Border's is Dead to Me
I'll warn you up front. This post is very, very ranty. I don't care if "ranty" isn't an actual word. It describes this post.
So a while back I used frequent flier miles to pick up a subscription to The Economist. Strong move on my part. The rag has been great. The depth of coverage is fantastic, and it's really healthy to have a non-American view of the news. Good reporting on Asia, Africa and South America. And no particular lean toward either political party.
The best aspect of the magazine is that it has really challenged my views on the free market. Socialized government has sounded appealing to me over the past decade or so, but now I wrestle with the two paradigms. Clearly, that is a week's worth of posts in and of itself, so we'll just leave it at that.
Imagine my disappointment this week when I get an unexpected package from the United States Postal Service. A small clear bag, boldly stating "We Care". I never accused the postal service of not caring. But clearly, they felt the need to explain themselves since the contents of the package included the cover of this week's Economist. Only the cover. The rest was laying helplessly in some street, or on the floor of the postoffice or at the back of some postal vehicle.
Look, I completely understand that the post office can't possibly bat a thousand. Stuff is going to get mixed up. We're cool. But dang. Of all the weeks to not get The Economist. You know. Only the week that hosted the biggest financial crash of my lifetime.
Still no worries. I read a couple of articles online, but really wanted a hard copy. I had a Border's gift card, and figured I'd swing by to pick up a copy there. But following a 5-minute search of the magazine rack, I was still empty handed. No copies to be found. So I sought out a customer service representative. She verified that they did indeed carry the magazine, but surmised that they were sold out. Fair enough. I could easily imagine people flooding into Borders to get The Economist so they could actually hear about a good idea for fixing the economy. Clearly, the Executive and Legislative brances of our governement don't know how to find those.
I just proceed to the checkout to get a book instead. Slowest...line...ever. The one checkout guy spends five minutes arguing with some lady about why he can't give her the educator discount. So I wait and wait and wait. Finally it's my turn. I pay for my book. I start walking out.
Whaddya know? A rack filled with The Economist is sitting up by the last register as you walk out of the store. No wonder their weren't any in the store.
I pick one up. I glance back at the line. 5 people. Still just the single slowest checkout guy in the history of book selling. No bueno.
But then, a glimmer of hope. This manager is at the register right in front of me with another employee. The sign says the register is closed, but I ask politely if he could just sell me the mag really quick.
"Sorry man. I'm training someone right now."
Seriously, bro. No way am I getting back in that line. I wince. I put the magazine back. I say, "Thanks". I walk out the door.
And that is the story of the last time I ever bought something at Borders.
Renew and Restore
So a while back I used frequent flier miles to pick up a subscription to The Economist. Strong move on my part. The rag has been great. The depth of coverage is fantastic, and it's really healthy to have a non-American view of the news. Good reporting on Asia, Africa and South America. And no particular lean toward either political party.
The best aspect of the magazine is that it has really challenged my views on the free market. Socialized government has sounded appealing to me over the past decade or so, but now I wrestle with the two paradigms. Clearly, that is a week's worth of posts in and of itself, so we'll just leave it at that.
Imagine my disappointment this week when I get an unexpected package from the United States Postal Service. A small clear bag, boldly stating "We Care". I never accused the postal service of not caring. But clearly, they felt the need to explain themselves since the contents of the package included the cover of this week's Economist. Only the cover. The rest was laying helplessly in some street, or on the floor of the postoffice or at the back of some postal vehicle.
Look, I completely understand that the post office can't possibly bat a thousand. Stuff is going to get mixed up. We're cool. But dang. Of all the weeks to not get The Economist. You know. Only the week that hosted the biggest financial crash of my lifetime.
Still no worries. I read a couple of articles online, but really wanted a hard copy. I had a Border's gift card, and figured I'd swing by to pick up a copy there. But following a 5-minute search of the magazine rack, I was still empty handed. No copies to be found. So I sought out a customer service representative. She verified that they did indeed carry the magazine, but surmised that they were sold out. Fair enough. I could easily imagine people flooding into Borders to get The Economist so they could actually hear about a good idea for fixing the economy. Clearly, the Executive and Legislative brances of our governement don't know how to find those.
I just proceed to the checkout to get a book instead. Slowest...line...ever. The one checkout guy spends five minutes arguing with some lady about why he can't give her the educator discount. So I wait and wait and wait. Finally it's my turn. I pay for my book. I start walking out.
Whaddya know? A rack filled with The Economist is sitting up by the last register as you walk out of the store. No wonder their weren't any in the store.
I pick one up. I glance back at the line. 5 people. Still just the single slowest checkout guy in the history of book selling. No bueno.
But then, a glimmer of hope. This manager is at the register right in front of me with another employee. The sign says the register is closed, but I ask politely if he could just sell me the mag really quick.
"Sorry man. I'm training someone right now."
Seriously, bro. No way am I getting back in that line. I wince. I put the magazine back. I say, "Thanks". I walk out the door.
And that is the story of the last time I ever bought something at Borders.
Renew and Restore