when 2 become 1.

... but it's to be said that the most over-rated of all and sundry has got to be electronics salespeople. you know, them self-important, pompous motherfuckers who always seem to be absorbed in the most fascinating subject of the universe: tom. if the absorb-ee happens to be called tom, that is. i mean, they're always positively swarming you when you will have nothing to do with them. while never being around to help when you really do need them, just standing behind their counters and smiling to themselves at how small their dicks are, waiting for fumbling you to fuck up and damage something in the process of examining it whilst not knowing that every single gadget in the store has a self-destruct button which happens to be the most ostentatious and sensitive one, the triggering of which by even a brush of your shirt sleeve will create a psychic boom which will be all that's needed to galvanise all uniformed personnel within a 3-mile radius into action, setting them sprinting to you and pressing that object and one of the 23,000 cards on the shelves bearing the reminder saying 'whatever you fuck up is yours, you motherfucking piece of crud' in your face. perhaps the guiding deity of the occupation is edward a. murphy.

so i bought 2 expensive mp3 players in the span of 3 days. on the first day, i'd gone to the store in hopes of getting a replacement for my md player which is all but considered a fossil by most of the human population today. and was promptly reminded of the fact that they're defunct. so i was faced with 2 choices: return home empty-handed and endure another music-less weekend, or get player of another nature there and then knowing bugger-all about anything other than the gadget equivalent of making fire with rocks. but of course, as they say, 'music soothes even the savage beast'. or should i say 'only music can soothe the savagery and stop all the carnage delivered by the psychotic beast oh please help stop him'. and as far as my savage meter is concerned it's positively reaching the extreme that screams 'fuck'. so i thought, what the hey, let's hear what this flaming homosexual of a mat has to say. so he proceeds to inform me, informatively, that what i absolutely need in my life to set it all straight and get me a good job and ensuring a thriving sex life, among other things; is a player that has 5 MEGABYTES of space. so i tried politely to correct him by speaking about 5 GIGABYTES but he corrects me. until he starts whipping out the products and reads off them acting like he's been saying GIGABYTES all his miserable fucking (literally) life.

needless to say, the one he badgered me to get was positively fucked up, after i'd gotten home and fiddled with it and done research on it on the second day. so i went back to the store on the third day and begged for an exchange. with my sob story down pat and all. so i rattled it all off to the selfsame member of the 'brotherhood of the purple underpants', starting from how my gramma'd been struck by a mysterious ailment, about how my future wife'd been struck by a mysterious ailment, about how the rest of the world'd been struck by a mysterious ailment; and that the only one thing left to do to prevent armageddon was to take the fucked up piece of scrap metal back and grant me another superior one. the man listened, got totally confused by my second word, but still had his last riposte - "but it's used," he declares triumphantly. oh no oh fuck i'd forgotten to take this into consideration. so i had to cook up some more details about how the use of that thing would interfere with the proper working of the gps systems the world over and lead to catastrophic pandemonium, and the only thing left to do was to force it off me however much we both loathed things to be thus.

he finally agreed. and asserts that he was doing me a favour mumbling on and on about how i'd used that piece of fuck. after informing me that i'd gotten 8 songs on it. i don't know what happened to the other 242 i was scrolling through on my way there. but i wasn't about to argue. i mean, hey, he's the one who's making a living knowing such things, and i was but an md player-loser-user. and cos i really didn't fancy a visit by the security guard who first eyeballed me and then flashed me a smile on my way into the store looking all ready to give me a grease down and a shiatsu.

and the crowd goes wild.