Friday Guest Mock: The Cell Phone Store
This weekly installment of our Guest Mock series is being handled by our pal bigbearinOH. Who, I assume, is not actually a bear. I should probably apologize for the accompanying picture. See, I was thinking about bigbearinOH’s handle, which made me think about that picture of bears riding p0nies, which made me think about improbable animals riding other animals. Of course, I then started looking at weird pictures on the internet, which unavoidably led to me posting a picture of a Japanese woman talking into a teddy bear’s crotch. So anyway, sorry about that.
And now for the cruel, cruel mockery….
In this installment, we’re headed to another hotbed of mockable activity, the cell phone store! Every time I am in one of these places, it seems like there’s somebody strolling in just waiting to be mocked, so on with the fun. First we have the super-mom, with her entire brood of failures-in-the-making. This lady comes in and always seems to be in the world’s biggest rush, and can’t ever seem to control her kids. Most of them have some form of dental issue, and seemingly touch every single piece of exposed material, covering it in a sticky secretion from their tiny hicklet item grabbers. Count on a store in shambles after this one.
The second wonderful clients in this place are foreigners who think they know everything about everything. Using phrases like “In my country” and “In America, you do not know about” they attempt to show their technological superiority to everyone else, all the while smelling like something that crawled out of a dumpster behind the nearest strip mall. Be awed by the fact that they feel technologically superior, but still feel the urge to try to haggle for anything and everything. I feel bad for the poor guy behind the counter, trying to explain that “This IS the price, and there is no discount on that”.
The third set of annoyingly mockable people are the technologically retarded. You do not need a blackberry if you can’t operate a flip phone. No, rotary dialing is not an available option, and yes, you can send text messages. There’s a book that comes with every phone, and you don’t need to ask thirty thousand questions about every single phone in here, we all know you’re going to get the free flip phone. Stop wasting their time, my time and everyone’s oxygen.
Finally we come to old people. I know it’s going to be a long wait to pay my bill or fix my iphone when I see the entire parking lot filled with Buick Park Avenues and a sea of white hair in the store. I can probably answer most of these questions right now, and I don’t even work there: No, they don’t sell cordless phones; Yes, the phones have speed dial; and no, this phone isn’t broken, hit the power button and turn the thing on. And for pity’s sake, don’t bring in every single accessory you have, they don’t take trade in’s. This isn’t a car lot.
That’s just the first 20 minutes, I’m sure you can find more than this at your local store!
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I’m pretty sure you get a Platinum Buick Park Avenue with your first Social Security check.
I’m wiping the tears from my eyes, excellent mock.
You can’t forget the people who have phones in someone else’s name, who spend a solid hour arguing with the phone jockeys trying to change something on the account or upgrade their phone. Despite the fact that said phone jockey has calmly explained three dozen times that the account holder must be present…
And then there’s the “sign-in” kiosk… Am I getting on a flight? Is this a delicatessen? I get to stand around and harrumph while the aforementioned no-credit, no-account asshole runs up to the counter screaming about “her” phone, dragging her nine whimpering sticky children around before setting them off like a nuclear annoyance bomb because she’s mo impo’tent than the folks waiting in line…I’m getting ranty here…
Other than those omissions…spot on, Bigbear. If it weren’t for the fact that I actually need to hold a phone before I purchase it, I would rather shoot myself and others than set foot in one of these stores.
I love when the Foreign Nationals try to barter. I will trade you 3 goats for the car charger. Bitches! That is not how it works in this country. Thank-you-come-again!
I love the “greeter” who comes in and tells you welcome with her little clipboard in hand, takes your name, then leaves you standing. You stand around for hours in the chairless waiting area while the techs are “busy with other customers” until you are shifting your weight from foot to foot like an elephant tethered to the wall at the zoo. Only after you buckle and try to perch half your butt cheek on the windowsill will they call your name.
I also like the folks that come in and try to get their service turned back on by paying $20.00 of a $500.00 cell bill.