I know. Given the title of this post, you're expecting me to impart some deep wisdom to you, some secret understanding of the universe.
Are you ready?
The world is a cutlery drawer.
Profound, huh?
Okay, so it's not what you were expecting, but trust me, this makes sense. I put a lot of work into this.
Or alcohol.
Yeah, I put a lot of alcohol into this.
I mean me.
I put a lot of alcohol into me.
Yeah.
Read it anyway. It's not like we have anything better to do.
*ahem*
The world is a cutlery drawer.
On one side, we have the steak knives. That's our best and brightest, the sharpest of the bunch. These are the guys you go to when you need to get shit done.
They don't mess around.
I'm cool with these people. Yay, steak knives!
Next to them, we have the butter knives. Not as sharp, but sharp enough for some jobs. They're useful in their way.
Not perfect, but they'll do.
I'm okay with these people. They could be better, but whatever.
Seriously, I swear I'm going somewhere with this.
Next is the forks. These guys are general blunt, but they have a few good points. Very few. These are the people that are sharp on occasion, but usually don't have much to offer.
Not really great for delicate work, but if you need something stabbed, these are your people.
As a person who has great respect for a good stabbing, these people are okay.
Lastly, we have the spoons. These people are not sharp. Not even remotely.They are the opposite of sharp.
Now, why is this important? What exactly does this have to do with me?
Because everyone I meet in the run of the day is a FREAKING SPOON!
I know smart people exist. I've heard stories.
And yet, everytime I go anywhere, all I meet are spoons.
I go to a restaurant. Spoon.
I go to the mall. Spoon.
I go to a Gamestop. Spoon.
It's like Alanis Morisette's house.
Today, I made the inevitable trip to the Gamestop near my house. FFXII was out for the DS.
You might not know this, but I kind of like Final Fantasy games.
Who knew?
I took a look around and noticed about a bajillion copies of the game in a locked glass case behind the counter.
So, I walked up to the counter and said
Dave>> I'd like a copy of FFXII for the DS.
It seemed like the right thing to say. I would have liked a copy of FFXII for the DS.
Made sense to me.
Now, this is where the clerk was supposed to say "Not a problem, sir. Let me get one."
Instead, he said
Clerk>> Did you pre-order a copy?
Does that even make any sense? Would I have asked for a copy if I already had one pre-ordered?
Did he think I enjoyed quizzing Gamestop employees?
If I had pre-ordered a copy, I would have started the conversation with that.
Dave>> No...
Dave>> I would have mentioned that.
Clerk>> I'm sorry, sir.
Clerk>> We're only selling copies to people who pre-ordered.
Dave>> ...
Dave>> Are you kidding?
Clerk>> No.
Dave>> Apparently, you do not understand the situation.
Dave>> I have money.
Dave>> M-O-N-E-Y.
Dave>> I want to trade it for a game.
Clerk>> Sir, I understand what you're saying.
Dave>> I really don't think you do.
Dave>> I want to buy something from a store.
Dave>> You're a store.
Dave>> And you won't let me buy something.
Dave>> There is a fundamental breakdown in our relationship.
Clerk>> Please try to understand.
Clerk>> We're trying to encourage people to pre-order.
Clerk>> That way we can serve you better.
Dave>> You know how you could serve me better?
Dave>> You could SELL ME A FREAKIN' GAME!
Clerk>> I'm sorry, sir.
Clerk>> We only have enough copies to fill our pre-orders.
Dave>> You have 8 million copies right behind you.
Dave>> Who pre-ordered? Brazil?
Clerk>> Sir, can I help you with anything else today?
Dave>> ...
Dave>> You...
Dave>> I...
Dave>> You're a spoon.
So, I walked out without my game, but with a beautiful new understanding of retail business models.
Apparently, they just don't like money.
Now, instead of playing a new game, I spent much of my day in deep philosophical analysis of silverware.
God damned spoons.
