I am sick of customer service.
I am sick of people being paid to help me. I can't take much more of it -- particularly at Best Buy.
Best Buy, with its cheaper CDs, has nearly eliminated the mom-and-pop record shop, and I'm fine with that.
The dark side to this cheap alternative, however, is that the customer service has been sterilized and prepackaged. Drones in blue shirts hover over the aisles like Gestapo. They make sure that you, the customer, will mathematically be ensured the best-possible chance of being satisfied.
When I walk into a Best Buy, I am immediately greeted by the "Gate Keeper." He is disguised as a greeter who wants to welcome me into the store. I realize, however, that he is there to size up anybody who walks in the store and watch for shoplifted items upon the customer's exit. I know he is watching me as a potential suspect.
He says, "How you doin' today?" and I know he couldn't care less. I rush by, avoid eye contact and mutter a "Nuthin' much." Get away from me, gate keeper.
Before I ever encounter merchandise, I must first cross the customer-service desk. Three deskworkers eyeball me. Why? They are anticipating that I might have an item return or perhaps a question for them. They smile their $7.25-an-hour smiles in an attempt to welcome me to their desk. I've now had four people I've never met pay attention to me, and I haven't even seen the new-releases shelf yet.
Finally, I arrive at the new-DVD-release section. The aisle is just wide enough for 1.5 people. How convenient that a blue drone is on patrol. Before my retinas register the new releases, he utters my single most-hated phrase in the universe (except, "Holla back."): "Can I help you find anything today?"
No. No you can't. I know what I want. I just need a few minutes to look for it, or maybe I just want to browse the shelf. Either way, I wish to take my time in your store. If I was in a hurry to get out, I would have sought your help. Do not rush me.
I scurry away to look at music. More blue drones. They silently judge me as I pick up an album to look at its art. They are evaluating and condemning me as a person on the basis of one mere curiosity. Perhaps they think they now have something in common with me, but they do not. Regardless, they ask the same dreaded line: "Can I help you?" and this time I detonate into subparticles.
These men, these monsters who supposedly wish to "help me" during their eight-hour shifts, are compelling me to speak to strangers. I don't want to speak to strangers unless I absolutely must. My mother taught me not to speak to strangers.
So here is what I say to you employees of Best Buy: Go stand in a corner. Huddle together at some kind of easy-to-find locale, and then, when I need your help, I will know where help can be found. Don't ask me; I'll ask you.
And have a nice day.
Write to "Mouse" at bbmcshane@bsu.edu
visit www.classicalgeektheatre.com
Read More
Three Air Jam teams take home the win
October 12, 2012Nineteen teams shimmied, shook and flipped for a sold out John R. Emens Auditorium on Thursday night during the 25th annual Air Jam.
Bill Clinton Speaks at North Central High School
October 12, 2012Former President's Speech Could Have Effect on State Senate Race
