You Can Do It. We Can Help-- Once We Get Over the Munchies

Karen this morning bought a refrigerator for the new house at one of the typical places one might purchase a refrigerator, particularly if one plans to use it in one's HOME.

She very quickly found what she wanted. However, no salesman was to be found.

So she waited.

And waited

And waited

Finally, Karen sauntered over the kitchen cabinet section, where she found four people sitting around a desk area.

"Hello," she said to the group. "Could I purchase a refrigerator? Like right now?"

Three of them looked over to a guy about fifty, who walked with a limp and had a very obvious tattoo of an anchor on his forearm. He followed Karen towards the refrigerator of her choice.

"Would you like me to tell you about this one or would you just prefer to make the purchase?" he asked.

In all honesty, Karen did not need to hear his speech on this particular unit. However, she happened to noticed that the guy smelled like marijuana. After carefully weighing her options, Karen decided to get the full sales experience from the stoned dude.

At minimum, it would be an AWESOME story to tell her friends at work on Monday.

Anyway, so the salesman told her all about the features: the ledge on the butter dish, which keeps things from falling off, the lock on the ice and water dispenser so that little kids don't flood the house, etc.

"So do you have a husband?" he asked Karen.

"No, not so much," she replied.

"OK, I'm going to pick on you now: let's say your girlfriend spills something on the shelf . . ."

At this point Karen stopped listening. So now, because she's not married, Karen is a lesbian?

Obviously he's one of the few Americans who doesn't read the blog.

Granted, this is Texas, but what century does this character live in?

Once again, Karen weighs her options. She could be weirded out, drive seven miles down the road to another store which sells HOME appliances, to buy the same refrigerator, but again, I've trained Karen to recognize wonderful moments in comedy. Thus, she stuck around.

Anyway, the stoned guy took Karen back to the desk area to complete paperwork. He had a lot of trouble entering her address and getting the delivery time and date, mainly, I guess because he was STONED.

At one point he asked for Karen's driver's license.

"Oh, look at that. You look so pretty in that picture," he told her. "You must of just gotten out of bed."

I could not make this up. Yes, Karen was just told she looked bad by a dude with an anchor tattoo and visible nose hairs.

"Dude, I'm at Home Depot and clearly you are not Mr. Blackwell," Karen said indignantly.

Actually, that's not what Karen said. Karen only comes up with smart ass comments like two hours after she needs them. In reality, Karen just looked at him like "What a dumb ass".

So Karen bought a refrigerator.

From a stoned dude

Who thought Karen was a lesbian

With visible nose hairs

Who clearly has not attended any form of sales training

Karen now has a question for you, my readers of discriminating taste:

She's been selected to complete a "customer satisfaction survey" online. She's planning on doing it, as she'd be entered into a sweepstakes to win a $5,000 gift certificate.

How forthcoming should Karen be in this case?