Light At The End Of The Techie Tunnel

I gave up trying to work with the electronics industry many moons ago.  Techies and their minions all think they’re medieval village priests with a direct line to the One True God — and they’re insufferable because of it.  However, recently I discovered there’s a light at the end of the tunnel.  Some of the folks might be real people, after all.

Let me explain:

I was killing some time and went into an electronics store to try and find a set of labels to identify which cord fits what in the ever-expanding octopus that now accompanies my technological life.  FYI (and you know this) every digital device on this planet comes with a cord (cords?) They’re all black, they’re all tangled, each of them fits only one thing, and they’re everywhere.  Anyway, I found what I was looking for — 10 sticky labels for a reasonable $9.95 — and went to pay.  This is not the actual conversation.  I’ve shortened it and taken out most of the swearing, but the conclusion is verbatim.

Perky Clerk:  Good Afternoon.

Me:  Hiya.  Just this. (places item on the counter and fumbles in pockets)

Perky Clerk:  Do you have our Rewards Card?

Me:  Nah, I’m from across town.  (pushes the item closer to the cashier)

PC:  Would you like to get one of our Rewards Card, today?  It’s free and you get a 20% discount on today’s purchase and 10% off any future purchases to a maximum of $1,000.00 a year.  Plus, you get …

Me:  No, I’m good.

PC:  For example (Perky Clerk picks up item and scans it — N.B. all the sales information is now in the system) you’d save $2.00 plus tax.

Me:  No, like I say, I’m from across town. I’d never use it.

PC:  Our Rewards Cards are good at over 200 locations all across the country.

Me:  I’m sure it’s a great deal, but really– no thanks.

PC:  Alright. (Perky Clerk looks at me as if I were the Village Idiot’s half- witted brother)  It’s up to you.

Me:  (various grunts and shrugs)

PC:  Could I have your email address?

Me:  What?  No, I don’t want the card.  It’s just this. (pushes item at perky clerk)

PC:  That’s fine, sir. This is for our warranty.

Me:  Warranty?

PC:  All our merchandise comes with “Our Personal Guarantee” 90 day warranty or you can purchase an extended warranty for 1, 3, or 5 years.

Me:  These are paper labels with glue at one end!  What kind of a warranty am I’m going to need?  No, I don’t want the warranty. (pulls money out of pocket)

PC:  All our merchandise comes with “Our Personal Guarantee” 90 day warranty, sir.  (Perky Clerk gives me the “Why are you being such an asshole?” look.)

Me:  (lays the money on the counter)  I don’t care.  Here’s the labels; here’s my money.  You don’t need my email address.

PC:  (still perky)  I’m sorry sir, but I can’t do the transaction without your email address.

Me:  Yes, you can.  I saw you.  You scanned it just a minute ago.

PC:  That was a price check, sir.  The system won’t recognize a sale without an email address.

Me:  I’m not giving you my email address.  All you’re going to do is clutter up my computer with a bunch of sales crap I don’t want. (unruly muttering behind me)

PC:  You can go to our website and decline our promotional offers at any time, sir.

Me:  I don’t want to go to your web site.  I don’t want your Rewards Card.  I don’t want your warranty.  In fact, I don’t want any of this bullshit.  I just want to buy some labels and get the hell out of here. (straightening up defiantly while unruly muttering behind me gets louder)

Perky Clerk:  Sir, may I suggest you quit being a douche and just give me a fake address so I can get on with my job.

Me:  Oh — uh — right.  Boy, do I ever feel stupid.

Perky Clerk:  No worries.  We get that a lot here.