My hard drive is about to fail in my laptop, so I took it to Fry's Electronics to get a new one. I normally ponder for at least twenty minutes the finer details of my hardware selections before deciding on one, but I was in a hurry, so I asked the clerk for help. I showed him the old drive so that he would have no trouble finding me a compatible one. I wasn't sure if he were entirely conscious -- he just kind of gazed my general direction and slowly started moving like he were in a completely alien environment. He even looked a little horrified that I would ask for help. He looked like he wanted to say, "Do I look like I work here -- oh yeah, I guess I do, the name tag and all." Maybe he was on drugs -- I don't know. After checking some cheat-cheat, he mumbled about the 3 sizes he had, and I asked for the 100GB one. I bought it and brought it home. I opened the package, and it wasn't the right type. It's too late to take it back tonight, so I'll have to do it tomorrow. This is at least the third time a Fry's employee has sold me the wrong thing or promised something false about a product. Don't they train these people!? It took getting burned several times, but I've finally learned my lesson to never ask for help there again.
I think this could spark a good short story or scene in a novel. If they don't take the drive back, I think I'll just do that -- and post it to more than this blog.
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