Return Story

They say everybody's got a story to tell, but does that necessarily mean that everybody else has a story to hear? Not quite, as one customer at a retail returns counter was about to find out.

Pete Becivenga of Schaumburg, Illinois was apprehensive waiting in the returns line at his local All-In-One, but he was ready to play the game.

“They're always looking for ways to weasel out of giving you your money back,” he says, a claim that is in no way backed up by store policy, anecdotal evidence, or reality. “Sometimes you gotta give ‘em the old razzle dazzle!”

According to Becivenga, “the old razzle dazzle” is coming up with an elaborate story of how he damaged a $12, black silicone-coated meat tenderizer he bought there last week.

“You can't just walk up and say ‘this thing broke’,” he explains, again baselessly, “or they'll just say ‘our policy doesn't cover that’. That's why you need to give them the whole rigamarole, the more details and tangents the better! That way it's harder for them to say no!”

With the hope that all his razzle dazzles and rigamaroles are in order, Pete Becivenga is finally called forward.

“Hi, yes,” he says nervously to the worker at the returns counter, “I got this meat mallet last week and…”

The returns worker, Lisa Duhaime, takes a quick look at the tenderizer, the silicone coating of which is pocked with nicks and scratches, and cuts him off. “Normal wear and tear,” she says, “don't worry about it. Would you like the refund back to the card you used or on a gift card?”

“You, uh,” stammers Becivenga, “don't wanna know how it happened?”

“No, it's cool,” says Duhaime, “it happens.”

While Becivenga is flabbergasted by this turn of events we take a moment to ask Lisa Duhaime exactly why she won't give the poor guy a chance to tell his story.

“Look,” she tells us in a lowered voice, “I don't need the exposition dump. He's returning a used meat tenderizer, not world-building a young adult dystopian book series. I don't care about the backstory, I'm just here to turnover customers. Is it eligible for return? Yes? Here's your money, next in line please, keep it moving.”

Bencivenga is now making his case to his fellow customers waiting to advance to the returns desk.

“I had this whole story planned out about the stupid meat hammer,” he says, “all about how it was shoddy and should’ve been made more durable than this, and now nobody gets to hear it!? That’s not fair, I practiced telling it the whole way over here!”

“Look,” says Duhaime, more to us but fully audible to all present, “you can’t let these guys get started or they’ll never stop talking. It’s not fair to everyone else in line.”

“I don’t know,” says the next customer behind Bencivenga. “I mean, I am in a hurry, but I also kind of want to hear his story now. It’s just been so built up at this point.”

“Yeah, let him tell his story!” shouts another customer towards the back of the line.

“Let the man speak!” says a third.

“I would also like to hear about this man’s meat-beater,” says a store merchandiser who is there collecting go-backs whom we suspect is not really interested in the story at all.

“Okay, fine!” Duhaime finally concedes. “Go on, tell us what happened to your meat beat– uh, tenderizer.”

“Okay,” says Bencivenga, fanning out his hands in front of him as if beginning the epic tale to end all epic tales, “so there I am at home, trying to hang some picture frames….”

“Wait a second,” interrupts Duhaime. “Were you using this kitchen gadget to do home maintenance?”

“Beg pardon?” Bencivenga asks.

“Did you use this food preparation product to hammer nails into your wall?”

“Well, yes,” admits Bencivenga, “but that’s only the beginning!”

“Using a product for something other than its recommended use voids its eligibility for return,” says Duhaime. “Sorry, no refund. Next in line!”

Well shit. We’re sure it would've been a pretty good story though, but it’s like they always say: Show, don't tell.