Sun and the Moon

Not knowing what to think, I set out on this haberdasher of an essay, contrite and filled with love for all things I've lost.

Who's to say, though, really?

Isn't sleep deprivation a decent type of amphetamine to the writing cortex?

Settle in, think, listen to the music, maybe not the lyrics. The lyrics will deprave your creativity because you will use their words.

Horse piss.

Oh Evan, all these thoughts.

I've figured out that I have a problem with being employed at a place like Best Buy. My problem is that I have to adhere to someone elses method and ideology for eight hours during the day, adhere to someone else's way of thinking, I have to conform and cannot break free whatsoever or else I will get fired. I hate that. I hate capitalism. I hate the fact that the Geek Squad passes off their services as absolutely philanthropic, yet, at the same time, our hands are often tied without cash involved.

Best Buy is run like a casino. There are no clocks. The more money you spend, the faster and easier service will be for you. We had two $300 orders that we hurriedly finished before everyone else because we need to make revenue. Even then, they didn't pick it up that night. Those willing to put down the money will get the service best. Those that are high-rollers will get the free suites and drinks.

And I hate it.

Because I know that this is how all retail is run--with the intent to kill. Kill their pocketbooks. Kill their morality. Blur that line between need and want. Make them think that they need that badass HDTV. Make them think we know what we're doing. It's all bullshit.

And I hate it.

But, then again, it's a job. And they pay me. And we do our services very well when we do them since nobody likes having angry customers. I'd recommend it if you absolutely need it. We'll take care of you.

Horse Piss.

What the hell is with that?