Friday, November 4, 2011

Where My Mind Wanders To When I Find Strange Things In My Pocket.


Me: Hi!
Clerk: Good afternoon, sir. How can I help you?
Me: Hi. I'd like to see No. 111.
Clerk: Excuse me?
Me: No. 111. I bought this shirt here a few days ago and I found this tag in the pocket. It says I should return this shirt to No. 111 if there's a fault or a defect.
Clerk: Oh. Is there a problem?
Me: Are you No. 111?
Clerk: No, I'm Cindy. But if you explained the problem, maybe I could help.
Me: Well... Okay... But it really says I should talk to No. 111...
Cindy: So, what seems to be the problem?
Me: It has this weird smell.
Cindy: It does? (*smells shirt*) Oh! Oh my! I'm so sorry, sir! I don't  know how this could have happened. If you have your receipt, I can exchange it for you.
Me: No worries. Here.
Cindy: If you don't mind me asking, didn't you notice the odour when you bought it?
Me: It didn't smell like that when I bought it.
Cindy: It didn't?
Me: No. It smelled like that when I got home. From work.
Cindy: Ummm... So you wore it?
Me: Yeah. To work! I work now. Awesome, right?! I can't stop talking about it.
Cindy: Well... congratulations.
Me: Thank you. Anyway, when I got home, I took it off and a few hours later, there was that smell.
Cindy: Oh. I have to ask. Did you sweat?
Me: Did I!?! I sweat all the time. I think I have hyperactive sweat glands. That's how much I sweat.
Cindy: Then maybe it's possible that the scent came from your sweating then?
Me: Uh-uh! No way! I thought you'd try to say something like that so I brought this.
Cindy: That's-
Me: My deodorant.
Cindy: I'm confused...
Me: Hello! De.o.do.rant! As in it takes the odour away. No way it could have been me.
Cindy: It doesn't-
Me: And what about the fact that the shirt was wet when I got home. It was hot yesterday. Not a drop of rain.
Cindy: Well... the sweating...
Me: Ah-HA! Look again. See?  It's also an antiperspirant. It blocks perspiring. Nice try, Cindy.
Cindy: Sir, I... You said you did sweat-
Me: You know what? Lemme talk to No. 111. I bet he or she could sort this out.
Cindy: Sir, these shirts are made in England. Whoever 111 is, they're all the way over there. I don't know the inspectors.
Me: Trying to stall me, huh? What's your number? I need to report this.
Cindy: I don't have a number, sir. Besides, there isn't anything we can really do for you.
Me: Well, that's not a very helpful attitude. It's no wonder you don't haven't been given a number yet. Is it, Cindy?

9 comments:

  1. I don't know who to feel more sorry for...
    lol.

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  2. This happens to all writers.

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  3. Lol. I sense some dissatisfaction with customer service, Ja?

    You can lie down on ze couch and tell me about it.

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  4. @ Sprite: Me, of course. In the end I get stuck with the smelly shirt.

    @ dbs: At least I'm not the only one out there...

    stuck with a smelly shirt ;)

    @ AC: It all started the first time I took out cable. They promised so much & lied. I-I feel so betrayed!

    @ Poetry: Yeah. The outcome from an actual conversation like this would probably not go so smoothly. Or, at least, so I imagine. I mean, it isn't like something like this ever really happened.. heh-heh...

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  5. this had a hint of dr. gonzo to it, lol

    too funny :)

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  6. You would not have had this problem if the shirt was made in Japan.

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  7. That was funny!

    I'd blame the faulty deodorant! And poor Cindy, not having a number must be so demoralizing.

    Great sense of humour!

    Cheers, Jenny

    PEARSON REPORT

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  8. @ Kage: Too kind. I love being compared to actual famous people by rock stars such as yourself. Wait! Are you flirting with me? ;)

    @ Nubian: EXACTLY! It would be one of those air-conditioned ones with fans in the back.

    @ Pearson Report: I didn't want to call her on the number thing, but she was being difficult so I had to take her down a peg.

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