I had grand plans of taking a cute photoshoot (to rival all other cute photoshoots) with Mike today, but I left my camera battery in Asheville. Yea, I forgot to pack something. What a weird concept. I never forget anything. I don’t leave wallets in hotel rooms in Germany, phone chargers in different states, nothing like that ever happens to me.
So anyway, I decided to scour Aiken county for a store that might sell a battery for my D40. I called Chris’ Camera in downtown first, and to my horror, they’re closed on Sundays. Oh well. Sabbath. Whatever. Then I called Sears’ electronics department. They don’t sell them in store but they can order them. Well, that’s just perfect considering I want it NOW NOW NOW.
Then I called Target. “We don’t sell camera batteries.”
Then I called Wal-Mart. The first time I called it rang for about half a decade and then made a really loud high pitched noise so I hung up. I called back, not wanting the phone demon to get the best of me.
“Wal-Mart. How may I direct your call?”
-“May I speak with the electronics department?”
-“Hi, can you tell me if you sell batteries for the Nikon D40?”
“I don’t know, we have a lot of batteries.”
-“You can’t look it up in the computer or something?”
“No, I mean you’ll have to come in to the store and actually shop.” Then he laughed this really disgusting nerdy chuckle that I can only equate to Steve Carrell’s character in Dinner for Schmucks.
-“Then what’s the point of having a phone?’
“Uhhh, I dunno.”
-“Is there someone else I can talk to?”
“Well, I guess I could transfer you to one hour photo.”
-“Okay, thanks.” I guess the thought of working for his money was the most gut wrenching thought he’d been saddled with since this morning when he decided whether to wear his Che Guevara shirt or his I’m not anti-social, I just hate you shirt.
He probably just wanted to get off work to go hang out with his girlfriend.
(5 minutes later)
-“Hi, can you tell me if you sell Nikon D40 batteries?”
“Wait, didn’t you just call here?”
Trying to cage my rapidly building frustration, I said:
-“Yea, you were going to transfer me to the photo department…”
“Oh. Let me try again.”
-“Fitting rooms? Are you kidding me? Can you transfer me to the photo department please?”
“One hour photo, how can I help you?”
-“Hi, do you know if you sell batteries for the Nikon D40?”
“Ok, ho’d on, I’mma go check.”
(5 more minutes)
“Who you on ho’d fo’?”
-“Um, a lady was supposed to be checking on a battery for me?”
-“She was going to check if you have Nikon D40 batteries?”
Then in the background I hear the first lady yelling, “We ain’t got them!”
Thanks, Wal-Mart, for all you do to aggravate me and waste my time.
Disgruntled and on the verge of stealing Mike’s shotgun and heading over to WalMart to introduce myself to a few key employees, I got back online and continued to search for a store.
Radio Shack. A large chain like radio shack would have batteries, right? I mean, if I owned a radio shack, I’d have batteries for the D40. So I called.
“WelcometoRadioShackinAMallwherewetalkreallyfastbecauseweknowyou’realreadypissedoff WHAT UP?”
-“What? Is this Radio Shack?”
“I think so.”
OKAY COOL, SO THE ONLY PEOPLE ANSWERING PHONES TODAY ARE RECRUITS FOR THE A-HOLE OF THE CENTURY CLUB. NEATO!
-“Ha. Ha. Okay. Do you guys sell batteries for the Nikon D40?”
“Eh, not really. You’d be better checking Battrieseshshfshs.”
“Noooooo, BATTERIES PLUS.”
-“Oh ok, thank you.” YOU’RE LUCKY I CAN’T DROP KICK YOU IN THE CROTCH THROUGH THIS PHONE.
So I found the number for Batteries Plus.
After it rang endlessly into the next millennium, I Googled it and turns out it’s closed on Sunday.
That’s great. So the only two stores closed on Sundays are the only two stores in the world that I actually want to go to on a Sunday.