Trained Monkeys

Monkeys are in charge of our store. We have hundreds...HUNDREDS of Numbtindough Giis in the back room. And guess what?! We're not selling them! I mean, sure we sell about 200 every morning to the people in line (yes, there's still a line forming in front of the store). But the demand is through the roof, the crowds this past week have been worse than launch day AND Black Friday put together... Common sense would tell you, "Hey, Christmas is over. While the demand is still high and people have Christmas money to spend, why don't we sell as many of these bad boys as we can?"

But what do the monkeys do? They've decided NOT to sell them. SERIOUSLY! They ration these Giis like we're about to run out--but we have a couple of thou in the back and a warehouse full of 'em in Jew Nersey!

Here's a conversation I had with one of the managers today:

Me: Hey Carlo, why don't we just sell all the Giis we have? Y'know. Just...sell 'em all.

Carlo: Because imagine how bad Numbtindoughland would look if we sold them all and then had to wait two or three weeks for our next shipment?

Me: Why would we go weeks without getting a shipment? Since November 19th, we haven't gone four days without getting several hundred units.

Carlo: (silence...then leaves)

* * *

Then there's this new bright idea one of the managers had. What if we randomly sell units throughout the day without telling anyone?! Not even the EMPLOYEES! Maybe that will cut down on the line in front of the store every morning! Yeah, fat chance!

So imagine how much fun it is to be in a store FULL of angry people looking for the Gii, telling them we're sold out, then three minutes later watching in horror as boxes and boxes are brought out onto the floor?

"YOU TOLD ME YOU WERE SOLD OUT!"

It's such a shockingly stupid move that I almost can't believe we're doing it. It makes me even more furious than the supposed "recall" (which was completely untrue, by the way). It's even worse when perfectly nice, genteel people calmly approach you and politely ask for the product. You lie to their faces and watch them leave the store, crestfallen. Then, minutes later, out comes Scrappy Malone chomping on a cigar, shouting, "I GOT A GII! YUK! YUK!"

The other reason we're not selling Giis?

Because the managers know that the customers know we have them.

No, I'm not kidding. All it took was two days of randomly selling a "surprise afternoon shipment" before those crafty consumers caught on. "Hey! Maybe they're not getting shipments at all. Maybe they have a bunch in the back room! If I hang around here in the afternoons, there's a good chance I'll get a system!"

That's when the managers say, "Well, since we've got a bunch of people waiting for the Gii upstairs...we're not going to sell any. That'll show them."

This, of course, is all in attempt to perpetuate this effing lie that we get daily "shipments". Rather than be called liars, the managers simply won't sell the units at all! All so they can say, "See, I told you our shipment didn't come in today."

We had a very angry customer today (see below). Instead of going out and doing anything about him, the managers retreated to the bunker downstairs and let the man frighten everybody.

Another Poor Man came to the store very upset about a major screw-up one of the cashiers made when he purchased a Gii weeks ago. He came back a few days later and spoke to Manager A about it. That manager said to come back a few days later and talk to Manager B. Manager B tells him to talk to Manager C next week. Manager C says the problem will be fixed when Manager A gets back from vacation.

Poor Man comes in VERY upset. I attempt to diffuse the situation by asking him what the problem is, agreeing that, "Yes, someone should have done SOMETHING to help him by now" and running downstairs to grab Managers Carlo or Fayette.

Carlo looked legitimately busy counting someone's register. Fat Fayette was sitting at her desk watching her portable DVD player (yeah, while Gii-steria is going on upstairs, she's hiding downstairs. For real).

"Hey Carlo, Fayette, we've got a customer upstairs who really needs assistance from one of you guys. He says he needs help with..." I describe the situation

Carlo just looks up. Says nothing. Fayette doesn't even take her earbuds out of her ears. She gives me this look like, "This isn't MY problem!" and mutters something to Cashier Bob.

The next time I see Cashier Bob, he's standing there telling the very upset Poor Man, "Sorry. We can't do ANYTHING for you."

To which I say, "WTF?"

* * *

SOUNDS WHILE SELLING

* * *

Location: The Gii Sports station. Me and a tiny toddler.

Me: Okay, you can play tennis, baseball, bowli--wow. You're really little. You're like a Who.

* * *

Location: The Same

Me: Okay, you can play tennis, baseball, bowling, golf, or boxing. Don't say golf...don't say golf...

* * *

Location: The Same

Snooty McLaine: (tossing her luxurious hair) Do you have any more Numbtindog Golden Retrievers?

Me: (busily trying to assist kid with Gii Sports) Sorry, ma'am. I have no idea.

Snooty McLaine: (again with the toss) That's what the man at the Gii upstairs said. How am I going to find out.

Me: I don't know. Do I look like a psy-op?

* * *

Location: The Same

Me: (to Disgruntled Dolores) I'm so sorry, ma'am. We sold our last Gii several hours ago. We're completely sold out of Giis for today. (Happy Man walks by with a newly-purchased Gii in a bag)

* * *

Location: Outside, immediately after it was announced we were "sold out" of Giis.

Crazy Carl: I WANT TO SPEAK TO A MANAGER! I WANT NINTENDO ON THE PHONE! THIS IS NOT FAIR! I WANT THE MANAGER OUTSIDE NOW! I WANT TO TALK TO SOMEONE FROM NINTENDO NOW! YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME! YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ALL THE PEOPLE WAITING IN LINE!

* * *

Location: Inside, a few hours later.

Crazy Carl: I WANT TO SPEAK TO A MANAGER NOW! GET THE MANAGER OUT HERE! I DEMAND TO SPEAK WITH A MANAGER!

* * *