I slowly approached the temporary table that had been set up under the big RETURNS signs. There were lots of holiday traditions to be savored, but the after-Christmas gift return definitely wasn’t one of them.
“Yes?” said the Evil Gift Return Lady.
“Uh, hi. I’d like to return this item. It was a Christmas gift.”
“Gotta receipt?”
“Well no. As I said, it was a gift.”
“Can’t very well take it back without a receipt now, can I? Don’t know how much you paid for it.”
“I didn’t pay anything for it. I told you – it was a gift!”
“You didn’t pay for it? What are you – some kind of shoplifter or something? How in the world do you expect the store to give you money for it? You waltz in here with something you didn’t even pay for, probably stuck it in your back pocket, and then expect to waltz on back out again with a big wad of cash? Does that somehow seem fair to you?”
“Look, let’s start over. You’re missing the point. I didn’t steal it. It’s in a 2-foot long box – does it really look like I slipped it in my back pocket? Someone bought this in your store. They gave it to me as a Christmas gift. I don’t have a use for it, so now I’d like to return it. It’s really pretty simple.”
“Oh it’s simple all right. You’re a bit of an ingrate, and possibly a shoplifter, and now you’re trying to take advantage of the store. You’re quite a piece of work Mister! And besides, I don’t think that’s even one of our products.”
“Of course it’s your product! You manufacture it! It’s got your name in big letters all over it! And there’s a huge display of exactly the same thing right over there!”
“Well well, Mr. Smarty Pants, since I appear to be dealing with an ungrateful shoplifter who doesn’t pay for things and then wants to return them to the store, how do I know you didn’t simply steal one of our empty boxes and then put something else inside so you could return it for that big ‘ol wad of cash we were talking about? There could be a dead muskrat inside for all I know!”
“A dead muskrat?”
“It could happen. Happened once to a friend of mine down south, she was working at a big ‘ol store near the bayou, and this guy come in with a burlap bag, claimed he’d got it as a birthday present, and she could see the bag was still wet and wiggling, and -”
“I don’t have any idea what in god’s name you’re talking about, lady! I just want to return this! You can open the box and check inside if you want – I don’t care!!”
“Why? Just so I can make an ungrateful shoplifting muskrat-murderer happy?”
“I give up! Is there someone else I can talk to?!?”
“Why yes sir,” she said, suddenly sweet. “Go up one floor, just past the escalators, and turn left. Look for the big sign that says Customer Service. Just past that you’ll see a room with a huge red bow over the top. Go in there and ask for Wynonna.”
“Finally. Is she a supervisor? Someone with some authority to handle this return?”
“No sir. Wynonna’s in charge of gift wrap.”
“Why in the world would I want to see someone in gift wrap? I’m trying to return this stupid thing!”
“Well we’ve been down that road now, haven’t we sir. No sense getting dust on our shoes all over again. I’m trying to be helpful here. For just $4.99, Wynonna will do just a beeeutiful job of wrapping whatever it is that you’ve got in that stolen box there. Then you can re-gift it to someone else. ‘Course, if I was you, I’d keep a list going. Ingrates such as yourself probably do a lot of re-gifting, and you want to keep track of who gets which leftovers, if you catch my drift.”
I finally gave up at that point, tucked my box back under my arm, and headed for the door. But as I turned to leave, I noticed a sign on the wall next to the returns table:
“Satisfaction 100 Percent Guaranteed!”
Deciding that was enough ammunition for one final shot, I turned back to Evil Gift Return Lady and pointed to the sign.
“What about that,” I said with triumph?
She just smiled. “Well sir, I can guarantee you that at this point, I’m 100 percent satisfied.”
Paul can be reached at paul2887@ykwc.net.