A few suggestions to help make CompUSA a better store.
As much as I hate to admit it, the people in management at CompUSA are enviably
diabolical. They have found a way to tap into the wallets of hundreds of
thousands of knuckle dragging, mouth-breathing, dimwitted morons. Daily.
As exemplified by their newest ad campaign featuring a eunuch man with a
unibrow that pisses-me-off all over the place, the typical CompUSA customer
has no problem being
talked down to by a technical authority figure so long as he has a smug,
condescending voice, and an A+ certification (which ranks somewhere between
tying your shoe laces and not choking to death on your drool in the
universal spectrum of skills).
I can't help but admire the balls-to-the-wall arrogance of CompUSA's
management.
I mean, the magnitude of swindling we're dealing with here would
give Satan a boner.
With a money-making agenda that could otherwise only exist in a
super villain's wet dream, CompUSA needs no help from a ruggedly handsome
pirate such as myself. So I've decided to give a few suggestions that might
make the store better for customers instead. Enjoy:
To better match the store atmosphere at CompUSA, I've created a new
logo:
I find this new logo more descriptive because it will help give the customers
a better idea of what to expect from the moment they set foot in CompUSA.
Open a home loan center on premises to make it more convenient for
customers to take out a second mortgage to help pay the overhead on minor
computer hardware and software purchases.
Save a lot of time and trouble of calculating totals on customer receipts
by streamlining the balance into the following convenient total:
By combining the purchase total into the "RAPE" column, you save the customer
the hassle of re-checking the total himself to conclude that he was in fact
raped without lubrication by CompUSA's sales & marketing staff.
More foreplay please! Customers love thinking they're getting a $2200
computer for $1900:
Sure, at a glance it looks like the product costs $1900, but thanks to
micro-print, customers don't have to be bothered by details like the
actual cost of the product until they bring the item up to the checkout
counter. That is, unless the customer has 20/20 vision and catches notice
of the following little gem:
Not that there's anything wrong with rebates, after all, the
customer can go through the simple steps of sending in two separate forms along
with photocopies of receipts, UPC labels, serial numbers and the title page
of the instruction manuals if they want their rebates. Then a brisk 8-10
weeks later, the customer will be rolling in cash back from a wise purchase.
Nevermind little clauses like "limit one rebate per household," so if
anyone else living at your residence purchases the same item, or if you
purchase more than one of the same product, your subsequent rebate requests
will be rejected. Of course,
listing products with the rebate price in large type without the rebate
clauses listed may mislead the customer into thinking that he or she is
able to receive the rebate in spite of the restrictions, but who has time
to worry about fraud when we're talking about (maybe) huge savings?
Pay your sales and technical staff minimum wage, then pass the savings
onto your customers in the form of a 600% markup on products. Just kidding,
that would be unethical.
Be sure not to mention any service plans we didn't ask for, because
everyone loves a good surprise in the form of a 3 year warranty that doesn't
begin until the manufacturer's warranty expires.
Hire untrained school kids to man your staff, because I like being told
that the swap file on my computer is "pretend memory." Being talked
down to by crater-faced sales staff is a humbling experience, and the
phrase "pretend memory" is awesome. It makes me want to pay you pretend
money for the pretend
advice I received from your staff with pretend technical knowledge.
Offer warranties for things that don't need service, such as pre-packaged
software sold by third-party vendors.
Charge arbitrary 15% "restocking" fees to seal and restock products
returned due to defects:
The most expensive cellophane in the
universe.
Finding fingerprints on products sold as new in your store is a great way
to discover that you've been sold a potentially faulty product. I love
searching for fingerprints on products I purchase anyway. It's like a
scavenger hunt, except instead of finding a prize, I get it up the ass.
Make sure not to mention that some manufacturers sell your name,
phone number, address, and purchase history to third parties for the purpose
of telemarketing and other solicitations until after the product has
already been purchased. Try to combine this with the unwanted warranty
purchase for a super surprise, gang-bang style!
That's all the advice I have for now. If any executives or management from
CompUSA read this list, I hope you found it helpful. I aim to please.
2,204,395 people learned how to read between the lines and are now
boycotting CompUSA.
