Last week I took a trip to my local bookstore looking for another “business” book and much to my dismay, what I wanted was not on the shelf. I waited in line for what seemed to be forever and finally got to talk to one of the store employees and inquired about this particular author’s work I was searching for. “Well, there’s not a lot I can do for you because I don’t see it in our inventory”, Candice (the clerk) fussed. I was ready to walk out the door and move on to another store. However, I had one more trick up my sleeve.
I pulled out my frequent-buyer card and said, “Do you have any idea how many books I’ve bought here?” Seems campy and I hate when I hear customers pull the “Do you know” card, but I was feeling a bit cranky anyway. Candice gazed at the card for a second and then transformed in front of my eyes. She immediately started apologizing and groveling for forgiveness. “Oh my, I had no idea you were a “Platinum” member…let me see what I can do.”
She got on the phone and in some back-door bookstore code, she murmured that there was a “P” member in the store and needed this book. Kinda cool, I’ve now reached “P” status; I’m sure the code does stand for “Platinum” or maybe even “Premier”!
Candice turned to me and said that the West location had my book. I asked for directions and she replied, “Oh, no. Our driver from my store will take you”. Wow, limo service too? She led me to the back of the store and introduced me to Jerry. Jerry would be my chauffer and take me to the “West” store.
As we sped away I heard Jerry on the phone asking if “it” was fueled and ready. I wondered what “it” was and if he had some kind of side business moving freight or something. I leaned forward from the back seat and asked Jerry how long it takes to get to the store. He looked over his sunglasses and said, “We’ll get you there as fast as we can.” We, I thought…how many bookstore employees does it take to get me there?
No sooner than that thought left my head I was slammed up against the door as we made a hard right turn onto an abandoned airstrip. As I got my bearings I saw a shiny Gulfstream jet with the bookstore logo painted on the side taxiing toward the limo. “Wow, are you kidding? I’m getting a ride on the corporate jet?” “Absolutely Mr. E, we take care of our customers”. I jumped out of the limo tried to hand Jerry a ten, but he politely refused and drove off.
I turned around and there was a pleasant looking lady dressed in an old-school stewardess uniform from the 60’s. She introduced herself as Jane, and led me up the steps to the waiting jet. Onboard, I met Kirk and Bolt…pilot and co-pilot respectively. Within 60 seconds I was strapped in and we shot down the runway and into the air at an alarming rate. These private jets are a much bigger rush than any passenger plane!
Three hours and a few drinks later we began descending to the West location…beautiful San Diego. As we flew over the beach, Jane pointed out some scantily clad people playing volleyball. I told her that I haven’t played much since the ’84 Olympics where I pulled a hamstring and if this is story is starting to sound a little too far-fetched then – Happy April Fools!
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