Timid Little Woodland Creatures

Timid Little Woodland Creatures

I’ve mentioned several times already that nowhere in my town participates in Record Store Day. It’s sad.

But yesterday I got to thinking, wouldn’t it be just my luck that our shite little HMV express crap store actually got some stuff in, this year, and I avoided going to the mall because I simply assumed they weren’t playing along (they’re not indie, after all). They haven’t participated yet, why would they now? But maybe…

So I called the store. What does it hurt to ask, right? What follows is a slightly paraphrased but honestly not exaggerated transcript of my call. For the sake of the full picture, please try to imagine the employees’ voices for what they were – scared teenagers afraid of actually having to do anything, or take responsibility for knowing or doing anything (it makes me so mad). If I’d said BOO! theyd have jumped out of their skin.* And so:

Store: Thanks for calling HMV, this is (I didn’t catch her name, we’ll call her Nit hereafter) speaking, how can I help you?

Me: Did your store participate in Record Store Day this year? Did you receive anything in stock for it?

Nit: Umm… [holds phone away from face awhile]… ummm, let me just go ask…?

Me: OK I’ll wait right here.

[Nit was then gone a loooong time. No hold music, she’d just set the receiver down on the counter and wandered off]…

Nit: Ummm, hello? I don’t really know what that is? And our assistant manager has just gone out on break? Would you be able to call back in a little while?

Me: It’s called Record Store Day. It happens once a year, and there are usually exclusive and interesting releases for it. It happened this past Saturday. Does that ring any bells?

Nit: Umm… I worked on Saturday? And I don’t recall anything like that? Can you call back?

Me: Sure. [I hung up, with absolutely no intention of calling back]

Unreal. A record shop employee that didn’t even know what RSD was, and when someone in charge wasn’t there to help she just went immediately into full defensive mode, hoped I’d go away so she wouldn’t have to, you know, like, DO something, ohmigod. Also, you read that correctly, she phrased every sentence as a question. UGH. Part of me was tempted to keep at it, see if I could break her. But another 8-10 seconds on the phone wasn’t high on my list of priorities.

After supper, I went over to the store. It was after dinner, so it would be a new shift and Nit wouldn’t be there. I was the only customer in the store. Neither employee greeted me, upon entering.

I did a quick scan of the place, didn’t notice anything like a special display or, well, anything different than the last time I was in there. Quelle surprise. I was about to (correctly) conclude that they had nothing and walk back out, my brief hopes of RSD stuff left-over soundly dashed. And then the young heavier-set employee walked over and avoided eye contact while asking if I needed help.

I may have mentioned him before, let’s call him Git. The only thing in his favour was he’s out of his Mom’s basement and gainfully employed. Again, if I’d so much as reached into my inside coat pocket for a stick of gum he’d have flung himself over the racks in a sad attempt at taking cover. So timid, it’s crazy. What, do they beat these people into submission, or something? Are they so afraid of actually needing to know things that they seriously hope no one ever asks them anything? They don’t need to be in my face, but they don’t need to be afraid to speak confidently to customers. It is their job, comes with the shitty t-shirt. Anyway.

I looked straight at him, and, in response to his offer for help, I said:

Me: Did you guys get anything in stock for this year’s Record Store Day?

Git: Ummm… no? I don’t think so? I don’t really know?

[at this point, the woman with whom he was “working” this shift walked close enough that I might have caught her attention and asked her, too, since he was flailing already. But she very, very quickly looked away and made a break for the far end of the store, clipboard of surely vital information in hand].

Me: I didn’t think you had, but still, a guy can hope, right? (me with a big smile, inviting him to join me in my convivial attempt)

Git: Ummm… yes? I don’t really know? Do you need help finding anything?

Me: No. No, I don’t.

Git: [looking exceedingly relieved] Oh good, OK.

And then he walked away so fast you’d think I’d threatened to rip his arms off and beat him with them.

I wandered the store a bit more, to try to wash the stink of ineptitude, fear and absolute lack of social skills out of my brain. I did see a cool Dream Theater boxed set, 10 studio albums for $70 and, even though that’s way out of my price range, I knew that it would probably be a gift that would just keep on giving.

But soon enough I left, leaving the timid little woodland creatures of our shite little HMV express crap outlet to hide for the rest of their shift. I could feel the sigh of relief wafting against my back as I walked through the theft detectors. You see, I’d asked one of them for help (right to his face!), and one customer forcing them to think and interact is probably their shift quota. And they still had two hours to go…

Oh no! Is he actually coming into the store? Take cover!

No eye contact… no sudden movements… can’t see me…

Dammit, I left my clipboard over there. It’s too close to the customer to risk getting it…

I can’t help him if I can’t hear him…

I’m just the assistant manager. Come back when the Manager is here…

 

 

* You’ll think I’m being unfair or uncharitable, in my write-up of this. Or that I was in some way rude to them. I wasn’t, I simply asked a question. They really are THAT bad. It’s… pathetic.