I have been declared Emperor of the World. Let us not waste time explaining why or how; let’s all simply accept the fact that we are better off, as a result; hence, my next decree:
Emperor’s Decree No. 7N: Like anyone else, the Emperor has need of an occasional conversion cord or of a particular plug-doohickey in order to connect his laptop to the TV or something. For that, he usually goes to Radio Shack. But, after years of this, he has decided to stop dumping riches from the royal coffers into that establishment. The reason? They hire turds. Arrogant turds; rude turds; insecure turds; turds who are so eager for actual human contact that they will attempt to prolong said contact even if it means starting an argument from word one — or, perhaps, especially if it means that.
Case in point: “Hi,” says the Emperor, merrily, “I have this Dell laptop…” “Well,” interrupts the Radio Shack turd, in exactly the same voice as the comic book store guy on The Simpsons, “that’s your first problem. Harharhar.” Many incidents such as this have occurred, but the ever-lovin’ topper was the Emperor’s last visit, yesterday, at the end of a long quest for a cord with which to send a signal from VGA output into an RCA video input, during which visit the Radio Shack turd studied his iPhone as if it were a naked woman (which, I am sure, he will one day see in person — I mean, it has to happen everyone eventually, right?) never once making contact with the royal eyes. “No,” he said. “Go online. We don’t have that in stock.” [This last bit, said with an inflection he might have used if I had asked him for mint-chocolate-chip ice cream — as if only the most uninformed asshat on the planet could possibly think they would carry such an item.] Enough is enough. Management may no longer hire these antisocial turds. We realize that a gig at Radio Shack is like being in Best Buy’s minor-leagues, but, nevertheless, standards must go up.
The Punishment: [Read more →]