morgankelsey.com

I found myself at my local electronics box store again. Well -- I didn't find myself there, I drove there. My intent was to purchase an external hard drive to backup my super-important stuff. I found what I was looking for, and was resigned to simply purchasing it when I felt a pang of responsibility.

I turned to my son and said, "we should go to the other electronics box store and see how much this costs there."

He frowned. At seven, the poor lad is already far too sophisticated for shopping.

"Why don't you just buy that one?" he asked.

"Because it might be a few dollars cheaper at the other place."

He opened his mouth, but I cut him off: "I've already calculated the gas consumption; the risk is acceptable."

I could see the anguish on his face, and I completely understand where's he coming from. I too, have to summon courage to enter one of these stores. First you have to pass the outdoor employees (the ones who are on break) who glare at you, use foul language, posture and pose like like a chain gang, whatever. They can't help it. It is as if the shackles of their job are opened for a few minutes so they run around the parking lot like chimpanzees just released from a cargo hold. I haven't seen them throw poo, but I know if there was some on the ground nearby that it would be flying.

Then you enter the store through the customary glass foyer and into the main store where there is a very different employee than the ones you just encountered outside. This one is smiling at you, "greeting" you, looks ready to answer any question you may have, and would even just sit down to talk if you've got a heavy burden. BUT IT'S WEARING THE SAME UNIFORM AS THE ONES OUTSIDE!

So, coupled with the fact that the glass foyer thing has deposited you 8 feet deeper into the store than you expect (which they do to make the store look bigger) it's a very mentally disturbing experience. The "greeter" is a phenom that is really beyond my comprehension. I want to get away from those folks ASAP, which could be the point of them I guess. I always wonder how the interview for the "greeter" goes. What do they ask this person?

We Now Return to our Regularly Scheduled Program

Anyway, back to the external hard drive aisle.

"Wait Dad," said Son, "why don't we just use one of these computers to check the price?"

What a grand idea this was! We loped over to the laptop area and proceeded to fire up the browser. I got to the competitor's store, and was pulling up the price info on the model I was going to buy when "sales guy" came over. Not to diverge from the story line, but I don't want to talk to this guy because I've already met several other creatures in the uniform he is sporting (see above) and am just not interested at all in spending any time with this species.

"Can I help you folks?" he asked, not having looked at the screen yet.

"Nope," say I, "we're almost all set."

My son is trying to merge himself with my leg, his eyes have gone lemur, he's staring up at sales guy, and he's ready for action.

Sales guy looks at the screen. I don't see him do this, but I can sense it. We are officially "off book" as they say in the theater business. This isn't in the script, I'm not behaving like I'm supposed to, yet there really isn't anything wrong with what I'm doing.

"Uhhh..." he says.

"What?" I ask, still not looking at him.

"You guys are..." he says and trails off.

"We are all set," I say as I hit alt+esc to close the window instantly.

Unfortunately, the price at the store we were in was better, so we bought it. I wonder how it would have gone if the other place was cheaper. Would they really "sell me", and give it to me for less than the competitor?

We paid and left quickly. I won't go into how difficult it is for me to hand the "cashier" my credit card, because "cashier" is wearing the same uniform as the freedom apes, the greeter, and sales guy.

You then have to go by the bouncer, and show him your receipt, so he can check your bag, because if you run through the theft detection devices into the glass foyer, you can probably drag one of those giant gumball machines down and slow him up. So they have multiple factor authentication of your purchase on the way out. They probably only need a bullhorn to call the freedom apes lurking around outside. They may loath their job, but I am sure they would really enjoy tackling a balding 30 something guy like me and grind my chin into the asphalt.

We get in the car and my son asks, "Dad, was that guy mad that we used his computer like that?"

I thought for a minute. Moments like these are critical in human development, and I'm always scared I'm going to scar my children forever.

"First of all," I said, "it's not his computer, it's the company's computer. They have them out for us to try, right? So we tried it!"

He looked a little puzzled so I added, "Buddy, you had a great idea in there. Don't ever not act on an idea because of people wearing uniforms, unless you are in jail."

He nodded and flipped open his Nintendo.