A three-part update will come soon, once I finally get around to writing this paper. School's just more important.
Part 1: A Mother and Her Legends
Part 2: Trip and Credit
Part 3: Tinkerbell
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
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.
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.
Rules
After a month of working in a video game store, I've come to realize:
- Those parents who think a good-ol' fashioned game of Solitaire suits them just nicely are, in fact, very very common.
- Some of the nicest conversations I've had with customers are with mothers, among them including mothers who can hold their own in a conversation about Harvest Moon, Silent Hill, and Final Fantasy.
- Popular family games include Grand Theft Auto and Manhunt.
- The Wii is a boring kiddy system for four-year-olds and only adults play the XB360.
- The mere concept in a video game is better than the actual execution of said concept. That means the bargain bin is a beautiful place for some people.
- Customers seem to automatically think that, when it comes to video games, if they buy a used game and it isn't what they thought it was going to be, they have all the right in the world to return it in the name of disapproval.
- Everyone kicks their XB360.
And most importantly:
- If a customer is angry over a common mistake they or someone related to them has made, I have suddenly become exactly what the customer is angry at.
- Those parents who think a good-ol' fashioned game of Solitaire suits them just nicely are, in fact, very very common.
- Some of the nicest conversations I've had with customers are with mothers, among them including mothers who can hold their own in a conversation about Harvest Moon, Silent Hill, and Final Fantasy.
- Popular family games include Grand Theft Auto and Manhunt.
- The Wii is a boring kiddy system for four-year-olds and only adults play the XB360.
- The mere concept in a video game is better than the actual execution of said concept. That means the bargain bin is a beautiful place for some people.
- Customers seem to automatically think that, when it comes to video games, if they buy a used game and it isn't what they thought it was going to be, they have all the right in the world to return it in the name of disapproval.
- Everyone kicks their XB360.
And most importantly:
- If a customer is angry over a common mistake they or someone related to them has made, I have suddenly become exactly what the customer is angry at.
Thursday, April 1, 2010
The Fool
Today was April Fool's Day.
This thought never crossed my mind as I went into work. Soul was there, off work and waiting around talking to people, while Queen worked the store next door.
I set my jacket down and Soul pointed out a memo left on the counter for me to read. Said it was important. Of course. That's fine. We get a lot of memos in.
Before I post the memo, I should explain that we have a card system. Owners of this card obviously get discounts on our used games. I'm sure you're aware of this sort of thing. No, you don't know us.
Here is what the memo said:
"[Queen],
As you know we have recently sent out several secret shoppers to make sure [our store]'s employees are doing what is asked of them. This includes selling [cards], being out on the sales floor as much as possible, and various other duties. On a recent visit to your store, your employee [MY NAME] was seen on his cell phone, using the computers for personal use, and when ringing up the secret shopper he did not mention anything about the [card]. I checked and he did sign the memo that specifically talked about much of this. Please tell this employee that he is to be written up and is currently on a 60 day probation period. If he continues to deliberately disregard company policy, he is to be terminated immediately.
[NAME]
[Our Store] Corporate"
(The reasons listed were perfectly legitimate reasons: The cellphone was out because I was getting my fellow employee's number. The computer was under personal use because we didn't have a thing to do and there were no customers. And the card could have been an honest mistake.)
I sat and stared at it for a good half-minute as Soul watched me. "Read it?" he asked. I nodded, unable to think of what to say. "Yeah... It's a bummer, really," he says in his perfectly normal tone of voice.
"Yeah."
"Man, don't sweat it, everything's gonna be fine."
I can feel a sweat breaking out over me. I don't want to lose this job! Not now! "Mm," I mutter.
"Don't worry about it, it's not a big deal, you know?" Pause.
He edges closer.
"Because it's AAAAAPRIL FOOL'S!"
A white-hot flash passes through me. Queen uproars with laughter; she was in on it too, I see. As the realization sets in, coupled with more of that all-too-familiar disbelief, realizing I had been tricked, a bullet of a thought shoots through my mind.
'They must really like me to want to prank me so elaborately.'
This thought never crossed my mind as I went into work. Soul was there, off work and waiting around talking to people, while Queen worked the store next door.
I set my jacket down and Soul pointed out a memo left on the counter for me to read. Said it was important. Of course. That's fine. We get a lot of memos in.
Before I post the memo, I should explain that we have a card system. Owners of this card obviously get discounts on our used games. I'm sure you're aware of this sort of thing. No, you don't know us.
Here is what the memo said:
"[Queen],
As you know we have recently sent out several secret shoppers to make sure [our store]'s employees are doing what is asked of them. This includes selling [cards], being out on the sales floor as much as possible, and various other duties. On a recent visit to your store, your employee [MY NAME] was seen on his cell phone, using the computers for personal use, and when ringing up the secret shopper he did not mention anything about the [card]. I checked and he did sign the memo that specifically talked about much of this. Please tell this employee that he is to be written up and is currently on a 60 day probation period. If he continues to deliberately disregard company policy, he is to be terminated immediately.
[NAME]
[Our Store] Corporate"
(The reasons listed were perfectly legitimate reasons: The cellphone was out because I was getting my fellow employee's number. The computer was under personal use because we didn't have a thing to do and there were no customers. And the card could have been an honest mistake.)
I sat and stared at it for a good half-minute as Soul watched me. "Read it?" he asked. I nodded, unable to think of what to say. "Yeah... It's a bummer, really," he says in his perfectly normal tone of voice.
"Yeah."
"Man, don't sweat it, everything's gonna be fine."
I can feel a sweat breaking out over me. I don't want to lose this job! Not now! "Mm," I mutter.
"Don't worry about it, it's not a big deal, you know?" Pause.
He edges closer.
"Because it's AAAAAPRIL FOOL'S!"
A white-hot flash passes through me. Queen uproars with laughter; she was in on it too, I see. As the realization sets in, coupled with more of that all-too-familiar disbelief, realizing I had been tricked, a bullet of a thought shoots through my mind.
'They must really like me to want to prank me so elaborately.'
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Suey
I went to work with a stomach virus today. It was over fourty-eight hours old.
I also worked with Soul today. Soul, as his name implies, is a very interesting person to work with; I find it easiest to hold a conversation with him at any given point because we tend to share common interests more often than not.
(I must confess I am terrible at giving nicknames.)
It was a slow morning. Aside from getting Warioware D.I.Y. shipped in, we didn't have much to do. Which was fine, because Soul spent the first hour talking me into buying a PlayStation 3.
My poor wallet.
A customer walks in. The man is wearing a leather jacket, sporting a buzzcut and a fuzzy light blonde mustache. He is with a woman, roughly the same age. Probably only a few years older than me. He spends a few minutes standing around in the PS2 aisles before picking a few titles up while Soul and I run next door to request a movie to be played over the various television sets mounted between both stores (a movie rental store is next door, and our stores are connected).
We pick Fantastic Mr. Fox.
As I head back to the register, the customer approaches me with cases in hand. He has picked out three PS2 games:
- Grand Theft Auto: Vice City
- Final Fantasy VII: Dirge of Cerberus
- Fantavision
As I ring him up, thinking nothing of his choices, he asks if we can search for a game in our system. I, of course, tell him yes we can. The man mentions it's a bit hard to spell, so he begins spelling it out for me as I force thoughts of how socially inept the man must be around authority figures out of my head.
"S, U, I."
Sui? Something in the back of my mind clicks.
"K."
No way.
There's no way this guy knows about the Suikoden series. Not in this rural city. This is the country. People don't play those games here.
"O."
I can't believe it.
"Suikoden?" I blurt out without thinking.
He nods. And it turns out we don't have any in stock. I banter a bit about how difficult it would be to find those games in this area - or in general, and he remarks that he's been looking for them for a long time.
Soul pulls the discs and hands them to me. The customer pays and leaves, and I wish him luck in finding any of the Suikoden games he's looking for.
My face wears a look of disbelief as the credits for Fantastic Mr. Fox play.
It was then I realized my stomach virus hadn't bothered me all morning.
I also worked with Soul today. Soul, as his name implies, is a very interesting person to work with; I find it easiest to hold a conversation with him at any given point because we tend to share common interests more often than not.
(I must confess I am terrible at giving nicknames.)
It was a slow morning. Aside from getting Warioware D.I.Y. shipped in, we didn't have much to do. Which was fine, because Soul spent the first hour talking me into buying a PlayStation 3.
My poor wallet.
A customer walks in. The man is wearing a leather jacket, sporting a buzzcut and a fuzzy light blonde mustache. He is with a woman, roughly the same age. Probably only a few years older than me. He spends a few minutes standing around in the PS2 aisles before picking a few titles up while Soul and I run next door to request a movie to be played over the various television sets mounted between both stores (a movie rental store is next door, and our stores are connected).
We pick Fantastic Mr. Fox.
As I head back to the register, the customer approaches me with cases in hand. He has picked out three PS2 games:
- Grand Theft Auto: Vice City
- Final Fantasy VII: Dirge of Cerberus
- Fantavision
As I ring him up, thinking nothing of his choices, he asks if we can search for a game in our system. I, of course, tell him yes we can. The man mentions it's a bit hard to spell, so he begins spelling it out for me as I force thoughts of how socially inept the man must be around authority figures out of my head.
"S, U, I."
Sui? Something in the back of my mind clicks.
"K."
No way.
There's no way this guy knows about the Suikoden series. Not in this rural city. This is the country. People don't play those games here.
"O."
I can't believe it.
"Suikoden?" I blurt out without thinking.
He nods. And it turns out we don't have any in stock. I banter a bit about how difficult it would be to find those games in this area - or in general, and he remarks that he's been looking for them for a long time.
Soul pulls the discs and hands them to me. The customer pays and leaves, and I wish him luck in finding any of the Suikoden games he's looking for.
My face wears a look of disbelief as the credits for Fantastic Mr. Fox play.
It was then I realized my stomach virus hadn't bothered me all morning.
Friday, March 26, 2010
Rollin' Around
I found myself thankful for grabbing Queen and pulling her over when I did as our latest customer walked in. A woman in her 40s, at least, and my height, but with considerable more weight on her. Her curly red hair hangs loosely around her, and nearly every part of her skin was beginning to sag. A particular spot below her neck was raw and chunks of skin were beginning to peel off. Yet, I generally don't pay too much attention to appearances with customers; it was when she opened her mouth that my attention was bought.
From what I was able to gather as Queen talked with the woman, she was looking for an Xbox360 to buy from us, though she didn't have a clue about much of anything she was talking about; we spent a good ten minutes explaining the difference between controllers, wires, hard drives, games, save files, et cetera.
And then the woman browsed through our games. She picked up Sonic the Hedgehog - "This the one where you curl up 'nto a ball, rollin' 'round an' shit." - and she later bought it with the system, along with a few sports and racing games.
I watched Queen ring her up, helping a few customers here and there as the woman talked and checked her phone, which periodically went off every two or so minutes.
"These people need'ta stop sendin' me ass-shots."
Distraction!
The woman continues, explaining how it's part of this "Moe Coe Dot Com", some dating site she's a part of, and people send her pictures of their backsides directly to her phone - and how annoying it was. Despite all the warnings that were going off in the back of my mind, she continued, and I listened.
"Jus' the otha day at work, some guy sends me a message 'bout how he would like'ta climb up on my back. I tell 'em no, of course, I'mma married woman, but he's all like 'I won't tell if you won't tell ;)'.
Queen laughed politely with a hint of laughing at something more, and I laughed along with everyone else, but it was a hollow laugh. The woman spends over $400 at once and leaves after I fumble a bit showing her where the power cord goes, and as she leaves Queen has to hold in even more laughter. I laughed too, of course, but I couldn't help but wonder why.
Yes, I found myself thankful for grabbing Queen when I did. There are certain types of people I'm just not ready to handle yet.
From what I was able to gather as Queen talked with the woman, she was looking for an Xbox360 to buy from us, though she didn't have a clue about much of anything she was talking about; we spent a good ten minutes explaining the difference between controllers, wires, hard drives, games, save files, et cetera.
And then the woman browsed through our games. She picked up Sonic the Hedgehog - "This the one where you curl up 'nto a ball, rollin' 'round an' shit." - and she later bought it with the system, along with a few sports and racing games.
I watched Queen ring her up, helping a few customers here and there as the woman talked and checked her phone, which periodically went off every two or so minutes.
"These people need'ta stop sendin' me ass-shots."
Distraction!
The woman continues, explaining how it's part of this "Moe Coe Dot Com", some dating site she's a part of, and people send her pictures of their backsides directly to her phone - and how annoying it was. Despite all the warnings that were going off in the back of my mind, she continued, and I listened.
"Jus' the otha day at work, some guy sends me a message 'bout how he would like'ta climb up on my back. I tell 'em no, of course, I'mma married woman, but he's all like 'I won't tell if you won't tell ;)'.
Queen laughed politely with a hint of laughing at something more, and I laughed along with everyone else, but it was a hollow laugh. The woman spends over $400 at once and leaves after I fumble a bit showing her where the power cord goes, and as she leaves Queen has to hold in even more laughter. I laughed too, of course, but I couldn't help but wonder why.
Yes, I found myself thankful for grabbing Queen when I did. There are certain types of people I'm just not ready to handle yet.
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Practice Post
Today's first customer was a slightly obese kid, somewhere between ten and twelve years old. The poor fellow looked like he had no idea where he was going as he stumbled along, bobbing his head. Queen had stepped out for a minute, leaving me alone to watch the store. Eventually the kid wandered up to the counter and stared up at me with inquisitive eyes.
"Do you guys have any older games?" he asks me, to which I ask what system he means.
"Pee-es-too."
I blink before explaining he just wandered through the PS2 games. Yet he pressed on, saying we didn't have it. The game he was looking for.
"What game are you looking for?" I ask politely, in my friendliest tone.
"Dukes of Hazzard."
In the end, he was right; we didn't have any Dukes of Hazzard, and the kid left defeated.
. . .
Not an hour passes while I'm at work before all hell breaks loose as a tall man with long hair carrying a duffel bag walks in. He unzips the duffel bag in a cocky manner, revealing 40+ PS2 games and two memory cards he wants to trade in. I help Queen out a bit with checking the game discs before wandering off to distract myself with inventory work. I didn't have the pleasure of talking to him too much; he didn't seem the type to take pleasure in conversation to begin with.
Cleaning up after the massive pile of games he dropped off with us took most of the evening.
. . .
In our deadest hour comes two men roughly in their twenties. One sported the perfect policeman mustache, the other the perfect peach fuzz; both wore hoodies too big for them. I watched out of the corner of my eye as they wormed their way around the store, picking up games, laughing at the "silly" ones, and leaving a mess of things in their wake. I wasn't too far behind, reorganizing everything as they passed; there wasn't too much to do.
They made their way to the Gamecube games as I continued to fix the mess that was the Xbox 360 section, making their opinion of our wares as public as the store we run.
"Hey, look, they got Zelda!"
"Nah, man, you don't want to play that one, that's the cartoony one, that's stupid."
I sighed to myself. I am only an opinion, after all.
In the end, after they took their sweet time making a beautiful disarray, the gentlemen picked up NBA Ballers: Chosen One (XB360) and Half-Life 2 (Xbox).
I blinked.
"Do you guys have any older games?" he asks me, to which I ask what system he means.
"Pee-es-too."
I blink before explaining he just wandered through the PS2 games. Yet he pressed on, saying we didn't have it. The game he was looking for.
"What game are you looking for?" I ask politely, in my friendliest tone.
"Dukes of Hazzard."
In the end, he was right; we didn't have any Dukes of Hazzard, and the kid left defeated.
. . .
Not an hour passes while I'm at work before all hell breaks loose as a tall man with long hair carrying a duffel bag walks in. He unzips the duffel bag in a cocky manner, revealing 40+ PS2 games and two memory cards he wants to trade in. I help Queen out a bit with checking the game discs before wandering off to distract myself with inventory work. I didn't have the pleasure of talking to him too much; he didn't seem the type to take pleasure in conversation to begin with.
Cleaning up after the massive pile of games he dropped off with us took most of the evening.
. . .
In our deadest hour comes two men roughly in their twenties. One sported the perfect policeman mustache, the other the perfect peach fuzz; both wore hoodies too big for them. I watched out of the corner of my eye as they wormed their way around the store, picking up games, laughing at the "silly" ones, and leaving a mess of things in their wake. I wasn't too far behind, reorganizing everything as they passed; there wasn't too much to do.
They made their way to the Gamecube games as I continued to fix the mess that was the Xbox 360 section, making their opinion of our wares as public as the store we run.
"Hey, look, they got Zelda!"
"Nah, man, you don't want to play that one, that's the cartoony one, that's stupid."
I sighed to myself. I am only an opinion, after all.
In the end, after they took their sweet time making a beautiful disarray, the gentlemen picked up NBA Ballers: Chosen One (XB360) and Half-Life 2 (Xbox).
I blinked.
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