Music department shenanigans

Hello.

It was an interesting day at work yesterday, not least of which because one of the "Head Honchos" in our region came to investigate the store. This meant a number of things: my boss's boss was in the store, so she was tied up for most of the day and little things (like authorization to log into the computer) went unnoticed for upwards of two hours. This also meant that every time he would walk into the music department (where I was working), I had to drop whatever I was doing and talk to him. Here's how our conversations would usually go:

Me: "Hi."
Him: "Hello. What do you think of the classical music sale we're having?"
Me: "Well..."
Him: "Uh-huh. And the DVDs? Do you know how we can better sell DVDs?"
Me: "Yes, I think..."
Him: "Uh-huh. Ok, thanks for chatting."

And he would leave. He asked me, no kidding, four times for input into something but would then not actually wait for an answer.

But he was really the least of my concerns in music, mainly because when you work in the music department, you become a pariah of sorts. You're enclosed in an environment completely foreign to most of the people that work at Booth and Noble. Usually, the only contact you get with other employees is when they punch in or out for their breaks, because the "timekeeping" computer is at the front of the music department.

The exception to this is when someone comes to relieve you and give you your break. It usually occurs about halfway through a shift.

When I came back from my break yesterday, I arrived midway through a conversation between a woman and the employee who had relieved me. Here is what I heard:

Woman: "....directed by Francis Ford Coppola"
Employee: "...um..Ok. I'll check the computer." She types on the computer for a little bit and then comes up with nothing. "Ma'am, the only The Black Stallion I have coming up on my computer was directed by Carroll Ballard. Is this the one you're looking for?"
Woman: "I don't know. Maybe. I know what the cover looks like."

The employee found the right movie, but the woman left without ordering it.

Later, I received a phone call from a customer who disliked, intently, the fact that he had to talk on the phone. This I know because he made it abundantly clear:

"Hey!" He yelled this into the phone the way old people still refer to the digital clocks as "The Machine" ("What time is it, Granddad?" I don't know, Paul, why don't you check The Machine?"). "Hey there, son. I want to know if you have a movie."

"Ok, I can check that for you, sir. What title are you looking for?"

"Wishmaster 4. Make sure it's Wishmaster 4. The last time I called I was told it was Wishmaster 4, but they ordered me Wishmaster 3! If I'd wanted Wishmaster 3, I would have said, 'Wishmaster 3'!"

"Ok, I've got Wishmaster 4 on the computer, but I don't have any in the store. Can I order it for you?"

"Yeah. I got Wishmaster 1, Wishmaster 2, and Wishmaster 3 all at home. I just need this one to round out the trilogy."

"Uh...sir..." I think better of it. "No, that's a good idea."

I put the movie in the shopping cart for him and start to place his order.

"Can I get your phone number, sir?"

He gives me his number. Since he's ordered something from us before, his name pops up.

"Ok, I see you've ordered from us before, so I'll just place this order for you..."

"WAIT!" he screams. I wait. "What name comes up?"

"Um..." and I tell him his name. Let's call him Earl Smithery.

"No!" he yells. "My name is Earl F. Smithery."

"Wait, you want me to put Earl F. Smithery?"

"Yes! My mama gave me an F, so damn it, I'm gonna put an F there."

"You can put an F anywhere you want, sir. Ok, I've changed your name to Earl F. Smithery."

"AND WHAT ADDRESS DO YOU HAVE FOR ME?"

I read him the address we have on file.

"That's fine. That's fine."

"Do you want me to mail you the movie directly to your home, sir?"

"NO! That FUCKING UPS always leaves it on my doorstep. Anyone can take my Wishmaster if they wanted to."

"Ok, so I'll order it into the store." I suddenly saw a vicious gang of DVD thieves wandering around Schenectady, pilfering UPS boxes, gleefully opening them up, and staring wide-eyed when they saw Wishmaster 4 before them. Their eyes would widen, and their mouths would slacken, for they had never beholden such a wonder. "Wishmaster 4" they would whisper to themselves. "Can it be? Can it possibly be?" They would look at themselves, see the horror they represent, the death of society and the scourge of humankind. Slowly, ever so slowly, the would put the DVD back in the UPS box and back away from the doorstep, whispering so that only the dead can hear, "thank you Earl F. Smithery. Thank you."

I order his movie to the store and Earl F. Smithery hangs up without saying thank you. Just wait until he sees Wishmaster 4...then he'll think about his poor ways and become, just like those before him, a hero. A hero with a machine.