06-24-2015, 01:15 AM
July's issue of Hemmings Muscle Machines has an article on a 71 429SCJ Mach 1, so I stopped by "Books-a-Million" in the mall to pick up a copy.
I was hoping this was how it would go:
I walk in the store, no body bothers me. Maybe an employee would give me a friendly smile and head nod if we happened to make incidental eye-contact.
I make my way casually over to the magazine section, find what I am looking for, and browse for a minute or two to see if there is any other magazines I might want.
Take my selections to the counter, a polite employee rings them up, asks if there is anything else I am looking for, and then tells me the total.
I pay, she says "thank you", I leave with my purchases.
That would be great.
But no... this is the ordeal you get now:
You walk in the store, immediatly an employee from about 20 feet away fairly screams at you "Welcome to Books-a-Million! What can I help you find?!"
I respond "nothing, thank you."
As I walk away towards the magazine section, the overly-cheerful employee says still-too-loudly "OK! If you change your mind, just ask any employee for assistance...thanks again!"
As I get about half-way from the jacked-up greeter to the magazine rack, another employee who is obstensibly stocking/ arranging books down one aisle, but is really laying in wait to pounce on a defenseless customer springs out in front of me, and temporarily stuns me with a blinding flash of teeth in a huge company-required smile, says "Hello, sir!...what can I help you find?".
I say "I'm OK...just picking up a magazine" as I try to continue on my way.
With his skillful way of "stepping aside" to let you pass, without actually getting out of your way to really let you pass, he says "Great! That's in the periodicals...follow me, I will show you where it is!", and then starts to lead me down an aisle that is clearly the long way to the magazine section.
"What type of magazines are you interested in today? We have an excellent array of just about anythi...",
I interrupt with "just a car magazine" as I try to continue on my way and not get sucked into a conversation about nothing with someone I don't even know.
Arriving at the magazine rack, I get "What you want is right down here in our 'automotive' section! Are you interested in used car values, new car reviews, enthusiast publications...?"
"I'll just browse around, thank you very much", and I give a polite head-nod and tiny smile.
"OK, just let any Books-a-Million associate know if you can't find what you are looking for!", and off he goes, I assume to his daily big-smile and laser-staring eye-contact training session.
A few seconds in I spot the rag I'm looking for, reach to pull it out and then I am startled by another raptor-like "associate" who has effortlessly sidled up beside me, more smoothly and silently than "Grasshopper" could have ever done in the old "Kung Fu" TV show.
"Ahh...classic cars. I love those old beauties..." After I startlingly register that there is suddenly another living, breathing person right next to me in my close, personal space, I silently say thank-yous that it wasn't a serial killer right next to me, for I would never have felt the cold sharp steel across my neck until it was too late.
Then I realize...maybe he IS a serial...and I step away a bit, keeping my one eye looking to the side.
"Do you have an old car like one of these?", he says flashing that industrial grimmace the belies his deep-seated hatred of me and every other customer in his minimum-wage job that he dreads going to every day.
I lie: "No, just picking this up for a buddy."
As he starts with his "Oh, well that's very...", I quickly move away ( not quite a "sidle"...I don't have the technique).
I somehow make my way to the register, subtly craning my neck every which way to try and ferret out any other enemy combatants hiding in strategic corners, waiting to pounce...
When I get to the register...the fun really begins:
I lay my single magazine on the counter, smile at the cashier...and with her best "Joker" grin she says far too loudly ( they are all too loud), "Thanks a million for shopping at Books-a-Million today!, what else are you looking for today?"
"Nothing, just the magazine."
"How about a candy bar, they're 2 for a dollar...great price!"
"No thanks...just this."
"OK, no problem! If ever you want something you don't see on the shelf, we can always order it for you! Was there anything you wanted to order today?"
"No thank you. Just the magazine...nothing else."
"OK! Just to let you know, we have these selfie-sticks on sale! What kind of phone do you...?"
"No thanks, I've already got one ( I lied again). Just...the...magazine."
"Fantastic! Do you have one of our book-club discount cards?"
"Nope".
"Oh, well let me tell you all about it! It saves you 10% off ALL future purchases at any Books-a-Million, and it only costs $10! With today's purchase that would save you..."
"Yeah, I'm not interested ( not a lie), just this."
"OK, with today's purchase you get three FREE magazine subcriptions of your choice from this list.Which three magazines do you want?"
"I get free magazines at work, no thanks." I am so desperate and frazzled by the relentless assualt that I don't even realize that my last lie doesn't even make sense, considering that I am buying a magazine right now.
"No problem! Your total is $4.24!"
I swipe my card, the machine beeps and out comes a 3-foot long receipt from the register.
"Would you like your reciept in the bag with your magazine, or would you like it seperate?"
That one threw me, simply because I don't know how to make a decision on something so totally inconsequential and meaningless.
Its all just another part of their game though, for it set her up to say "Here is your reciept! If you ever want to get that book-club membership card, I have circled the number and the website right here for you!".
Just a nod from me as I reached for the reciept. Finally...I can make my escape!
She was having none of that. Continuing on, she says " Down here at the bottom of the reciept is a number for a quick survey so you can tell them just how fabulous I am! Complete that survey and you get $5 off your next purchase!".
I limply took my reciept, put it in my bag, and clomped like a zombie to the same exit door I came in
Several more book-ninjas may have attempted to intercept me on the way out...I wouldn't have noticed...I was too numb.
When I got back to the car my obviously-annoyed wife said "What the hell took you so long...and why are you crying?"
I may never read that magazine...
I was hoping this was how it would go:
I walk in the store, no body bothers me. Maybe an employee would give me a friendly smile and head nod if we happened to make incidental eye-contact.
I make my way casually over to the magazine section, find what I am looking for, and browse for a minute or two to see if there is any other magazines I might want.
Take my selections to the counter, a polite employee rings them up, asks if there is anything else I am looking for, and then tells me the total.
I pay, she says "thank you", I leave with my purchases.
That would be great.
But no... this is the ordeal you get now:
You walk in the store, immediatly an employee from about 20 feet away fairly screams at you "Welcome to Books-a-Million! What can I help you find?!"
I respond "nothing, thank you."
As I walk away towards the magazine section, the overly-cheerful employee says still-too-loudly "OK! If you change your mind, just ask any employee for assistance...thanks again!"
As I get about half-way from the jacked-up greeter to the magazine rack, another employee who is obstensibly stocking/ arranging books down one aisle, but is really laying in wait to pounce on a defenseless customer springs out in front of me, and temporarily stuns me with a blinding flash of teeth in a huge company-required smile, says "Hello, sir!...what can I help you find?".
I say "I'm OK...just picking up a magazine" as I try to continue on my way.
With his skillful way of "stepping aside" to let you pass, without actually getting out of your way to really let you pass, he says "Great! That's in the periodicals...follow me, I will show you where it is!", and then starts to lead me down an aisle that is clearly the long way to the magazine section.
"What type of magazines are you interested in today? We have an excellent array of just about anythi...",
I interrupt with "just a car magazine" as I try to continue on my way and not get sucked into a conversation about nothing with someone I don't even know.
Arriving at the magazine rack, I get "What you want is right down here in our 'automotive' section! Are you interested in used car values, new car reviews, enthusiast publications...?"
"I'll just browse around, thank you very much", and I give a polite head-nod and tiny smile.
"OK, just let any Books-a-Million associate know if you can't find what you are looking for!", and off he goes, I assume to his daily big-smile and laser-staring eye-contact training session.
A few seconds in I spot the rag I'm looking for, reach to pull it out and then I am startled by another raptor-like "associate" who has effortlessly sidled up beside me, more smoothly and silently than "Grasshopper" could have ever done in the old "Kung Fu" TV show.
"Ahh...classic cars. I love those old beauties..." After I startlingly register that there is suddenly another living, breathing person right next to me in my close, personal space, I silently say thank-yous that it wasn't a serial killer right next to me, for I would never have felt the cold sharp steel across my neck until it was too late.
Then I realize...maybe he IS a serial...and I step away a bit, keeping my one eye looking to the side.
"Do you have an old car like one of these?", he says flashing that industrial grimmace the belies his deep-seated hatred of me and every other customer in his minimum-wage job that he dreads going to every day.
I lie: "No, just picking this up for a buddy."
As he starts with his "Oh, well that's very...", I quickly move away ( not quite a "sidle"...I don't have the technique).
I somehow make my way to the register, subtly craning my neck every which way to try and ferret out any other enemy combatants hiding in strategic corners, waiting to pounce...
When I get to the register...the fun really begins:
I lay my single magazine on the counter, smile at the cashier...and with her best "Joker" grin she says far too loudly ( they are all too loud), "Thanks a million for shopping at Books-a-Million today!, what else are you looking for today?"
"Nothing, just the magazine."
"How about a candy bar, they're 2 for a dollar...great price!"
"No thanks...just this."
"OK, no problem! If ever you want something you don't see on the shelf, we can always order it for you! Was there anything you wanted to order today?"
"No thank you. Just the magazine...nothing else."
"OK! Just to let you know, we have these selfie-sticks on sale! What kind of phone do you...?"
"No thanks, I've already got one ( I lied again). Just...the...magazine."
"Fantastic! Do you have one of our book-club discount cards?"
"Nope".
"Oh, well let me tell you all about it! It saves you 10% off ALL future purchases at any Books-a-Million, and it only costs $10! With today's purchase that would save you..."
"Yeah, I'm not interested ( not a lie), just this."
"OK, with today's purchase you get three FREE magazine subcriptions of your choice from this list.Which three magazines do you want?"
"I get free magazines at work, no thanks." I am so desperate and frazzled by the relentless assualt that I don't even realize that my last lie doesn't even make sense, considering that I am buying a magazine right now.
"No problem! Your total is $4.24!"
I swipe my card, the machine beeps and out comes a 3-foot long receipt from the register.
"Would you like your reciept in the bag with your magazine, or would you like it seperate?"
That one threw me, simply because I don't know how to make a decision on something so totally inconsequential and meaningless.
Its all just another part of their game though, for it set her up to say "Here is your reciept! If you ever want to get that book-club membership card, I have circled the number and the website right here for you!".
Just a nod from me as I reached for the reciept. Finally...I can make my escape!
She was having none of that. Continuing on, she says " Down here at the bottom of the reciept is a number for a quick survey so you can tell them just how fabulous I am! Complete that survey and you get $5 off your next purchase!".
I limply took my reciept, put it in my bag, and clomped like a zombie to the same exit door I came in
Several more book-ninjas may have attempted to intercept me on the way out...I wouldn't have noticed...I was too numb.
When I got back to the car my obviously-annoyed wife said "What the hell took you so long...and why are you crying?"
I may never read that magazine...