SRSLY.
Black shirts accentuating the pasty pallor, body mod, and dandruff of their workers aside… I’ve endured my last bit of nonsense as it pertains to this shithole of an arts and crafts (or as I am seething at the moment: FARTS AND DAFTS) supply store.
On an up note, it’s not so much a hassle to get there. It’s only about 15 minutes out of my way; and thanks to these "BIG BOX" type stores, I have to drive nearly 6-10 miles out of my way to get to the nearest independently owned yarn store. And sad to say? I'm unimpressed with that; but at least it's promising that the whole world does not have to use Red Heart and Bernat acrylic crap. As an aside: When the frig did Deborah Norville get her own yarn label?
Ordinarily, my first sign of a problem is when there isn’t a parking spot to be had.
Yet when I do find a spot and dare to go inside, regardless of the time of day or evening I go, invariably there are about 10-12 glum-faced folks standing in line at the SOLITARY cashier whose lane is open. A quick pop in to get one or two items crucial to finish a project evolves into a 20 minute ordeal, as I feel my sweat trickle down my back, pooling right above my anal cleft.
While I am ranting: Their restrooms are effing FILTHY. The only place that has filthier toilets is Pathmark or the A&P (sadly FOOD stores); and yet, the rest room at Grand Central which has seen more ass than the "conjugals" room in prison, is PRISTINE in comparison.
Let it be known Michaels is not a store I go to in which to “browse” to find inspiration; nor is it a place I go to in which to escape the monotony of the work-a-day; in short, it’s not a place I enjoy GOING TO. I only go out of necessity (both for shopping, and at times SHITTING; however, to me, the experience is interchangeable).
So it is with this seething HATE-ON for this place that I dared to drive there last night, after the snow storm, when the roads were reasonably clear, significantly clearer than they were during the morning drive in to work, only for me to pull into a parking spot, and suddenly a light went off outside. I blinked it away thinking my eyes were playing tricks on me.
I looked at the store, the interior lights were still on, so I turned the car off, and walked in the 20 degree (F) evening air, each step precariously placed on the snowy ground to the door, only to see they’ve locked up for the night, despite the posted hours of business being until nine p.m., nearly two more hours to go.
THIS is the final indignity I’ll allow Michael’s to impose upon me. They have lost my business, permanently.
To them I dare say "FUCK YOU!!," as I blissfully go to the A.C. Moore website, and am having a wonderful time, putting things into my virtual shopping cart, all manner of things I would have picked up last night. And then some.
I am not done; however as I clicked ORDER, I had over $77 in merchandise in my shopping cart. I would guess on average, Michaels had probably made close to $500 from me in the past year or so.
In this economy, I hope to God, Sweet merciful Jebus, Ceiling Cat and the FSM that Michaels ends up in the shitter. Their customer service SUCKS ASS. I really resent the "BIG BOX MENTALITY" (subtext: MONOPOLY) stores like this possess.
