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7:28 a.m. - 2004-10-27


Another day, another job interview for a job that I won't get.

This time ... hooo boy ... a job picking up money from banks in an armored car.

Or driving the car.

Or something to do with either of the two.

The guy called me yesterday and was super nice and said he had two openings on the day shift doing "bank runs" and by the looks of my resume, it looked like I could do this.


My resume says I'm a DJ who totally fucked up his last job, ran the job before that into the ground and was lethargic and bored at the job before that.

What the hell ... bring it on.

If nothing else, another job interview gives me the opportunity to leave the house wearing a suit and tie and making all the little girls cry.

Not really.

I just saw the need to end that sentence with a rhyme for some ungodly reason.

After yesterday, I am firmly entrenched on Best Buy's Most Wanted List.

I stopped by there to pick up a brand new copy of "Dawn Of The Dead", an awesome horror flick starring about 10,000 zombies.

I go to Best Buy because in the Sunday circular, it said that if you buy your copy at Best Buy, you get a bonus DVD with a zombie mockumentary and other assorted goodies.

Since I'm all about the assorted goodies shit, I drive drive drive over to Best Buy in my jalopy.

I snatch up a copy as I walk through the door.

I also peruse the "3 for $20" Horror Movie table there.

Since I'm a sucker for a bargain, I pick up "The Evil Dead", "Texas Chainsaw Massacre (the original)" and "Fright Night".

I sashay/skip over to the cashier.

The cashier rings me up.

Apparently, the three movies are 3 for $30 and not 3 for $20 like the ad said.

Well then ... hello?? Is anybody here familiar with the phrase "false advertising"?

The lady points out that ONLY the movies shown in the ad are 3 for $20. Two of the movies I picked out aren't in the ad.

Well then ... hello?? I already knew that. I was just trying to pull a fast one on you people and apparently Best Buy has went out and did the unthinkable ... THEY'VE PROPERLY TRAINED THEIR EMPLOYEES ON PROCEDURES.

After I picked myself up off the floor from the initial shock, I asked the cashier to kindly remove the 3 for $30 movies from my total bill, as I was not going to pay $10/apiece for the films since A) I've seen "Fright Night" about a dozen times and it's lost its initial appeal B) I was never all that impressed with the original "Massacre" and C) "Evil Dead" scared the living hell out of me as a young man, being the only movie to ever make me sleep with the lights on afterwards and I certainly don't need to relive that painful memory again anytime soon.

The girl politely removed the items from my bill, charging me for "Dawn of the Dead" and that was it.

While she's doing the override, I catch a glimpse of my nerdy ex-roommate from the mid-80s, Dick.

Because I have made a career out of avoiding this guy for the last 15 years or so, I decide to keep my streak of not talking to the dweeb intact and crouch down at the check-out counter, putting my head as close to the counter as possible.

Thus, totally freaking out the cashier.

"There's someone over there I don't want to see," I hissed quietly.

Naturally, she thinks I'm a fugitive and am hiding from the cop.

I tried to explain that it was an old roommate. But as Queen Latifah would say "I don't wanna hear that shit".

(I'm not sure if Queen Latifah would actually say that. It's not like it's her own personal catch phrase or anything. I think I meant to type "Missy Elliott" but there again, I doubt she'd say it either.)

So she bags me up and I haul ass out the door.

I get in the car, pull out of the lot, get to a red light and yank the DVD out of the bag, reading the crap on the back of it.

I notice the word "Fullscreen".


I DESPISE fullscreen DVDs with a burning, searing hatred that I usually reserve for big-nosed non-musical artists that lip-sync on "Saturday Night Live".

This meant that I would have to turn around, return the DVD and get the widescreen edition.

This also meant ... I would stand a damned good chance of being cornered by Dick who would want to prattle on and on about the thousands of CDs that he's bought in the last 15 years and his personal review of each, ending with "We need to get together sometime!"


If I recall, the reason we stopped living together was you smelled marijuana coming from my bedroom and were about a second away from calling the cops on my ass.


Let's get together real soon ... you geeky fuck.

I walked back in the store, shoulders hunched, eyes darting around the general area, and made a beeline for customer service.

I was the only person waiting in line. The dick in front of me was flirting with the brown sugar behind the counter relentlessly.

"C'mon ... gimme your phone number" he said.

"I can't!" she giggled. "I'm working!"

"C'mon ... I won't tell nobody," he prodded.

"I can't!" she giggled again.

"C'mon ... you know you want to!"



(Me bashing my head against the wall in hopes it'd move this conversation along and I could get out of there before Dick saw me.)

Finally, Romeo got that elusive phone number, the cashier giggled like she had a mouse in her undies and I got waited on.

Now, I've never returned anything at Best Buy, so I wasn't aware that you had to go through about two billion different forms of paper work before you could exchange a fullscreen edition of a DVD for a widescreen.

Finally, after signing my testicles off, the girl says "Go get a widescreen copy and bring it back."



You're going to force me to walk away from this spot right out into that general area with all the new DVDs while FUCKING DICK was roaming the store with no appointed guardian???


I KNOW I must have looked like a covert spy, gazing around every corner and making a mad dash for the new release table.

I saw a copy with the word "Widescreen" on it.

I snatched it up.

I tiptoed back to the counter in exaggerated steps.

I signed a few more release forms and was on my way.

I snuck out the front door, having to endear every single goddamned employee and their well wishes.

"Have a nice day, sir!"

"Come back and see us!"

"Join us for our 12% sale tomorrow!"

Shut. The. Fuck up.

I reach the exit, walk through it and ...


Oh holy hell.

I set off the alarm.

Luckily, there's a guy whose job it is to sit next to the front door and beat the crap outta people who shoplift.

I stood there, facing the second set of double doors and handed the bag back to him without turning around for fear that Dick would see me and accuse me of shoplifting and used his cell phone to call the cops on me. As well as report me for drug use in '86.

The guy touched the DVD to the check-out counter which must be magnetized or something and that's how they demagnetize stuff so that the alarms don't go off. So if you're ever looking to shoplift from Best Buy, you have to somehow manage to touch the shoplifted stuff to a check-out counter before you jet outta the building. Smart thinking on Best Buy's part, if I do say so myself.

He hands me my bag back and forces me to have a nice day.

I walk outta the building.

And here he comes.

Dick was in the parking lot, apparently getting some more money for his dozens of purchases for the day.

I stood there in the hot sun, listening to him babble on and on about the latest releases from Carly Simon and Nana Mouskouri or however her name's spelled.

Aaaaand fought really hard to not knee him in the nuts while he talked.

Finally, he's gotten me caught up on every disc from 1989 until the present time in his collection and I'm allowed to go.

I get in the car, hit the same red light and look at the DVD box.

There's no "BONUS DISC" sticker on this one.

Therefore ... there's no bonus disc inside the DVD case.

For a fleeting moment, I thought about making yet another U-Turn, going back in the store, filling out more paperwork and being grilled by Dick about the possible reunion of Dire Straits someday.

The light turned green.

And I hauled ass as far away from Best Buy as fast as I could.

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