John Madden NFL Football vs Bust Buy Return

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September 12, 2012 by David Gillaspie

On a blustery yet warm afternoon two foes faced off in the center of the stadium, known as the cross roads of commerce or middle of the store.

I held the hefty Madden close to my side, calming my urge to talk with my pointer finger out. Doing that to the television camera is one thing, in real life it’s trouble.

A sweet-faced manager faced me, smile locked on. She didn’t need a finger in her face.

Besides, I planned to deliver the Godfather offer, you know, the one they can’t refuse. And do it calmly.

John Madden and I stood our ground, held our calm. That’s what winners do.

The writers call it confidence.

Except Bust Buy had a counter to confidence they called Store Policy and backed it up with Federal Law regarding opened Madden games. Even ones bought by mistake, played once, and returned twelve hours later.

“It’s store policy to charge $60.00 for Madden and buy him back the next day for twenty?”

“That’s how it is everywhere, Target, places like that. Opened computer software, movies, music and video games can be exchanged for the identical item but cannot be returned for a refund.

I felt John Madden twitch beside me.

A team should never practice on a field that is not lined. Your players have to become aware of the field’s boundaries,” he said.

“Easy big fella,” I whispered. “She’s just a kid. She doesn’t know.”

“Sir?” the manager said. “Sir, you’re talking to a game cover.”

“Yes, ma’am. The store policy, or Federal Law, is about returning a $60 dollar game the day after I bought it and taking $20 for it?”

“Yes. Customer Service it in the right front of the store. Left front coming in.”

“Thank you.”

Madden started coughing.

“If this team doesn’t put points on the board I don’t see how we can win,” he said.

“Got it, coach.” I said.

“Usually the team that scores the most points wins the game,” he said.

“Sir, Customer Service, it’s up front on the right,” the manager said.

“Thank you. It’s on the left coming in the doors if I remember. I’m still saying good bye.”

John Madden started bunching his shoulders, his belly shaking.

“Usually the team that scores the most points wins the game,” he said.

I’d had enough of his fun.

“Listen, Super Bowl Coach, you’re not the only one who knows how to keep score. I’m scoring here, scoring big.”

The manager walked a half circle and turned.

“Can I get someone to help you?” she asked.

“Did anyone ask Clint Eastwood if he needed help while he talked to a stool? See, this happened before. I can take this to Game Crazy or the new place and get $30, but not here. You’re screwing me and I like a little conversation. Maybe a drink. Where’s the water fountain?”

She pointed to the front of the building, to the right.

“Near Customer Service.”

“Is there anyone else I can talk to?”

“They’ll tell you the same thing.”

“Who is they?”

“I’m the manager on duty. I’m ‘they.’

“Do you remember Circuit City, the one on Scholls Ferry? That whole company went out of business. Know why?”

“I don’t.”

“Me neither. Maybe customer service?”

“In the front of the store, to the right.”

On the way up I told Madden, “I’m not taking you back. I don’t like the deal.”

“Some yards is better than none yards.”

“Well this game is up. When I spend here, I spend big. Get more than one thing when I drive here. I go out of my way to come here.”

“The best way to gain more yards is advance the ball down the field from the line of scrimmage,” he said.

“That’s what we’ll do out in the parking lot. And it’ll be easy. It’s nearly empty. We will advance on down the road.”

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