Tuesday, July 27, 2004
BARNES AND NOBLE EATS MY LUNCH, PART 2
I had to pick up A Light In the Attic for a gift. The only copy available was an anniversary edition, with a bonus cd of Shel Silverstein reading a few poems. This bumped the price up to $22. I swallowed hard and took it to the counter.
The clerk picked up the book opened it, closed it, reopened it, paged through it, then finally came to the cd, which was attached to the back board.
I though she was being overly conscientious, checking to be sure the cd was there before ringing up the sale. I was wrong. The clerk wanted to give me a lecture.
She look at me. She tapped the cd with a fingernail. "If you come to return this book, this cd must be included." She tapped it again, harder this time. "Do you understand?" she asked.
"I hadn't planned on returning the book," I said. "I'm buying it because I want it."
"Nonetheless," she said, "if this cd is not in this jacket, the return will not be accepted." She tapped it once more, for emphasis, and as she did, I could swear I could see a hairline crack spreading across the cd from under her fingernail. She quickly snapped the book shut and rang up my purchase.
I took the bag, opened the book, and inspected the cd. As I thought, it was cracked in two.
The clerk was ringing up the next customer. "Excuse me," I said. "I'd like to return this book."
"Why is that?" the clerk said. "You just bought it." She rolled her eyes for the benefit of the customers waiting in line. A few of the them looked exasperated. I was obviously some kind of nut, holding everyone up.
"The cd is defective," I said.
"It can't be defective, it's in a protective jacket," she said.
"I don't think they work, if they're broken in two," I said.
She inspected the cd.
"I believe you broke it," I said. "I don't think you are supposed to bang on them with fingernails."
"I'll have to get you another," she said.
"Please do," I said. "And no need to apologize."
While I was waiting I walked over to the customer service kiosk.
"Excuse me," I said. "Do you have any books by David Rees?"
"I'd have to look that up," the girl said.
"Could you?" I asked.
She fussed with the computer for a second, then looked up. "We have one book by Dan Reeves," she said. "His autobiography. I hear it's very inspirational. Would you be interested in that?"
I spotted my aggresive clerk striding back to the checkout counter.
"I'll have to get back to you," I told the customer service girl.
I caught up to the clerk just as she slammed the new copy down on the counter in front of me.
I checked to make sure the cd was intact. "This one looks OK," I said. "Have a nice day.''
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I had to pick up A Light In the Attic for a gift. The only copy available was an anniversary edition, with a bonus cd of Shel Silverstein reading a few poems. This bumped the price up to $22. I swallowed hard and took it to the counter.
The clerk picked up the book opened it, closed it, reopened it, paged through it, then finally came to the cd, which was attached to the back board.
I though she was being overly conscientious, checking to be sure the cd was there before ringing up the sale. I was wrong. The clerk wanted to give me a lecture.
She look at me. She tapped the cd with a fingernail. "If you come to return this book, this cd must be included." She tapped it again, harder this time. "Do you understand?" she asked.
"I hadn't planned on returning the book," I said. "I'm buying it because I want it."
"Nonetheless," she said, "if this cd is not in this jacket, the return will not be accepted." She tapped it once more, for emphasis, and as she did, I could swear I could see a hairline crack spreading across the cd from under her fingernail. She quickly snapped the book shut and rang up my purchase.
I took the bag, opened the book, and inspected the cd. As I thought, it was cracked in two.
The clerk was ringing up the next customer. "Excuse me," I said. "I'd like to return this book."
"Why is that?" the clerk said. "You just bought it." She rolled her eyes for the benefit of the customers waiting in line. A few of the them looked exasperated. I was obviously some kind of nut, holding everyone up.
"The cd is defective," I said.
"It can't be defective, it's in a protective jacket," she said.
"I don't think they work, if they're broken in two," I said.
She inspected the cd.
"I believe you broke it," I said. "I don't think you are supposed to bang on them with fingernails."
"I'll have to get you another," she said.
"Please do," I said. "And no need to apologize."
While I was waiting I walked over to the customer service kiosk.
"Excuse me," I said. "Do you have any books by David Rees?"
"I'd have to look that up," the girl said.
"Could you?" I asked.
She fussed with the computer for a second, then looked up. "We have one book by Dan Reeves," she said. "His autobiography. I hear it's very inspirational. Would you be interested in that?"
I spotted my aggresive clerk striding back to the checkout counter.
"I'll have to get back to you," I told the customer service girl.
I caught up to the clerk just as she slammed the new copy down on the counter in front of me.
I checked to make sure the cd was intact. "This one looks OK," I said. "Have a nice day.''
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