That Day I Used My Breasts to Get Revenge at Best Buy

This story begins with a broken camera lens. I bought this lens as a part of a camera kit. So, when I took the lens to get repaired, they required me to send the entire camera off. So I did. Several days later, I got the camera back, and the repair wasn’t complete.

Time passed, then I finally took the lens back to be repaired. They sent it off again, and I quickly got an email that told me to pick up my camera, suggesting that I make an appointment, which I happily did. They provided a handy list of things to bring with me which included any accessories that came with my device and any questions that I had.

I showed up to pick up my camera. I approached the service counter and saw the employee standing there.  Let’s call her Krista (not her real name). She greeted me, then I told her that I was there for an appointment to pick up my camera. Before I made it all the way to the desk, she asked me for a piece of picture ID.

I’ve used this service in the past, and didn’t recall them asking for ID then, so I said, “I guess I’ll have to go get it from the car.”

Then she nodded weakly at me. For some reason, this made me angry. I turned to go get my ID, but on the way, I said, “It would have been nice if the notification had told me to bring my ID.

I came back, ID, in hand and this girl looked at it. Her co-worker came to assist her. Let’s call him Ned. He had the body language of a guy who was proud to help this damsel in distress. The body itself was in a shape of a slug. Ned Slugbody stood behind her, a softbodied guard, as she went through the repairs made to the camera. She read from the list like Floyd Mayweather reading from Harry Potter. She acted as if she was afraid of me. Ned acted like he could protect her. 

Ned G. Slugbody (middle name Greasyface) placed the camera on the counter. I reached for it, then, he gives me permission to verify that my own camera is working. I tried the camera, and the lens still wasn’t working properly. I told Ned. He tried it himself, then stated in wonder, “It doesn’t work.” This is when I resisted the urge to look him dead in the eye while thrusting my fist into the air yelling, “Eureka!”

Ned said, with confidence, “Sometimes the devices come back unrepaired.” He then promised that my camera will be overnighted back out for repair.

I left and continued to simmer. 

I tracked the status of my repair like a jilted lover stalks an ex’s Facebook posts.

This incident occurred on a Wednesday. My camera was not sent out until that Friday.

Then the requisite survey about my experience came. I went to town on it. I felt better. 

A little.

Today, I got the message that my camera was ready to pick up. So, I went back to Best Buy hoping that the third time was, indeed, the charm. 

I wondered whether Krista is going to be at the counter.  

I made sure to take my ID into the store. I grabbed some other items, too.

She was there. I looked at her aggressively.

An innocent man served me. It seemed like he wasn’t going to ask me for my ID. I stood there smugly…until he asked for it.

Then, I reached into my bra and pulled out a bottle of Zyrtec, placing it firmly on the counter. The aggressive smacking sound was satisfying. Then, I pulled out a hair roller and placed it beside the allergy pills. 

“It’s in here somewhere,” I said for effect.

I continued to paw around in there and pulled out a small roll of pink camo washi tape. I asked Alex to hold it. Then, finally, I pulled out the ID, which had been resting safely at my shoulder the whole time. I handed it directly to the innocent man taking care to place it very close to his face.

He checked the ID and goes off to get the camera. 

Alex and I try to stifle our laughter.

Krista is lingering in the background nearby, sneaking furtive glances at me, then I say, loud enough that she could hear it, to Alex. “Don’t let me forget to get that cream on the way home,” as I gesture toward my bosom.

Innocent guy brought me my camera. I checked it. It worked. I thanked him.

I also spent the evening bursting out into spontaneous laughter, now satisfied with my experience.

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