!" Then I spun around in the electric cart and drove away.
This is my vow: I WILL find and purchase the red rock in question. Then I will bash in the head of each Big Box employee in my path who made this transaction so goddam ridiculously complicated.
What do you think happened?
In the red rock aisle I found box after box of sparkly rocks and battery operated rocks and rocks with all manner of attachments. None of which I desired or intended to pay for. When I finally located a Big Box employee she suggested I try the low tech red rock aisle. So I did.
What do you think happened?
No red rocks at all. Stretchy rocks. Bendy rocks. Rocks with extra long handles. But nary a plain red rock. Ah, well. I chalked it up on the ever growing list of disappointed shopping experiences and went to the grocery departments.
Waited several days. Armed with a bit more patience and a view of the actual website listing of the desired red rock I phoned the store again. Spoke to the red rock department manager. She said: "We have it on the shelf. I am looking at it." I jokingly requested that she save it for me. Could she put it at the service desk? No. Hide it behind some other rock containers? No. Okey Dokey. I saddled up for another trek.
What do you think happened?
In the red rock aisle. Same snazzy rocks as before. Not the rock I was promised. Shanghaied a Big Box employee (a man this time) told him my tale of woe and he ASSURED me he would personally place the red rock in my hands. Back to the same aisle where he proudly lifts one of the battery operated rocks and turns to me, "There you go!"
After I explained yet again that I did not want THAT rock, after I described the rock I was ASSURED was in stock, and after I restrained myself from ripping out his larynx; I listened in astonishment while he explained that they could not order the rock I hoped for unless they already had the actual rock.
What do you think happened?
I leaped over the scooter basket and pummeled the guy and his sparkly rock into a bloody pulp and left him to die on the floor. Well, not really. But I did choose my words VERY carefully. "You are the Big Box for god's sake! You are the KINGS of the department store world! If you can't sell me a simple red rock then you are a bunch of goddam fakes who should be ashamed of yourselves!" Then I spun around in the electric cart and drove away.
This is my vow: I WILL find and purchase the red rock in question. Then I will bash in the head of each Big Box employee in my path who made this transaction so goddam ridiculously complicated.
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