April1998 target audience by Steve Hawley |
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You Have Questions, Our Other Customers Have Answers
So I am in a discount electronics store. I'm not sure what the
legal ramifications are, but lets just call it Chez Radio for the
time being. This particular store is one in an endless chain that
spans this country. Having patronized many Chez Radio locations
in many states. I have also seen it change from an electronic
hobbyist store (too niche) to a sort-of cut rate consumer
electronics store. I consider this a bad thing, but if life
demands so, I'll go other places for my toys.
Let me pause to give some background details on myself. I am a
geek. I freely admit that. I'm certainly above average as far
as usage of synaptic connections, but I'm not stellar. I have only
a small understanding of electronics and I learned that in 4th
grade: hook a battery up to a light bulb, the light bulb lights.
If you put a switch in the betweeen them, you can turn the light
on or off at will. My experience goes hardly further. Sure, I
know roughly how to use a volt meter, soldering iron, and so on.
Sure, I've etched my own circuit boards, but it's not all that
different, really.
I also have no respect for appliances or consumer electronics.
I've taken apart most every one I've owned just to see how it
works. Sometimes I've fixed simple problems, other times not.
I have no respect for computers. I don't wear a ground strap
when I install or remove hardware. I once "fixed" a hang
on a computer by taking a wire and touching it to the power supply
case (ground) and running it along all the pins on one side
of the CPU chip until it tripped the reset pin (I couldn't
remember which pin it was, sue me).
To me it isn't rocket science because it doesn't differ much
from hooking up a light bulb to a battery.
I entered Chez Radio to buy a cheap receiver and a pair of
speakers for my office. Much as I like my
A closeout sale was in full swing, so I picked an appropriately
inexpensive combination of tuner and speakers, and cornering the
sales woman and said, "I'd like one of these please and I would
also..." "Hang on, I can only do one at a time," she replied
brusquely as heading into the back to get it. Returning,
she told me that they were out. I've been in this position
before, so I just pointed at the one on the shelf and said, "sell
me that one right there." "OK, let me go get the box and manual."
She disappeared again and reappeared with nothing. She looked
distraught and honestly remorseful. I told her that I didn't need
a box, and I haven't read a manual for a stereo in about 15 years
except for amusement. Hooking up a tuner to speakers and an antenna
is no different than hooking up a light bulb to a battery. I
was neither disappointed nor worried.
She really wanted to get me a box at least. "No, really", I said,
"you can just put it in a..." Cut off again as she vanished into
the stygian depths of Chez Radio's stock room.
Now that she had a box for the tuner, she turned around to get
the speakers.
Whatever. Off she went, making five trips when one would've done.
I'll spare you the details of them accepting my check, but let's
just say it was much more painful than it needed to be for the
amount I was paying.
"Would you like the extended warranty?" No thank you. "Are you sure?
It will give you free service or replacement for up to 2 years
beyond the original warranty..." I was about to launch into my
lecture about solid-state electronics and crib death, but I
thought better of it. I had sympathy for this young woman. Her
job is not one which leaps to mind when you say, "ideal" or "dream"
in the context of employment. In fact, it doesn't really leap to
mind with those words in any context except maybe "torture" or
"boredom". I was honestly trying to make her job easier, so there
was no reason to for me to blather on about how solid state
electronics, if they don't die in the first 100 hours, will
probably never die in normal use.
Waiting for the paperwork, there was a customer beside me who
was returning a printer cable. "No wonder," I remarked to myself.
Somebody sold her a parallel printer cable for a Macintosh printer.
No Mac I know of has had a parallel port. There was another
sales droid trying to help her and it was a disaster in the
making. I've seen this droid in action before, and to be
polite, think of him as the kid you knew in second grade who
ate paste, crayons, Playdoh and earwax, usually all at the same
time.
He was floundering and she didn't know the right dialect to
explain what she needed. I stepped in. I had to. I mean,
there had to be a reason why my personal sales assistant did
at least four things to prevent my purchase from happening in
an expedient manner, and here it was: I was destined to help
this woman.
I nosed in, "you're hooking this up to a Mac right?" She had
been saying "PowerPC" and the salesdroid only heard "PC" and
assumed it was not a Macintosh. He said, "Oh, we can't help
you. We don't do Mac." She looked deflated. After a little
more interrogation, I discovered what she really needed was
a power supply for the printer, which was a gift, and no wonder,
because she couldn't plug it in.
I took out a pen, borrowed a sheet of paper and wrote two
carefully phrased sentences on it and numbered them. I told
her to go to a specific other chain of stores which I won't
list, but suffice it to say that it wasn't Fry's, then I
told her that she should ask specifically for number 1, and
if they don't have it, ask for number 2 which will do just
as well.
I turned back to my sales assisant who was agape. From her
point of view, I must have just walked across a lake. For
a reason I can't comprehend, she insisted that I accept a
"Cartoon Network, Sprint, Chez Radio Prepaid Calling Card."
I tried to refuse, but she was adamant.
I left Chez Radio shaking my head, like I usually do, except
this time I was smiling. To the sales droid, I was an elite
member of the digerati with mystical knowledge of How Things
Work, but to me, I'm just a guy who knows how to hook up
batteries to light bulbs, and after all, the woman with the
printer just wanted to hook a funny looking light bulb up
to a funny looking battery.
in the junk drawer:
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