LOEV PIZZA

Another Sunday. Another busy day of trade-ins, if my previous Sundays meant anything.

Today I worked with Loner, who earned his name through his own self-description, believe it or not. He's a newer employee than I am, but he has five years of Gamestop on his belt, and knows the way things work better than I do. He's also a much bigger gamer than I probably ever will be.

In retrospect, I'm okay with this.

I get right to work, picking up a list of new Wii games in the inventory and running through making sure the prices are all correct. Loner's idea, since we were already out of things to do.

Not too soon after I leave the counter, a woman walks in. Seems she bought a Wiimote brand-new and it didn't work anymore, only she didn't want a replacement Wiimote, but a DS game. As I continue my busywork, listening in on their conversation, Loner explains the company policy, how we can't trade a new product's value in for a used product, et cetera.

"What about two DS games?" She presses on. Loner presses back. And the woman leaves with defect in two, clearly frustrated but understanding.

Ten minutes pass. I'm halfway down the Wii section when the phone rings. It's the woman's boyfriend/husband/I never know anymore. Oh, yes, of course he's angry. He's threatening to come up and he won't leave until he gets a full refund. Loner handles it as if it's second-nature to him, because of course it is. I find myself thankful I'm the one doing the busywork anyway, and taking mental notes.

It only takes the man six or so minutes to show up, and he's just as loud as I pictured him in my head. By now I find myself glancing over occasionally, concentration shattered like so many windows.

White T-shirt. Khaki shorts. Bald head. But while he wielded a raised voice, this man didn't seem quite like the other obviously livid customers I've dealt with personally. 'Why doesn't he feel angry to me?' I wonder.

The man argues the same argument his partner made not too long before, but explains himself this time: Their daughter saw a used Tinkerbell DS game we had and wouldn't stop bugging them about how much she wanted it. "Please, I know you guys can just get me the game instead of this busted Wii Remote," the man pleads.

Loner, cool as always, has run out of resources. Now he's on the phone, calling up Queen, not for questions but for reassurance. If the man won't listen to the employee, why not the manager?

And suddenly the man demands to speak to her personally. By now I've all but dropped what I was doing, and pretending to have an excuse to come back up to the counter, I bring a Wii game to double-check the price in the system. Don't want the customer suspecting I want to help, after all.

The man argued on the phone with Queen as she explained to him exactly what Loner had told him previously, but whatever she said or however she said it made this man appear even angrier. He still wasn't satisfied, and wanted to speak with someone higher than our manager. He was convinced we had a way to get him this DS game with the defective Wiimote's credit.

Oh Queen, whatever did you say?

Out of nowhere, our phone rings. Standing at the counter, I pick up the phone before Loner does - to help out somehow, anyway. And whoever should it be but Soul? As the customer stands at the counter, rereading his receipt for the umpteenth time, I talk to Soul and explain the situation.

"Well, I'm higher than [Queen], want me to speak to him?"

Oh yeah, Soul works up at the company office now, doesn't he? I totally forgot. What a hectic month.

I hand the phone over. A short minute later, the man hands the phone back to me while Soul explains what I'm going to do. Essentially, to make both parties happy, we would take the busted Wiimote in and replace it with a new one. Then the man would return the new one, unopened, and get a full refund, which he would use to pick up the Tinkerbell DS game. Soul then apologized, explaining how complicated the system is and how it should really be fixed up.

Hey, whatever, I'm getting paid. So we hang up.

So I talk to the customer a little bit, making sure he knew how easy I was to work with, and replaced his defective product with one of ours in the system.

Evidently I was having an effect on him. "Hang on, lemme make this official," he remarks, and takes the unopened Wiimote with him out the door. He waits for it to close, then opens it up again with a smile on his face.

"Hey, yeah, I decided I didn't want this after all, I was wondering if I could get a full refund?"

Where'd this complete 180 in personality come from? Was he ever angry at all? Ah, whatever. We do the refund, the man gets his game, both parties are satisfied.

On the way out, still smiling, he thanks us: "Hey, maybe I'll get you guys a pizza!"

And he's gone.

Bewildered, I look at Loner, who shrugs, and we laugh. Some people.

I scratch my head a bit, and I realize I'm overdue for a haircut.