This is functioning as a bi-annual, semi-regular, entirely made-up humor column, written and directed by Christopher Saint (which is not, in fact, my real name. If you don't like the fact that I use an alias, you may bite me.)

Tuesday, December 23, 2003

Picture the following scene:

I am at work, which is the retail giant, Best Buy. I work in the back, in inventory. Someone calls inventory and asks us to bring a 51 inch plasma TV to the front door for a customer.

This is an undertaking similar to climbing Mt. Everest...without oxygen. I am 5'8" (on good days) and I weigh 140 pounds (also on good days). The TV is a malevolent entity specifically designed to be as big and awkward as possible. It weighs nearly twice what I do, and it's at least three times my size.

So, with the help of another inventory worker, I put the TV on a hand-truck (one of those little two-wheeled deals that movers always use) and begin the trek up Mt. Everest. Actually, the first 20 feet or so are easy, and things look promising, but as soon as I turn the corner and come out from behind our "wall-o-fridges" in the appliance section, all hope leaves me. For there, not 20 more feet away, are the teeming masses.

What is especially unfortunate is that these particular teeming masses are made up of consumers. Ravening, drool-spewing, craven beasts who will do anything to get the lowest price on an item and who become manically excited at the word 'sale'. Sometimes though, the consumers are children, and their job is to make their parent consumers even more desperate and ravening through the use of the 'whine technique'.

This is when the child consumer whines at such a high pitch that it drives the parent consumer into a buying frenzy just to make the pain stop. The parent consumer is full of anger at the pain, and at the fact that they can feel their wallet shrinking, and they take their anger out on the nearest helpless individual: ie, an employee.

Now, I am usually immune to the anger because I am carrying a huge freaking TV. But I do face danger of another kind. Well, of many kinds actually.

The least annoying of the dangers I face is the Random Walking Consumer. This consumer is merely trying to get from Item A to Item B, and their path crosses mine, often with results similar to that of a black cat crossing your path. Ie, I come to a screeching halt, and possibly take out some display of expensive stuff. Fortunately, the damage is minimal, and I am able to continue on.

But suddenly, I face danger number two! A child consumer darts into my path, carrying about 500 dollars worth of electronic equipment. Once again, I come to a screeching halt, nearly breaking my back trying to hold back the 280 pounds of raging TV. The child looks up innocently at my struggles. I snarl at it. It runs to mommy, whining. Mommy buys it 500 dollars worth of electronic equipment, including, but not limited to: a radar detector, a palm pilot, a cell phone, a Buzz The Robot Smart Child Spelling Apparatus, and a pack of 200 rewriteable CDs.

The parent storms up to me, in a rage at what happened, and shouts: "Next time, just run the kid over!!"

But, bravely, I keep going. And suddenly, I am confronted by yet another danger: the Slow-Walking Oblivious Consumer. This is a consumer who is in my personal way, and who has their back to me, and who is walking at the pace of badly injured snail. They are also apparently engrossed in trying to find something, so that they can't feel my hot breath on the back of their neck. I hollar, "Excuse me!!" at a volume that makes everyone turn and look.

So, I continue on, and then, suddenly, the second worst danger. This, just so you know, annoys the heck out of me. I call this one the "Deer In The Headlights." Basically, what happens is that I am coming down a long, fairly empty aisle, nearly to the final stretch, and there, in front of me, is a single, over-large consumer. Said consumer stands, in the middle of the aisle, right at a crossing, so that they could simply take a step to the left or the right and be out of the way. But instead, they just stand there, watching me come. The TV is behind me, but it's towering above my head by at least 2 feet, not to mention still being wider than my body. Couple this with the fact that I am sweating and obviously having trouble dragging the bloody thing along, and it's pretty obvious what I'm doing.

Not to this consumer though. They stand there and watch me come. What is running through their heads I can only guess at: perhaps, "He's going to turn at the last second, I know it! Despite the fact that that thing he's dragging has the maneuverability of a freight train with no wheels." or maybe, "He's not really coming, it's just a mirage." and possibly, "Ooo, pretty colors."

Either way, I have to come within two feet of this consumer and say "Excuse me!" at a high volume before they get a clue and move, with a look of slighted anger, such as: "How dare that impudent little wretch ask me to move my massive butt out of the way when he could have easily lifted that 280 pound TV over my head?"

And, nearly to the door, the worst danger ever. Despite the fact that I am obviously travailing here, I am actually approached by a consumer and ASKED A QUESTION. Like, "Excuse me, can you tell me where the computers are?" This forces me to stop entirely, often nearly toppling the TV (which would break), and address the question. "Under the HUGE FREAKING SIGN THAT SAYS BLOODY COMPUTERS!!!!!!!!" No, I'm very polite, in a strained sort of way.

But finally, all the danger surmounted, I make it to the door. Now all I have to do is put the TV in someone's vehicle for them. Sometimes, this will be a little old lady (or worse, someone less cute and endearing, such as an angry redneck lady with hair issues) with a car that is only slightly bigger, total, than the TV. And of course, they will then proceed to ask questions like: "Do you think that will fit in the trunk? Can we at least try?"

"NO"

"HECK NO"

"As much as I hate to be a wet blanket, this TV wouldn't fit in your car if we removed all internal car parts, and the roof, and the doors, and the engine."

But the consumer manages to misunderstand.
"Well can we at least TRY to stick it on the back seat?"

Anyway, that happens (to varying degrees, most of the people actually have cars that will fit the TV they order) at least 5-10 times per day. What joyous fun!

So, send your donations to me, FalcontheHunter@netscape.net. We accept credit cards.
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