So, today I venture back to what is my local, and, in my opinion, Canada's worst Crappy Tire store on Gibb Street in Oshawa. My needs are simple - I've lost the extension tube for the spray can of silicone lube I use on my treadmill, and, since they don't sell the tubes, am prepared to buy another can of lube. As well, I hope to buy a nice shiny chrome or stainless (Chinese chrome?) tailpipe extension for my new car. What do I find? All the "shiny accessories" are now behind padlocked wire grills! This means you have to go in search of an "associate" (I think that's what they call them nowadays) to unlock the wire cage, and escort you, like a convict, to the cash with this $10.99 made in china piece of crap that they, for whatever reason, think has the same appeal to a shoplifter as the Hope diamond to a cat burglar. It's very difficult to pin down one of these "associates" - they gather in groups, like antelope at a watering hole, to gossip, but, should they catch you approaching with that "help me" look, or trying to make eye contact, they scatter like cockroaches when you switch on the lights. So, I forget about the chrome exhaust tip, since I can go to Walmart, or Princess auto, and actually fondle similar merchandise without the key wielding gestapo standing impatiently over my shoulder.
I go to the "express" cash with my can of silicone lube. There is a woman trying to exchange a pair of sunglasses. Trouble is, the old ones have no tag or bar code. The obese cashier is busily phoning departments to find out what to do - why doesn't she just send the sunglasses queen to customer service? I stand there for what seems like eternity, and then notice that the next guy in line in front of me has a fistful of documents. I put my can of lube on the counter, think to myself, "Hello Walmart!" and leave.
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