Dollarstore bureacracy

I love the dollar store. Unfortunately, every time I visit the dollar store, I walk out with the one item I want, and 99 other items I don't need. The dollar store should really be called the 'hundred dollars plus tax store'.

A couple of weeks ago I went in with my two daughters because they wanted little radios with headphones. Well, they really want Mp3 players because they covet mine, but I figure why spend that much money on something they're going to break the next day? So we buy the little radios, buy the batteries, go outside the store, and they're bound and determined to listen to them RIGHT AWAY. And good thing, too. Neither one of the little radios work.

Back inside the dollar store, I confront the high school punk working behind the cash and politely request a refund. He pointed at a sign that says, "No Refunds". Like an idiot, I said, "But we just bought these 3 minutes ago." All of a sudden this surly woman appears out of nowhere and booms, " OUR POLICY IS NO REFUNDS, YOU SEE?" I can very plainly read the sign, but since we just did make the purchase, I figured what's the big deal, just give me back my four bucks. I boomed back, "BUT WE JUST BOUGHT THEM A COUPLE OF MINUTES AGO, AND THE DAMN THINGS DON'T WORK."

I looked behind me, and the owner of the store is hurrying down the aisle past a couple of nonplussed shoppers. He beams at me, and says, "What seems to be the problem?" Surly lady barked that I wanted a refund and they don't give refunds, and so on and so on. The store owner said to me, "Well, that is our policy, but can we do an exchange or a store credit?" I don't know, can we? I ponder what exactly I can exchange for four dollars in merchandise. Another radio that doesn't work? The butterfly nets in the corner? Perhaps that fabulous painting of the sad clown behind the counter? Except that was fifteen dollars and I would have to pay 11 extraneous dollars and now I was pissed anyway. I smirked at the store owner and said, "No, I can't think of anything I'd want to exchange for four dollars. Maybe you can give me a store credit." And then I beam at Surly Lady, who by this time is huffing and puffing like a rhino in heat. "Oh good!" the owner said, and hand wrote a store credit on a scrap of paper. For four bucks.

I lost the scrap of paper in my big purse the next day. And I still had to fork out for working radios at another store for the kiddies, who still wanted their tunes.

They broke the stupid things a couple of days later.