For almost a week, I've been looking at Future Shop's website (Best Buy for my American friends) for a store to stock up on headphones that are on sale - I need some because I want to listen to my Ipod on my way to work and to warm my ears in winter.
Turns out this morning, the site said there was stock - at the downtown Montréal location. So I go, at 10AM - I really want those fucking things. I didn't put my second foot inside the store that I was already getting raped by four hyper-caffeinated apes dressed in read who insisted on helping me. I say ''I'm just looking, thanks'' to at least give them time to slip condoms on, and head for the headphones section.
The pair I'm looking for, of course, is nowhere to be found. That's when another over-perfumed greasy-haired Laval resident jumps on me and offers his help, and I tell him I'm looking for the yellow Sony headphones that are on sale on their website.
- Yellow? Sony? No, man, I don't have that...
- Not even in the back store?
- We don't have a back store, all we have is on the floor, that's how we operate.
- The website says you have it in stock.
- Yeah, that happens. It means it's somewhere in the store, but we may have misplaced it.
- And you don't know where they are?
- No, man, like I said, I've never even seen those.
- Then what the fuck is your use? What do you do, here, exactly? Once you land on someone's back and they accept to be helped by you, has it ever happened, just once, that you gave the customer what he needed? How does it work, your job?
- Well, sometimes it's right in front of their eyes and I get to show them, and I get commission.
Now I know where all the retards work. And shop.
If this is how we'll Shop, in the Future, I can make one prediction right now: capitalism is even more doomed than I thought.
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