Office Max Jack

Prompted by a sales ad and not my bank account, I went into Office Max this afternoon to get a printer. Of course, that also meant I had to get paper and an extra cartridge of black ink. I need to print out some of the stuff I’ve been writing. That way I can see how much crap I really got verse how much I really don’t have. It’s torture for my writing soul.

After paying my state property tax I feel pretty poor. My choice is to write or get a job. In this economy, writing seems easier, but still not very lucrative.

Jack, a handsome young man, personally greeted me at the door. I guess the economy hasn’t effected the staffing at Office Max, although just three minutes past noon I could have shot a cannon through the front door and only killed poor Jack. Criminal.

So much enthusiasm swam around Jack I grabbed my wallet thinking I was getting ready to get fleeced. Jack stacked the latest sale brochures and offered one to me.

“No thanks. I have my own,” waving the one that had been stuffed in yesterday’s newspaper.

“Then, can I help you find something,” he asked?

I pointed to the HP printer in my flyer. Jack was familiar with the brand and model. He escorted me to the aisle where it was located. “It’s your lucky day, there are two left.”

“No, it is your lucky day. I’m only need one. That leaves you with an opportunity to sell one more.” I think that confused him a little. He smiled and asked if he could carry it to the front. It wasn’t much bigger than my toaster oven, but since I had him, why not use him?

“Okay, but I need an extra ink cartridge and some paper. He guided me through the empty aisles to the display of HP ink boxes hanging on the wall in nice orderly rows. He told me which cartridge model fit into my new printer and rattled off the prices. After explaining different capacity options for the HP and competing Office Max brand, he took out his cell phone. My first thought was this wasn’t the best time to make or take a call. Jack you are with the only customer in the whole store. But using his phone as a calculator he entered the number of pages each cartridge would print and divided it by the price to get a cost per page. Yeah, I got that feature on my phone too, except since I’m well over twenty-three by the time I figured it out, the store would be out of business.

“Jack, you are my kind of shopper” I told him. I was going to tell him that was how my mother shopped, but I figured I was so old he couldn’t imagine a time when my mother shopped – like in the Last Great Depression!! He calculated the difference at thirteen and nine cents a page. Impressed. I was ready to buy a big screen TV or a Toyota Land Cruiser from this kid. Instead, I did ask if the ink was going to disappear in 24 hours. He smiled.

“The paper is over here. The cheapest is in the corner.” Complete trust. I selected one ream without even looking and we were off to the register.

At the checkout, I made a point of telling Jack that this shopping experience had been a complete pleasure. Very enjoyable. The cashier laughed as Jack thanked me and turned to disappear into the tombs of the empty store.