Sunday, March 29, 2009
In Lieu of My Brother's Blog
As many of you know, I work at Gamestop. Since my freshman year of college. I didn't expect to leave and come back so many times, but I've come to terms. I like the people I work with, I enjoy the atmosphere (most of the time), and I also like the perks (video games everywhere, playing video games when it's not busy, swag, and getting to talk about video games).
However, the above image is a close image to what type of cheap-ass-shit-eating-piece-of-metal-that-actually-spreads-dirt-for-a-business vacuum we use. It is also the bane of my existence at Gamestop.
The fights we've had. There's no doubt, either--it always wins.
And so, this is how I win. By grading it via like my brother.
I will admit that there are some slight differences from this vacuum to the one I use at Gamestop. First, the one at Gamestop sucks my soul from me as well as air. However, it also has a bag instead of that hard plastic, and is black. The only other difference is that the plug is, amazingly, 21st century.
The convenience of it is that after you bend multiple times to unwrap the ungodly cord, then plug it in, you don't have to bend again to turn in on. Instead, you place your foot on a large, round black button, then press with nice pressure to turn on.
Though vintage looking, it looks hardy, ready for work. The grip of the handle says, "You won't want to let go." The mouth of the vacuum seems to be all action. It has attitude.
With all it's simplicity, even a zombie brought to life could understand how to make this baby purr. Me-ow.
This is where I say that looks are deceiving. Very deceiving. Deceiving in a way that has you look at a guy across the way whilst it's raining, your glasses fogged and wet. You think, "Gosh, look at his hair! And the way he holds himself! Even John Krasinski can't compare!" Then you decide to get closer, let him see you. Perhaps this is the moment! The one every woman has waited for, the proof that true, instant love exists!
And you get this.
If that's true love, I'm a nun. Well, converting to one, anyway.
Everything plugs in just fine. Never a shock, and always smooth. And when you turn the piece-of-degrading-manure-as-it-lives machine, it doesn't even pause, as if to give you hope.
It's the movements that really confuse it, as it would any vacuum. They really should come up with something that doesn't spit out the dirt it just picked up when moving forward and back. Oh, wait? Is that the definition of a vacuum? Then I wonder what the definition of this would be? A lying-air-befouling-slice-of-hell? On wheels? Sounds about right.
As it moves forward and around, it picks up the salt crystals customers brought in. The dirt and dust that's collected for the past week, even month at times. You smile as you look at the small area of carpet, void of the pesky lint that collects from people emptying their pockets of money to buy an over-priced video game. And as you step forward, you hear a small crunch under your feet.
Looking at your shoes, you realize that every time that pus-gurgling-boil moved back, all of the dirt shot back at you as if it were confetti at a surprise birthday party. Only the party was a bad act at a talent show. And the confetti was the black paint someone threw on you in order to embarrass you off the stage so the world would never see your interpretation of "My Humps" by Fergie (as if it weren't terrible enough as it is).
This vacuum couldn't pick up ass if it were a donkey.
I at first thought that this piece-of-shit vacuum was the same one from my earlier days at Gamestop. It looked the same, felt the same, cleaned the same... When I mentioned to a co-worker a few months back about us investing in a new one, he laughed and said they'd replaced it just that year.
After much consideration, this is my conclusion, the only concept that must be correct: many years ago, in the creation of a corporation that would not only make millions of dollars, but help some gamers save a few bucks in the process, the leader of the shop saw an ad in the paper for a vacuum. "New!" it said, in a "Pow!" "Smack!" kinda way. "It's the best! The only vacuum that is not only fashionable, but says 'I know how to vacuum!'!" The GM of the organization about fainted from those words and thought, "I won't buy just one, but a whole shop filled with them. Nay! I'll buy the company itself!"
After the company crashed, as the vacuums turned out to be total crap, the penny-pincher corporation we know Gamestop to be couldn't bare to toss what he spent so much money on in the past.
Thus, every time a vacuum sputters to its death (because we're forced to continue to use them, despite it not working otherwise), the replacement comes from a warehouse, far away. Probably in Area-51, next to an arc.
The Bottom Line
Buy a freaking new vacuum, Mike.
Random Fact: Today, Hoover is probably best known for its Wind Tunnel line of vacuums, which includes uprights, bagless and steam extractors. Sounds fancy. (Hint, hint).