I don't like Fry's Electronics.
No, they didn't have a 'no girls allowed sign.' Although I wish they would have.
Something about that place makes me feel like I'm treading water in jello. The employees look miserable, bustling around like if they stopped moving, they'd have to admit how hung over they were. Everyone seems lost, and the few that aren't are bumping and bouncing through the rest of us like a ball in a fooseball table. It never ends. Did you know that place has fifty cash registers? Fifty. And yet somehow we still spent an eternity in line.
And that's where we met the crazy man. He was standing behind us in line, and when I took a picture of a sign saying that our Fry's receipt may contain a chemical known to cause cancer ("Yes, I'm here to return my cancer and yes, I have my receipt..."), he used the opportunity to strike up a conversation with Nick about his unicycling shirt. He wanted to start a unicycling club with Nick. Every time he'd ask something, we'd end our response with, "Ok, well, you have a great day now," and turn around, only to be asked another question.
It quickly became apparent that the sort of club he wanted to start with Nick would probably involve a tree house, a 'no girls allowed' sign, and him using Nick's skin as a lampshade.
Once outside, we hid in a far corner of the parking lot until he left.
No, they didn't have a 'no girls allowed sign.' Although I wish they would have.
Something about that place makes me feel like I'm treading water in jello. The employees look miserable, bustling around like if they stopped moving, they'd have to admit how hung over they were. Everyone seems lost, and the few that aren't are bumping and bouncing through the rest of us like a ball in a fooseball table. It never ends. Did you know that place has fifty cash registers? Fifty. And yet somehow we still spent an eternity in line.
And that's where we met the crazy man. He was standing behind us in line, and when I took a picture of a sign saying that our Fry's receipt may contain a chemical known to cause cancer ("Yes, I'm here to return my cancer and yes, I have my receipt..."), he used the opportunity to strike up a conversation with Nick about his unicycling shirt. He wanted to start a unicycling club with Nick. Every time he'd ask something, we'd end our response with, "Ok, well, you have a great day now," and turn around, only to be asked another question.
It quickly became apparent that the sort of club he wanted to start with Nick would probably involve a tree house, a 'no girls allowed' sign, and him using Nick's skin as a lampshade.
Once outside, we hid in a far corner of the parking lot until he left.
Labels: dose of crazy, My Nick, rant
4 Comments:
It rubs the lotion on its skin. It does this whenever it is told.
It rubs the lotion on its skin or else it gets the hose again. Now it places the lotion in the basket.
This was all I could think about while reading this. I am glad you managed to make it out alive.
Me too. He was creeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeepy.
OMG, DD... me tooooo. But for some reason I had the Joe Dirt version of it stuck in my head.
Hahahahahahaha! I remember the Joe Dirt version.
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