SALES CLERK: Hi! Welcome to Batteries Plus! How can I help you this morning?
ME: My father needs a battery replacement for his cell phone.
MY FATHER: Well, I don’t need it.
ME: His battery can only hold a five-minute charge. He needs it. If it’s even possible for his model.
SALES CLERK: Oh, I’m sure that’s possible. We have all kinds of batteries for all kinds of cell phones.
ME: You haven’t seen the ancient artifact he’s carrying around, yet.
MY FATHER: The Verizon store sent me here. They don’t carry batteries for my model any more.
ME: That should give you an indication right there.
SALES CLERK: Let’s just take a look at . . . oh. Wow.
ME: I told you.
MY FATHER: Now, do you have any idea of how old this phone is?
SALES CLERK [with tact]: Well, it’s really large. . . .
ME: That phone is a bludgeon. It’s a billy club. That phone could be a murder weapon in Clue.
MY FATHER: Oh, gawrsh. It’s not one of your fancy iPhones, but it’s not that large.
ME: If I were a gangster and I had to get rid of a dirty rat, I’d tie his legs together and throw him into the river with that phone of yours as a deadweight.
SALES CLERK: Let me just open up the back so we can take a look at the battery . . . oh, my.
MY FATHER: What’s wrong?
ME: Good lord. That’s disgusting.
MY FATHER: What?
ME: How in the world has the inside of your phone gotten so dirty?
MY FATHER: I don’t know.
ME: Do you keep it buried in the cat box?!
SALES CLERK: Let me just blow this out.
ME: Good god, no, miss. You shouldn’t have to do that. Give it to me and I’ll blow it out. I’ll take it outside and blow it out.
SALES CLERK: I got it, but thank you, honey.
MY FATHER: It’s not that dirty.
ME: You aren’t able to see the filth. It looks like you use your battery cover as a boot scrape.
MY FATHER: I suspect you’re exaggerating.
SALES CLERK: Now, we do have this battery available, but since this is an, um, older model and not very common these days, I don’t want you to be shocked by the price.
MY FATHER [with suspicion]: How much?
SALES CLERK: Thirty-seven-fifty.
ME: That’s not bad. We’ll take it.
MY FATHER: I don’t know. I could probably get another year out of my battery. . . .
ME: By which point this battery could be no longer manufactured. Then you’d have to get a whole new phone.
MY FATHER: Oh, gawrsh.
SALES CLERK: Should I go ahead and replace it, then?
ME: Yes, please.
MY FATHER: Do you know how long that battery lasted me?
ME: A battery isn’t doing you any good if it only holds a five-minute charge. You really shouldn’t let it get that bad. Batteries are designed to be used. You need to take it off the charger occasionally, use it, and let it run down naturally.
MY FATHER: I don’t think that’s true.
SALES CLERK: Oh my goodness, honey, yes. You can’t leave it on the charger all the time. Not for this kind of battery. That will shorten the battery life by a lot.
ME: There. You have a battery expert telling you the same thing.
MY FATHER: This battery lasted for four years!
SALES CLERK: If you keep your battery in good condition, it can four years and still hold a charge for several hours.
ME: Thank you! See? She’s a battery genius.
MY FATHER: [grumbles]
ME: Sorry? Are you doubting the word of this fine, hard-working, underpaid battery genius?
SALES CLERK: Well thank you, honey! I’m going to ring this up and give you a fifteen percent Nice Man Discount.
MY FATHER [suddenly brightening]: Thank you very much!
ME: SHE MEANT ME.
No comments:
Post a Comment