[771] An excursion.
So, Tuesday night Mike asked me if I would take him to Gamestop to pick up Dissidia. At first I was reluctant, because it was already past eight and I had work to do, but eventually I decided that okay, fine, I would.
This turned out to be the best idea ever.
So last night, after JCLC, Mike asked me if I would be willing to take him to get Dissidia from Gamestop. At first I was all "B|" because I didn't want to drive a long distance, but then he told me there was one in Hamilton and I was all "Oh! Okay 8D" 'cause Hamilton? That's nothing. I did a summer class in Hamilton over the summer; it takes twenty minutes to get there. So we hop in the car, Mike squiggling the entire way, and head down to the store. We go inside, Mike looks at the PSP display for a bit, then grabs one of the empty boxes they have there (he decided to get a new PSP while he was at it, because he had the first-gen one and the analog stick broke off it...), then heads to the front. I, meanwhile, wander around to check out the stuff they have for the DS, because hey, why not, leaving Mike by himself.
This is a mistake.
I look around, but nothing really catches my eye, save a Tangled DS case which makes me smile. I head back, and as I'm nearing the counter I see Mike walking back over to the PSP island-thinger. He picks up the box for the refurbished PSP, starts walking back, and-- "You don't need to bring the box up here!" the poor clerk says, exasperated. I instantly know that something good is up, and as Mike goes "Oh, really? Okay," and comes back toward the counter, I'm ready and waiting.
The clerk heads over to the other side of the behind-the-counter area--I don't know what he was getting. "What's up?" I ask Mike. "What were you going back there for?"
"I decided to get the refurb," he says.
I blink. "Really? Why?"
He shrugs. "It costs less."
"...by like. Ten dollars."
"Twenty!"
I raise my hands before me and wiggle them slightly, rolling my eyes--it's hard to describe, but it's what I do when being sarcastic. "Ooh, buddy!"
There is a short stand-off, where Mike just thinks about this, and then--"Hey, you know, actually, I've changed my mind!" he calls to the clerk. "I want the new one!" He reaches out to where the new PSP box is lying on the counter, nudging it forward slightly.
The poor clerk heaves a sigh, before coming back across to head toward the back to get the system. "You brought--" he says, seeing the box before Mike. "You didn't have to bring the box up to the front!"
"Well, I didn't know that!" Mike returns defensively. "I just--nyeeeeh!"
I'm already laughing. The clerk grabs up the box to swing by the PSP island-display-thinger on his way to the back room, then stops when he sees the refurbished PSP box. "And you didn't even put it back right!" he berates, picking it up and resetting everything. "Come on!"
"Heyyy! I don't work here! Just--go on and put it back or something. I don't know!" I find that here I should really note that neither Mike nor the clerk are actually being rude to each other--it's all just the general sort of ribbing that goes on at game stores.
Mike says something as he walks into the back. I forget exactly what it was, but it makes me think: "I wonder if these guys work on commissions," I muse aloud. "I mean, if they do, this guy's getting a good one from this."
The clerk comes back, the new PSP in hand. "All right," he says, setting it on the counter. "Is there anything else for you tonight?"
"Oh, I see your game, good sir," Mike says, shaking a finger at him in admonishment. "I know what you're trying to do!"
"...what?"
"You're trying to get me to spend more money! You're trying to get all my money out of me!"
The poor, bewildered clerk has no idea what's going on. I'm cracking up. "Do you guys work on commission?" I manage to ask him, grinning.
"I wish!" he exclaims. "I would make so much more than I do right now."
Fast-forward. The clerk finishes doing whatever it was he was doing, comes back over, and asks again, "Okay, so anything else I can get for you tonight?"
"Yeah," Mike says. "I want this, and then I have a preordered copy of Duodecim, but then I need to get another copy of Duodecim too. And I wanna buy the strategy guide as well."
The clerk stares at Mike for a minute--understandable, considering he'd rattled it all off pretty fast. "Repeat that?"
Mike does. "All right," the clerk says, and goes to get the requested games and the strategy guide (meanwhile, I make fun of Mike some more for being so excited--he's almost bouncing--and cackle and hint that maybe they're all sold out of Duodecim, and he won't be able to buy Nik a copy as promised). He comes back with the former, but guideless. "I think we may be all out of the strategy guide," he says, clicking a few keys on the computer. "We may have sold out; we usually only get one or two guides in at a time and they tend to go pretty quickly..."
I point and laugh at Mike, quite literally. "Hah!"
"Wait, what is it you're looking for?" The other clerk is still ringing up a customer, but has heard what we're saying.
"The Duodecim strategy guide," our clerk responds, eyes on the screen. "We don't have any, do we?"
"I don't think it's come out yet," his friend says, frowning.
"Well, when does it come out?" Mike asks, looking between them.
A couple more taps of the keys, and our clerk answers, "In two days."
Pause.
"Would you like to put down five dollars right now to guarantee yourself a copy the day it comes out?"
Pause.
Mike sighs, then relents: "Yeah, sure, go on and add it. How much does it cost, anyways; ten bucks?"
"Twenty."
This makes him reconsider. "...eh, never mind, then. I'll just pick it up later."
The clerk presses, "Are you sure? It's just five dollars, and then you've got a copy of it guaranteed, same day. If you put that money down, we are legally not able to sell it to anybody but you."
"But you never even checked my name for that!" Mike says, pointing at the two copies of Dissidia on the counter.
"I was getting to that!" the clerk fires back, without missing a beat. But that knocked him off-guard a bit, you can tell from his voice. I'm cracking up.
Mike considers it another moment, then shakes his head. "Nah, I'll come back for it later."
The clerk reaches for the sheet where the preorders are listed. "What's the game under?"
Mike tells him his name. As the clerk starts skimming the list, he repeats Mike's last name. Then, "I know your name now." I half-expected him to cackle.
"Well, that's not fair," Mike says. "I don't know yours. What's your name?"
"Uh..." He hesitates. It's enough. "Brian."
"No, it's not." Mike calls him out on his lie. "What's your actual name?"
"My name's Brian!" the clerk protests.
But Mike doesn't believe him. He looks over to the other clerk, who is shutting his register down, and points at our clerk. "Hey. Hey, you. What's his name?"
"Isn't he wearing his name tag?"
"He's got it turned around!" Dear gods, if I wasn't looking at him, I would have thought he was pouting from his tone of voice. "He's got it tucked into his shirt."
"Dude, tell him," our clerk urges. "My name's Brian, isn't it?"
"What?" After a moment, the other clerk catches on. "Oh, right! Yeah, his name's Brian."
By this point, "Brian" has found Mike's name on the preorder list and marked it off. "All right. Is there anything else you need, any other games you'd like to preorder?"
"Yeah," I crack. "He wants to preorder every copy of--"
Unfortunately I'm laughing too hard to finish what I'm saying; I break away from the counter and do a small circle back to it. As I'm doing this, Mike asks the clerk about any Final Fantasies coming out in the next year. Returning, I say to Mike, "I was going to tell him you wanted to preorder every copy of the My Little Ponies game whenever it comes out!"
"Yeah, don't do that."
"Okay!" The clerk interrupts us, having located the appropriate titles on his sheet. "It looks like Final Fantasy XIV will be out--"
"Yeah, but that's already out for the PC." Mike shakes his head. "And the main servers are down for that anyways."
"Oh, really?" the clerk's friend questions. Cue tangent. The clerk reads off a couple more Final Fantasy titles, then gives us one that's somewhat related (similar plot elements).
"Yeah, but that's not a Final Fantasy."
"Well, it's similar to it, so--"
"Yeah, but I didn't ask for similar to Final Fantasy, did I?" Mike is grinning at the clerk; he obviously isn't meaning this to be mean. He just enjoys being a brat as much as I do XD
The clerk stares at Mike for a minute. "You know, sir," he says, "I really don't like you very much right now."
I'm sure he wasn't serious, but I'm not so sure he was entirely joking, either. He looked like he was amused, but at the same time a little bit exasperated too. "Do you want me to punch him?" I volunteer, grinning.
The clerk's focus shifts to me. "Would you, please?"
"Sure thing!" And one-two, punches to the arm and I'm still oh-so-very-amused by this entire thing.
"Brian" goes back to the list. "Oh, here's--" I'll admit, I don't recall the game. "It's coming out next year."
Mike stares at him for a moment. "Yeah, but that's not 2011, is it?"
"Oh, come--it's the first day of 2012! It's--"
"It's not coming out the first day!" the clerk's friend chimes in, laughing. "They never come out the first--"
At the same time, Mike's going, "Yeah, no. That's just what they say when they don't know when it's coming out, but it'll be out that year!"
Perhaps it's because he was being attacked from two sides now, but our clerk drops the subject crazy fast. "You know what? I want you out of my store. $196.14; swipe your card!" He points emphatically at the swipe machine on the counter; I start laughing all over again.
Mike swipes his card. "So, man. Come on, aren't you going to tell me your name?"
"I told you, my name's Brian!"
"Yeah, but that's not your real name."
"It's one of my names," the guy says, reaching over to click through to where Mike has to sign.
"You know," his friend suggests, "you could always just, like, reach over the counter and grab him by his lapels so you could grab his tag."
Mike won't do this--he wouldn't actually do this. But he makes like he's going to, raising both hands and reaching out. The clerk takes a step back, holding up his left hand to cross in front of his body and point toward the ceiling. "There're cameras there," he threatens. "You touch me, and I'll sue your ass."
But he's not prepared for his friend, who has stepped behind him. His friend reaches out quickly, trying to grab the nametag and pull it out from where it's tucked inbetween two buttons of his button-down shirt. He would have managed it, too, but it gets caught and "Brian" manages to take hold of it to keep it from being pulled the rest of the way out. "I'll need to see your card and your ID," he tells Mike, who fishes them out and hands them over.
Then the crowning moment of glory.
"So," Mike proposes, "if I took you out and bought you a drink, would you tell me your name then?"
I lose it. I have to walk away from the register--not in a circle, this time, but almost all the way to the back wall and back. As I'm walking away, I hear the clerk, absolutely incredulous: "Did you just come on to me?"
"Yes, he did!" I crow, still laughing my ass off. I get back to the register to see that the guy's friend is also cracking up, and the clerk still can't believe what he's just been asked.
"I did not! I just wanna know his name," Mike is protesting. "He knows mine..."
But his words fall on deaf ears--he's not living that one down. Ever.
We walk out of the store a few minutes later, prizes in hand, me still giggling slightly and Mike pouting-only-not 'cause we never actually did get the clerk's name. We get in the car, jump onto the highway, and head toward home.
And then Mike turns to me. "You know," he says to me. "We're gonna have to go through all this again when the PSP 2 comes out."
I belatedly realized last night that the clerk's name is probably on the receipt.
This turned out to be the best idea ever.
So last night, after JCLC, Mike asked me if I would be willing to take him to get Dissidia from Gamestop. At first I was all "B|" because I didn't want to drive a long distance, but then he told me there was one in Hamilton and I was all "Oh! Okay 8D" 'cause Hamilton? That's nothing. I did a summer class in Hamilton over the summer; it takes twenty minutes to get there. So we hop in the car, Mike squiggling the entire way, and head down to the store. We go inside, Mike looks at the PSP display for a bit, then grabs one of the empty boxes they have there (he decided to get a new PSP while he was at it, because he had the first-gen one and the analog stick broke off it...), then heads to the front. I, meanwhile, wander around to check out the stuff they have for the DS, because hey, why not, leaving Mike by himself.
This is a mistake.
I look around, but nothing really catches my eye, save a Tangled DS case which makes me smile. I head back, and as I'm nearing the counter I see Mike walking back over to the PSP island-thinger. He picks up the box for the refurbished PSP, starts walking back, and-- "You don't need to bring the box up here!" the poor clerk says, exasperated. I instantly know that something good is up, and as Mike goes "Oh, really? Okay," and comes back toward the counter, I'm ready and waiting.
The clerk heads over to the other side of the behind-the-counter area--I don't know what he was getting. "What's up?" I ask Mike. "What were you going back there for?"
"I decided to get the refurb," he says.
I blink. "Really? Why?"
He shrugs. "It costs less."
"...by like. Ten dollars."
"Twenty!"
I raise my hands before me and wiggle them slightly, rolling my eyes--it's hard to describe, but it's what I do when being sarcastic. "Ooh, buddy!"
There is a short stand-off, where Mike just thinks about this, and then--"Hey, you know, actually, I've changed my mind!" he calls to the clerk. "I want the new one!" He reaches out to where the new PSP box is lying on the counter, nudging it forward slightly.
The poor clerk heaves a sigh, before coming back across to head toward the back to get the system. "You brought--" he says, seeing the box before Mike. "You didn't have to bring the box up to the front!"
"Well, I didn't know that!" Mike returns defensively. "I just--nyeeeeh!"
I'm already laughing. The clerk grabs up the box to swing by the PSP island-display-thinger on his way to the back room, then stops when he sees the refurbished PSP box. "And you didn't even put it back right!" he berates, picking it up and resetting everything. "Come on!"
"Heyyy! I don't work here! Just--go on and put it back or something. I don't know!" I find that here I should really note that neither Mike nor the clerk are actually being rude to each other--it's all just the general sort of ribbing that goes on at game stores.
Mike says something as he walks into the back. I forget exactly what it was, but it makes me think: "I wonder if these guys work on commissions," I muse aloud. "I mean, if they do, this guy's getting a good one from this."
The clerk comes back, the new PSP in hand. "All right," he says, setting it on the counter. "Is there anything else for you tonight?"
"Oh, I see your game, good sir," Mike says, shaking a finger at him in admonishment. "I know what you're trying to do!"
"...what?"
"You're trying to get me to spend more money! You're trying to get all my money out of me!"
The poor, bewildered clerk has no idea what's going on. I'm cracking up. "Do you guys work on commission?" I manage to ask him, grinning.
"I wish!" he exclaims. "I would make so much more than I do right now."
Fast-forward. The clerk finishes doing whatever it was he was doing, comes back over, and asks again, "Okay, so anything else I can get for you tonight?"
"Yeah," Mike says. "I want this, and then I have a preordered copy of Duodecim, but then I need to get another copy of Duodecim too. And I wanna buy the strategy guide as well."
The clerk stares at Mike for a minute--understandable, considering he'd rattled it all off pretty fast. "Repeat that?"
Mike does. "All right," the clerk says, and goes to get the requested games and the strategy guide (meanwhile, I make fun of Mike some more for being so excited--he's almost bouncing--and cackle and hint that maybe they're all sold out of Duodecim, and he won't be able to buy Nik a copy as promised). He comes back with the former, but guideless. "I think we may be all out of the strategy guide," he says, clicking a few keys on the computer. "We may have sold out; we usually only get one or two guides in at a time and they tend to go pretty quickly..."
I point and laugh at Mike, quite literally. "Hah!"
"Wait, what is it you're looking for?" The other clerk is still ringing up a customer, but has heard what we're saying.
"The Duodecim strategy guide," our clerk responds, eyes on the screen. "We don't have any, do we?"
"I don't think it's come out yet," his friend says, frowning.
"Well, when does it come out?" Mike asks, looking between them.
A couple more taps of the keys, and our clerk answers, "In two days."
Pause.
"Would you like to put down five dollars right now to guarantee yourself a copy the day it comes out?"
Pause.
Mike sighs, then relents: "Yeah, sure, go on and add it. How much does it cost, anyways; ten bucks?"
"Twenty."
This makes him reconsider. "...eh, never mind, then. I'll just pick it up later."
The clerk presses, "Are you sure? It's just five dollars, and then you've got a copy of it guaranteed, same day. If you put that money down, we are legally not able to sell it to anybody but you."
"But you never even checked my name for that!" Mike says, pointing at the two copies of Dissidia on the counter.
"I was getting to that!" the clerk fires back, without missing a beat. But that knocked him off-guard a bit, you can tell from his voice. I'm cracking up.
Mike considers it another moment, then shakes his head. "Nah, I'll come back for it later."
The clerk reaches for the sheet where the preorders are listed. "What's the game under?"
Mike tells him his name. As the clerk starts skimming the list, he repeats Mike's last name. Then, "I know your name now." I half-expected him to cackle.
"Well, that's not fair," Mike says. "I don't know yours. What's your name?"
"Uh..." He hesitates. It's enough. "Brian."
"No, it's not." Mike calls him out on his lie. "What's your actual name?"
"My name's Brian!" the clerk protests.
But Mike doesn't believe him. He looks over to the other clerk, who is shutting his register down, and points at our clerk. "Hey. Hey, you. What's his name?"
"Isn't he wearing his name tag?"
"He's got it turned around!" Dear gods, if I wasn't looking at him, I would have thought he was pouting from his tone of voice. "He's got it tucked into his shirt."
"Dude, tell him," our clerk urges. "My name's Brian, isn't it?"
"What?" After a moment, the other clerk catches on. "Oh, right! Yeah, his name's Brian."
By this point, "Brian" has found Mike's name on the preorder list and marked it off. "All right. Is there anything else you need, any other games you'd like to preorder?"
"Yeah," I crack. "He wants to preorder every copy of--"
Unfortunately I'm laughing too hard to finish what I'm saying; I break away from the counter and do a small circle back to it. As I'm doing this, Mike asks the clerk about any Final Fantasies coming out in the next year. Returning, I say to Mike, "I was going to tell him you wanted to preorder every copy of the My Little Ponies game whenever it comes out!"
"Yeah, don't do that."
"Okay!" The clerk interrupts us, having located the appropriate titles on his sheet. "It looks like Final Fantasy XIV will be out--"
"Yeah, but that's already out for the PC." Mike shakes his head. "And the main servers are down for that anyways."
"Oh, really?" the clerk's friend questions. Cue tangent. The clerk reads off a couple more Final Fantasy titles, then gives us one that's somewhat related (similar plot elements).
"Yeah, but that's not a Final Fantasy."
"Well, it's similar to it, so--"
"Yeah, but I didn't ask for similar to Final Fantasy, did I?" Mike is grinning at the clerk; he obviously isn't meaning this to be mean. He just enjoys being a brat as much as I do XD
The clerk stares at Mike for a minute. "You know, sir," he says, "I really don't like you very much right now."
I'm sure he wasn't serious, but I'm not so sure he was entirely joking, either. He looked like he was amused, but at the same time a little bit exasperated too. "Do you want me to punch him?" I volunteer, grinning.
The clerk's focus shifts to me. "Would you, please?"
"Sure thing!" And one-two, punches to the arm and I'm still oh-so-very-amused by this entire thing.
"Brian" goes back to the list. "Oh, here's--" I'll admit, I don't recall the game. "It's coming out next year."
Mike stares at him for a moment. "Yeah, but that's not 2011, is it?"
"Oh, come--it's the first day of 2012! It's--"
"It's not coming out the first day!" the clerk's friend chimes in, laughing. "They never come out the first--"
At the same time, Mike's going, "Yeah, no. That's just what they say when they don't know when it's coming out, but it'll be out that year!"
Perhaps it's because he was being attacked from two sides now, but our clerk drops the subject crazy fast. "You know what? I want you out of my store. $196.14; swipe your card!" He points emphatically at the swipe machine on the counter; I start laughing all over again.
Mike swipes his card. "So, man. Come on, aren't you going to tell me your name?"
"I told you, my name's Brian!"
"Yeah, but that's not your real name."
"It's one of my names," the guy says, reaching over to click through to where Mike has to sign.
"You know," his friend suggests, "you could always just, like, reach over the counter and grab him by his lapels so you could grab his tag."
Mike won't do this--he wouldn't actually do this. But he makes like he's going to, raising both hands and reaching out. The clerk takes a step back, holding up his left hand to cross in front of his body and point toward the ceiling. "There're cameras there," he threatens. "You touch me, and I'll sue your ass."
But he's not prepared for his friend, who has stepped behind him. His friend reaches out quickly, trying to grab the nametag and pull it out from where it's tucked inbetween two buttons of his button-down shirt. He would have managed it, too, but it gets caught and "Brian" manages to take hold of it to keep it from being pulled the rest of the way out. "I'll need to see your card and your ID," he tells Mike, who fishes them out and hands them over.
Then the crowning moment of glory.
"So," Mike proposes, "if I took you out and bought you a drink, would you tell me your name then?"
I lose it. I have to walk away from the register--not in a circle, this time, but almost all the way to the back wall and back. As I'm walking away, I hear the clerk, absolutely incredulous: "Did you just come on to me?"
"Yes, he did!" I crow, still laughing my ass off. I get back to the register to see that the guy's friend is also cracking up, and the clerk still can't believe what he's just been asked.
"I did not! I just wanna know his name," Mike is protesting. "He knows mine..."
But his words fall on deaf ears--he's not living that one down. Ever.
We walk out of the store a few minutes later, prizes in hand, me still giggling slightly and Mike pouting-only-not 'cause we never actually did get the clerk's name. We get in the car, jump onto the highway, and head toward home.
And then Mike turns to me. "You know," he says to me. "We're gonna have to go through all this again when the PSP 2 comes out."
I belatedly realized last night that the clerk's name is probably on the receipt.