Radio Sh*t


                                                                    

I’m going to start this day with a reflection on RadioShack. I hate RadioShack with a hatered that is rarely witnessed by many who know me. If someone was to udder words like crap, shit, stink pile, poo, junk, dump, pewtrid, funk or sounds like blap, ploop, or shlllapsspspsp, the first image in my head would be the RadioShack sign. Why I feel this way is primarely because of a Christmas present I recieved in 1985. It was a silver Ferarri remote controlled car and it was the most spectacular thing I had ever seen. You can tell by weight and size of a wrapped gift that it has to be cool. Rectangular packages leave out the possibility of clothes or books so it was kept for last to unwrap and to a seven year old it was not a disapointment
I could hardly wait to pull that thing from the box, put in the 6 D baterries and tear up the driveway with the Italian dream machine. But little did I know it was bought from the one store that sells only electronic dog shit. When the car was prepped and charged and I was dressed for the inclimate, damp day outside, it was time to test drive.
  I remember approximatly ten full minutes of remote control fun and then it came to rest, rolling out of control against the garage door. With a mechanical inclination of a seven year old I feverishly banged the remote. There had to be a simple answer to why the car is not responding! So with mouth agape, arms limp and a slouching stride I walked to the disabled car and examined the undercarriage. I can’t remember what I was looking for but I had a gut feeling it was bad. I needed to take to Mr. Fix-it. You know…Dad.
  With careful inspection my father was too perplexed with why the car decided to shit the bed so soon. He expected it to last at least a week. He turned to the one avenue I would never and that is the instruction sheet. This led to my worst fears and that was the long list of what the car could not drive on and if you own it then the joke was on you. Turns out the car could not operate on pavement, lanolium, carpet, grass, dirt or anything else besides a wooden track. Dad looked at me with sympathy and we decided to bring it back to RadioShit on the most dreaded boxing day to see if there was a way to return the car. This is the beginning of my hatered towards RadioShack. But I was cool for now. I had other toys to break.
  So we got up early and took off to Perimeter mall. My memory is fuzzy because I probably blocked out most of that day but I’m sure it was a mad house. With the car back in the original box my Dad and I walked into the RadioShack store to stand in line behind other equally pissed off customers. He thought this was a great platform for me, as a seven year old, to gain some real adult expirience and ask for a Ferarri exchange by myself. Now that I think about it he probably was banking on a cuteness factor to make the exchange less painful. Either way, cuteness or life lesson, it backfired and the bitch clerk took one look at me and decided to make me an example.
 

Now to this day I am positive that all RadioShack emloyees ar given a training handbook full of Nazi propaganda. They take great joy in selling little kids shit for Christmas presents, have them go through the pains of the present breaking and forcing them to come back to the store to recieve an ass chewing. Why I believe this? It only makes sense to me because it happened to me. The snot, chick employee assessed the situation before her and in a loud voice said, “Let me guess, you didn’t read the instuctions and now you want a new one?”


  I remember my ears turning hot and humiliation set in. With a scornful look she snatched the box out of my arms and went to the “employee only” section. I looked for my Dad but he was standing by the cassette players lost in geek world. Before Icould go to him for protection the “employee only” door kicked open and the female Gerbles waddeled her way to the counter. She wasn’t done with her power talk. Not by a long shot.
  “I am going to let you exchange this but I had better not see you back here whining about how it is broken.” I hope she felt good having a power trip on a seven year old. Maybe it was the fact she had to work on the holidays or I was customer number 3,000 with an exchange but I feel she saw me as an outlet for her shitty RadioShack customer service skill.
  Walking out the store my Dad peeled away from HiFi extacy and saw that mission was accomplished. I was still in shock from having my ass handed to me. We made it to about the parking lot before I broke down in tears. I was a protected kid growing up. My folks never yelled at me and my elementary school was something from Nickelodeon so getting chewed out by a stranger really shook me up. It must have because I am writing about it 22 years later. Dad didn’t really think that much about it. We got into the car and went to Ihop for “feel better pancakes.”
  By the time we got home the feelings of shame and embarasment subsided and the excitement of a new remote Ferarri took center stage. But when I took the box from the bag the bitch from the store had salt for me wounds. Istead of a shiny ass kicking ass kicker sports car I got a remote controled pickup truck. That’s all I’m going to say about that.
  I have not been to a RadioShack since. I refuse to shop there and I even tell others to boycott the company. My visceral hatered towards RadioShack will never be squelched and everytime a new store opens a puppy dies. So up yours RadioShack. Up yours.

11 Comments

  1. Billy…,may I be brutally frank? Or even harsh Ron or demanding Bill?

    I think Radio Shack in this case…and pardon my expletive…deserved the Grudge Fucking it got. You showed them.

    You’re father taught you a great life lesson that day. Being handed your juvenile ass by a raging Shemale was character building.

    And at Christmas no less.

    I gotta hand it to you. The whole experience could’ve SOOOO gone the other way. How the whole experience didn’t turn you into a Jew is beyond me.

    Oy.

    XX00,
    LK

  2. My best friend calls RadioShack RatShack (or RatShit)

    He has a story about them too, he bought a printer cable, and specifically asked if it was the right one, and if it wasn’t could he return it. The woman said yes and yes. He came back with the cable because it wasn’t the right one and she said oh your going to have to buy a another one you can’t exchange the cable. WTF?!?! Where did she learn her customer service? Maybe she was so desperate for money coming in (it was the owner of the store) she lied. Maybe that is why she scammed him. He hates going in there but I have gone in there a couple of times to look at phone parts and stuff. But yeah I feel sorry for kids that get toys from there I think that is the same level as Kmart as far as cheapness. I know a couple of my cousins one year from my Grandma got handheld games from there. I told her not to but she said eh, better then nothing. No nothing is better then Ratshack.

    See you later Billy. (for some reason this last couple of days I have been wanting to call you bro LOL but I don’t think we are there yet, and I have a bit of a beef with you)

  3. yes, bill, i hate that place as well. Good for your dad, he did right by you, so at an early age you knew the evil that is the Radio Shack.

  4. I think I am going to have to boycott Radio Shack now, what a horrible woman to take out her frustration with her minimum wage job on a child at Christmas.

    On a different note, has anyone ever had a GOOD experience with a remote control vehicle of any kind. Every one I ever owned turned out to be a disappointment.

  5. I remember a specific comment a Radio Shack Employee told me once.

    “Here’s a power supply that is rated for your Cable Modem’s needs.
    But it might not work.
    Actually, there’s a chance it could FRY YOUR MODEM.
    But that ‘s only a 30% chance.
    Maybe 20%.
    But if it fries it, it’s NOT OUR FAULT.
    Because I warned you.”

  6. actually bc3263827 my cousin builds RC cars as a hobby and if you are nice with them (don’t purposely crash them into walls) then they run pretty good. He spends almost 200 bucks on them (or more) so yeah the 20 dollar ones, not so good, the fancier ones, yes. Like the old saying you get what you pay for. It drains the battery but those cars he has built can go pretty darn fast! He takes them sometimes to a local race track actually to have more driving room and he paints the parts himself.

  7. Actually I asked him about his story today lol I got it wrong.

    He was sold a used printer cable, he went back to exchange it, and the lady said where is the receipt, and he said you didn’t give me a receipt and she said no exchange without a receipt.

  8. My best friend works there as a second job to pay off student loans…and he hates it more than you.

  9. I’ve never understood why people shop at RadioShack. I feel it’s an even more relevant question in 2007 when electronics are easily accessible with higher quality and cheaper prices at virtually every department store.

    I got a a r/c car from them as well back in the 80s. But mine was a silver Porsche. It ended up broken as well, but it wasn’t RadioShack that failed me. *I* failed myself. For some ignorant reason lost in time, I decided that pesky antenna just had to go. So I cut it. A remote control car doesn’t work without that pesky antenna. =(

    Even as a child, the *idea* of an exclusively electronics store was cool, but I always knew that it was always more of a novelty shop because everything they sell, at it’s core, sucks. That’s the kind of place that charges $50 for a control car, but the controller is ATTACHED to the car through a short cord and it can only go forward or reverse with a slight curve, but no actual wheel turning ability. I should know. I had one of those too. >=(

  10. Oh no! I had no idea about the puppies!!! Now I’m pissed…
    I’ll admit, I’ve never been to a Crap Shack, and now I can say that I never WILL. Poor puppies… 😦

  11. I hope Radio Scraps goes out of business.


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