Posture Thursday, or, Why Best Buy Sucks

I don’t generally use this space to grind an ax, in spite of already doing so twice this month because of snarky sh*theads dunking on the idea that washing your hands is healthy. Well, it turns out I’ve got another ax to grind, fresh from yesterday.

Strap yourselves in, folks, this is a long one.

A bit of background.

I’ve always been concerned with my hearing health. I’ve got tinnitus, misophonia, sensitivity to loud noises, chronic headaches and migraines and a lifelong love affair with classical music.

Because of the first four I tend to be somewhat socially isolated;

  • I hate noise, and I don’t know when some idiot is going to start making obnoxiously loud noise for no other purpose than, “Look at me, look at me.”
  • Certain sounds, beyond being aggravating, trigger anxiety, anger, or even outright rage, and I don’t know when some idiot is going to start open mouthed gum chewing, snapping it, or cracking his goddamned knuckles.
  • Elevated noise levels worsen my tinnitus, and can trigger headaches, so I wear sound cancelling headphones a lot.

Finally, classical (and Baroque, and Romantic, and Medieval, etc.) music. If you want to hear every note, you need your hearing. So I’ve always been cautious, even outside of my other issues, of turning up the volume. I really don’t want to lose Mozart’s Requiem.

Protect your hearing

Anyway, as a result of the universe’s odd sense of humour, I ended up in the hearing care industry. I didn’t set out to be here, I’m a mechanical engineer, but I did end up here. And here I learned that sound damage is cumulative, and the earlier it starts, the more severe it becomes later in life.

All of which is to say, I worry about my boys’ hearing, so when we bought them headphones for their music, we got volume-limited ones designed for children. One of those sets was fortuitously purchased with Best Buy’s product protection plan.


Yes, fortuitously. I never buy protection plans or extended warranties. The company selling them is betting their product will outlast the plan, and you’re betting it won’t. They know more about the life cycle of the product than you do, and if they’re betting it lasts, I’ll accept their judgement. Down the years I’ve saved a pile of money, and never had any need for these plans. Until now.

See, my boy’s grandparents bought the protection plan, and his headphones broke (from manufacturer’s defect) in the extended plan period.

So why does Best Buy suck?

Let’s start with; they don’t replace the product, they refund your money. If they replaced the product, the extension would continue to the end of the plan, and they might have to pay out again. Since they refund your money, even if you get the same product again, no warranty. Cheeseball bastards.

But wait, there’s more.

You see, my boy decided he didn’t want to replace the headphones. There was a game he (and his brothers) really wanted to have, and it was on sale. He applied his headphone refund toward it, and the brothers chipped in the rest from their “lucky money.” The only catch was, our local store was out.

This is a minor problem as there are two more in the county. So Tuesday at lunch I went online to check stock, and there were a few at one of the others. I reserved a copy to be picked up within 24 hours.

And the next day, when I showed up with a copy of the reservation in hand, was told, “It’s not here.”

“Okay, get one off the shelf.”

“We’re sold out.”

“Okay, where’s my copy?”

“It’s not here.”

This is where I take out the sales receipt they emailed to me. 2 hours after I had reserved it.

“Well, that might explain this, then.”

“Oh. Someone sold it by mistake.”

No shit, Sherlock.

“Would you like to talk to the manager?”

“Well, you see, I drove half an hour to get here, and I need to get back to work before my lunch ends.”


The store manager.

So I returned to work, and at the end of the day phoned the store to talk to the manager.

“How can I help you?”

“You can’t. This is a courtesy call to tell you about your employees’ screwup.”

Explained the situation.

“Well, maybe someone found out you reserved it.”

Explained the logistical difficulties, and logical improbability, that someone hacked either my email, or their reservation system, just to pounce on a $50 game purchase.

“And even if they did find out, did they come in with my reservation? The one that you’re supposed to check, and then ask for ID before you sell it?” You know, dear reader, this reservation.

“Oh, right. Well is there anything I can do?”

“Can you have a copy of the game at my house within the hour so I don’t have to go home to explain to my kids that your through your employees’ incompetence, they aren’t going to get their game?”


“The game they wanted to take on their special March break trip to visit their favourite aunt so they could play it with her?”


“Or could you be there to deal with their disappointment that, through your employees’ incompetence, this won’t happen?”

“… Is there anywhere else you can get the game?”

“First, no. My wife already tried. Second, that’s kind of beside the point. You’re asking me if there’s anything more I can do to mitigate your mistakes. I already told you, there’s nothing you can do, I’m calling as a courtesy to let you know your employees screwed up.”

Now, dear reader, you’re probably thinking that the story ends here.

Think again.

Online Feedback

I used the feedback codes on the emailed receipt, for the purchase I didn’t make, to give feedback on my Best Buy online experience. Included in their response to my option of a great big fat “0” for recommending someone use Best Buy, was a request to contact me. I granted it, because I’d really like to discuss with customer service how shitty their customer service is.

They haven’t contacted me.

So, dear reader, Best Buy sucks. The last time I experienced this type of problem, right down to selling my reserved item (actually, my pre-purchased item) was with Circuit City, back when this type of problem was bankrupting the company.

So What About Posture?

So, what does this have to do with posture? This is, after all, a posture blog.


The process of switching my exercise routine over to yoga, intended for fixing my back, has helped me learn far better coping mechanisms for stress, anger and disappointment. I didn’t lose my temper. I didn’t even raise my voice. Neither of those things would have been the case 5 years ago.

And in addition…

I’m no longer vindictive. I don’t wish bankruptcy and loss of employment on the incompetent pukes at Best Buy. I don’t want to see the lying cheeseballs who asked if they could contact me only to ignore my problems, fired, lose their houses, and die in penury.

But I do want my sons to have their game. And I want them to know I’ve got their backs when things go sideways. To the first, I’ve bought it online. To the second, while they never saw or heard me calmly roasting Best Buy and its incompentence, and incompetents, here lies the abbreviated record of what I did.

So screw you Best Buy; you disappointed my children, you’re incompetent, you all around suck, and I’ll be shopping elsewhere from now on.