Monday Morning Montaigne: “Work can wait till tomorrow”

I’m swamped at work, dear reader, and the essay that I read this weekend — Of practice — is requiring an awful lot of thought. Fortunately, a few essays earlier was one entitled, “Work can wait till tomorrow,” so I feel justified in giving you Tuesday Morning Montaigne this week.

Talk amongst yourselves.

UPDATE: I ain’t even gonna try. I’ve got WAY too much to get done on the magazine this week, so Montaigne’s going to have to wait till next (holiday) Monday.

Best Invasion of Privacy

Last week, my Sirius radio went kaput, the result of a frayed wire from the antenna. I was faced with two choices: buy a new antenna ($40) or get a new radio ($139-$149). (The third choice, listening to terrestrial radio, was no option at all.) Given that the existing radio was pretty old and clunky, and had no car-kit (it was sitting a mass of wires above the dashboard), I figured I’d get a new radio.

My first stop was the Radio Shack near my office. It had such misleading price labels that even the clerk who helped me couldn’t understand why the unit was ringing up at $149 instead of the $119 on the display. A manager explained that the tiny letters “MIR” on the wall display meant there was a $30 Mail-In-Rebate, which would get the price down to $119 eventually. I laughed at the manager and left the store.

That evening, I stopped at Best Buy and found the radio, which was listed at $139, with no rebate. The cashier asked me for my phone number. I said, “No, thanks.”

She repeated her question. I told her that I wasn’t going to give Best Buy my phone number. She said that she couldn’t process the transaction without it. “That’s too bad,” I said, and walked for the exit.

The security guard told me to have a good evening. I said, “It would’ve been better if I’d been allowed to buy something just now.” She looked puzzled, and I said, “Can you get me a manager, please?”

She called one over, and I explained what had transpired: “I tried to buy a Sirius unit, and your cashier refused to process it without my phone number.”

“That’s not our policy, sir. That’s policy from Sirius.”

“You are full of shit and your store just lost a $140 purchase,” I told her, before walking out.

That night, I looked up the unit on Circuit City’s website: $149 with a $30 rebate. I called a local store, and asked a rep if they had it in stock. He said they did. Then I asked, “If I come in there to buy it, and I don’t give you a phone number or zip code or anything, is that going to block my purchase?”

“Excuse me?”

“If I don’t want to give out my phone number, are you still able to process the transaction?”

“Sure! We ask for your phone number to help you out,” he said. “If you have a problem with the product and lose the receipt, we can look it up with your phone number.”

“But it’s not mandatory?”

“No.”

I described the episode at Best Buy, and he said, “Seriously? They wouldn’t let you buy it?”

“Nope. So if you’re being straight with me, your store just got my business.”

“Great!”

* * *

All of which leads to a couple of thoughts:

Radio Shack has not shaken my belief that it’s actually a massive cocaine-money-laundering front.

Best Buy’s marketing & data-mining policies are bad news.

Circuit City may be going out of business within a year, but I’ll give them a shot. Also, my laziness has paid off, since they just dropped the price for the unit to $129 today (in addition that $30 rebate).

I really should’ve just bought that Sirius unit on Amazon when mine first broke. It would’ve been a lot less stressful, with a transparent and low price ($118).

Sure, Amazon already has all my buying info, but I figure my purchases there are so chaotic that they’ll never assemble a useful marketing profile for me.

Go, aap!

Been a long time since I had an ape escape story to share with you. (It’s the only reason I have an Apes category on this blog.) Bokito, a 400-lb. gorilla at a zoo in Rotterdam, busted out and tried to snack on a woman’s arm:

“He got over the moat, which in itself is remarkable, because gorillas can’t swim,” Dorrestijn said. “He got onto a path for visitors and started running and went at full speed through tables and diners at the Oranje restaurant.”

They probably should have just lured him into a coffeehouse, gotten him baked, and walked him back to his pen after making a side trip to a convenience store for some snacks.

Track Record

Alan Bacchus at Daily Film Dose offers us a list of great long tracking shots in cinema (with clips)! Because there are 10 bazillion commenters, he’s supplemented the post since it first went up two weeks ago. There are some great ones, so if you like the long tracking shot — I’ve been a sucker for them since I saw The Player when I was in college — check it out.

Unfortunately, this Kylie video doesn’t exactly qualify, but it is ingenious: