Letter To A Sales Clerk

Dear Sales Clerk at Computer Store;

I know you must be surprised to be receiving this letter. I would guess you probably don’t get much mail at work. I want to start by saying I’m sorry for you. I’m sorry you’re in a job you cannot perform. Additionally that you have started to kid yourself, and your customers, into believing in skill that you neither possess, nor will ever acquire. I don’t mean any of this as a cut on you personally. I’m sure that there would be lots of places that your skills would be useful. Nothing comes to my mind right off the bat, but I’m sure we could find someplace for you outside the state mental system. Maybe you would be well suited for a career in management.

You might not remember me specifically as I’m sure the way we interacted yesterday is what you would consider, ‘quality customer service.’ People who are not in your position might call it something else, like annoying, stupid, or just plain imbecilic. Regardless I wanted to send you this letter to better help you in the future, or at least, purge the encounter from my system by writing it down.

When I came in the store, I was looking at computer parts and equipment. Additionally I spent some time browsing through video cards. I was doing this because, I enjoy to be near technology. It makes me happy to see all the equipment lined up on the shelf in pretty boxes and know what they are all for. I then picked up a video card box and started looking at the specifications. This was the point that we began our interaction. I’m sure that there are lots of elderly grandmothers buying video cards for their decrepit computers that could benefit from your expertise. I assured you I was fine and thanked you for your help.

This did not dissuade you from lying to me. You smiled, grabbed an expensive shiny box at random and began your dissertation. Your dissing array of manufactured knowledge was astounding. Even though I’ve been immersed in computing for over a decade, I’d never heard of the protocols and acronyms you rattled off. My favorite being APG ROM which sounds like a fantastic new invention from the future. Even the box itself was crying out with corrections on your ‘truths.’ When I called you on it, you merely shook your head as if to say, ‘Oh you poor soul. It’s a good thing I stopped by.” We chatted back and forth for a number of minutes before I could no longer stand it.

I thanked you again and left the store. I left not because I felt ashamed of being shown up by a lier, but because my brain was shrinking after our conversation. I wanted to get out of the store before I could no longer feed myself. Please don’t take this letter as a criticisms but as a warning from someone who longs for your own best interest. Please, get help. Soon. If nothing else, learn to say, ‘I don’t know.’ That would at least be a start.

Peter Brown
Stupid Customer #183652


Jeremy said...

Kludge.... you HAVEN'T heard of the APG ROM stuff yet?? Boy you must be living in the like '80's when it comes to computer tech. I feel sorry for the sales associate (as they prefer to be called) for having to deal with a "real" tech professional like yourself.

kludge said...

It's hard being a 29 year-old dinosaur!

It's also hard to argue with a smug 16 year-old who thinks playing Xbox makes him computer savy.

It was leave or weep...I think I made the right choice.

J Crew said...

I am quite surprised that the gentleman or kid persisted in telling you the what for on the card you were looking at. Most kids want to leave adults alone and do as little work as possible it seems

kludge said...

J Crew-
The young lads believe that anyone over the age of twenty-two is computer illiterate. It's just the way retail computer sale associates are.

The attitude comes with the polo shirt!

Ando said...

Kids today.

jenylu said...

Oh dear...he probably would have been quite convincing to someone like me!

kludge said...




You should bring a polygraph machine when you go shopping! It might be slightly bulky solution, but well worth it in the long run.