When did using the word "wrestling" become a no-no to the WRESTLING business?

It was announced last week on World Wrestling Entertainment's TV programming that comedian Drew Carey would be inducted into the World Wrestling Entertainment Hall of Fame as part of the 2011 class of honorees to be presented during the festivities surrounding WrestleMania 27.  I know what you're probably thinking, "Wrestling?  What the hell does Drew Carey have to do with wrestling?"  In 2001, Carey was invited to take part in the Royal Rumble, an annual, live wrestling event held by World Wrestling Entertainment and broadcast to the rest of the globe via pay-per-view wherein as many as 40 wrestlers wrestle to become the last wrestler standing inside the wrestling ring.  Carey is being inducted into World Wrestling Entertainment's Hall of Fame because he was the first-ever celebrity entrant in the Royal Rumble wrestling match.

Not a "professional wrestling" event.

In case you weren't counting, I used the word "wrestling" (or some derivative thereof) 13 times in my opening paragraph.  I did so because of the fact that "wrestling" is apparently now a cursed word as it pertains to World Wrestling Entertainment.

Over the weekend, Chuck Ross - a managing director of TVWeek.com - published a piece relating how Kellie Baldyga, a publicist from WWE, had contacted him with demands to remove an article TV Week had put out about Carey's induction into the Hall of Fame (read Ross' full commentary here).  The article was titled "Drew Carey Inducted Into Pro Wrestling Hall of Fame. Huh? Drew Carey??!!"  In his recounting of the matter, Ross details a conversation he had with WWE's publicist; what follows are direct quotes from his write-up.

Ross: Your release says that Carey is being recognized as being an entrant in the 2001 Royal Rumble. I believe that was a wrestling event.

Baldyga: No, we don't do wrestling events. They're entertainments. And we don’t call them wrestlers. They’re superstars and divas.

Ross: Kellie, I really don't have time for this. WWE presents wrestling events. I'm not going to change the headline or anything in the item. If you'd like, I'll just remove it.

Baldyga: Huh? What?

Ross: Kellie, I don't have time for this. What do you want me to do?

Baldyga: Remove it.

Its been common knowledge to people who have followed the wrestling business in the United States for at least the past decade that the powers that be within World Wrestling Entertainment (read, Vince McMahon) have mobilized an effort for the company to broaden its horizons beyond just wrestling.  Movies, music, books, magazines, even a professional football league to rival the NFL - WWE has definitely tried to break the mold of their business model as it related exclusively to wrestling in order to create a much more diverse entity.  Most of these efforts have been met with mild success at best (the most glaring failure being the XFL, which I honestly thought was a decent idea in concept), meanwhile the wrestling-end of the company has thrived all along.  Why then would they want to make an apparent move away from what has been their bread & butter product, a product that they now govern over in a totalitarian methodology thanks to having consumed their primary competition years ago?

Money, of course.

Most states have licensing requirements imposed by an official government body such as the state athletic commission or division of labor, licensing, and regulation when it comes to sports like boxing and mixed martial arts.  These licenses are effective in that they insure athletes involved are healthy enough to compete. (Be that as it may, the licenses guarantee nothing in the way of a competitor's training or aptitude when it comes to their given combat art.) Stiff fines and other penalties can be dolled out if a person is found to be involved with a promotion but is not licensed.  Professional wrestling is generally recognized with similar requirements, however, some states don't mandate such things when it comes to wrestling.  Given that wrestling promoters are already required to go through the processes of obtaining a range of permits for their events, it stands to reason that they might want to avoid further expenses incurred by inadvertently (or purposefully) employing talent who do not have their licenses in order.

Another aspect to this argument is the fact that WWE classifies their talent as independent contractors and not employees of the company.  In doing so, WWE gets out of having to provide benefits to their wrestlers.  This is something that affects aging talent who have amassed years worth of injuries and who may not be able to afford the cost of treatment.  WWE does cover the cost of surgeries or procedures required as a result of injuries suffered by talent while they are under contract; likewise, they offer a wellness program for talent with substance abuse issues.  Be that as it may, many feel that WWE does just enough to get by when they could be doing much more to improve the lives of the men and women who have made the company into a billion dollar, publicly traded company.

Consider the quotes I referenced and how the publicist from WWE made a thorough effort to correct the reporter's every usage of the word "wrestling" in relation to the company.  "We're not a wrestling company, we're a global media company...They're not wrestlers, they're superstars and divas...We don't promote wrestling matches, we promote entertainments."  I'm trying to give this policy an ounce of credibility but that last bit is pushing it.  "Entertainments"?  I would've loved to have been a fly on the wall during the meeting in which that decision was made.

Truth be told, there's so little actual wrestling involved with WWE programming these days that I'm almost in agreement with the idea that WWE talent shouldn't be referred to as "wrestlers". (This is why if I'm going to attend a WWE event I prefer the non-televised events as they don't waste time with interviews, promos, replays, or what have you.) Sure there are televised matches but they typically run less than 10 minutes a pop - for example, on the March 14, 2011 edition of WWE's Monday Night Raw program (which has a running time of 2 hours) the average match length was just slightly greater than 3 minutes (the numbers don't lie).  Lou Thesz was a wrestler.  Arn Anderson was a wrestler.  Ric Flair was a wrestler.  Steve Austin was a wrestler.  What they did throughout their careers was vastly different than what the "superstars" of today are responsible for.

I'm curious as to whether or not McMahon & Co. believe that their legal team might be savy enough to actually convince a judge that their talent aren't wrestlers but rather entertainers, and that they aren't promoting athletic events at all but instead something more akin to a play, thereby skirting all matters relating to permitting and licenses.  It's semantics but it's a decent argument, and what's the harm in them trying?  I'd actually like to see it played out in court if only to learn about how sternly it gets shot down because the judge assigned to the litigation was a huge Blackjack Mulligan fan and refuses to let these tools ruin the professional wrestling business any more than they already have.

Quite a few people in and around the wrestling industry have said over the years that if Vince McMahon, Sr. knew what his son was going to do with the company he started way back when he'd have probably sold it to someone else.  As much as I am a fan of wrestling in general (WWE included), I have to admit that my frustration with the WWE product is at an all-time high.  I miss tag team wrestling.  I miss the days when a world title had meaning and didn't look like a hubcap.  I miss hard-nosed competitors who didn't have to have any reasoning for wanting to best their opponent beyond the fact that they just plain wanted to beat the snot out of them and anyone else who got in their way.  I guess it's a good thing, then, that a big part of WWE's business model is the sale of retrospective DVDs with content from bygone eras.  It seems like the only way I'll get to see the types of wrestling that I have grown to love is to look at items from the past, as if staring upon them from a display in a museum.

I like museums.

My Frustration with Pollination

It's been postulated that animals don't have sex for pleasure, rather they engage in coitus purely based upon the instinct to mate and thereby reproduce.  The assumption, of course, being that it's one of those innate behaviors animals exhibit because they're not equipped with the mental capacity to differentiate between desire and instinct.  There's a certain morality and nobility to that line of thought, really.  Almost as if to say that animals are superior to humans because they're seemingly incapable of allowing their carnal needs to supersede leading an otherwise dignified existence.  There would be no equivalent to the Maury Povich show in the animal kingdom, in other words, because all baby daddies would own up to their chil'ren and support them accordingly.

Undoubtedly a lot of time, effort, and money has been put towards proving the validity of this claim even though I'm fairly certain that my parents' Dachshund disproved the theory by regularly dry-humping a large teddy bear they'd given him.  He didn't care about whether or not he was impregnating a willing lady and furthering his species in the process, all he was focused upon was that knew what he was doing felt good at the time.  Sadly, the little guy didn't get to enjoy himself for long - he was neutered in an effort to improve his temperament (I was against the idea at first but it wound up that he had an un-descended testicle which could've caused him serious issues in the future had it not been dealt with).  It wound up improving his attitude and his appetite.

Plants, on the other hand, are a perfect example of the before mentioned thesis.  I don't know about you, but I've never seen a tree uproot itself to go get busy with another tree in a different part of town because all the trees around it were frigid or just plain not his type.  Plants are stuck in a cyclical system of sexual reproduction whereby they rely on the wind or various insects and critters to distribute pollen, their sickly, dull, yellow-colored seed.  And therein lies the problem for people such as myself who suffer from allergies made all the more worse by this process we call pollination.

The part of the world I'm from isn't a concrete jungle; we have lots of trees, shrubbery, farmland, and what have you down here and it makes for a beautiful, lush landscape.  When springtime comes around and all those things I mentioned start firing off their collective copulation payload, every unprotected surface gets coated with the stuff, giving the terrain a dingy, muted glaze the color of a boiled egg's yoke.  We've had particularly dry conditions the past few years which allows the pollen to gather upon the ground almost like grains of sand and nearly as thick in some areas.  Around this time a year ago my wife was in the process of having her bridal portraits made, some of which were going to be taken outside.  She and the photographer actually had concerns over the fact that there was so much pollen floating around that it could stain her wedding dress.  It's to a point right now that if I walk across the parking lot of my office building I can scrub my shoes off on the welcome mats and leave a trail of pollen behind.  Similarly, my truck is a kind of burnt orange color but right now it has a completely unappealing yellow tinge (as does most every other vehicle).  What's worse is that it does no good to bother washing it because the residual moisture will only act as a sponge for more pollen!

My Mom had me tested for allergies when I was a kid - it's a normal procedure for children to have, right in line with immunizations and regular check-ups.  I don't remember the scenario as it was done when I was very young but for those who don't know, the process of testing someone for allergies is such that you're basically turned into a human pin cushion.  Needles coated with different substances are jabbed into your skin, normally on a large surface such as your back or arms, and then doctors can tell you what you're allergic to based on the materials to which you react.

Considering the amount of allergy medication I've taken in my lifetime (pills, nasal sprays, injections - you name it, I've had it), I figure I must have turned funny colors and swollen up like an Elephantiasis patient after my test.  Fortunately, allergies are something you can grow out of and mine have become less severe over the years (better cleaning and air conditioning technology has helped as well in cutting down on my exposure to dust and other airborne particulates around the house).  Be that as it may, when springtime approaches and plants start pumping out pollen I have to stock up on medication - and tissues.

My allergies manifest themselves in a number of ways.  I can sometimes feel an allergy attack coming on as the skin around my neck and face will become warm and flushed.  This is a precursor to a range of other symptoms, none of which are particularly less than gross to have to deal with.  The effects of my allergies on my eyes can vary from causing them to become either watery, sticky, or dry. (For example, as I write this post I'm blinking through blurry splotches as today is a sticky kind of day.) Seeing as how my eyesight isn't that great to begin with, the additional strain put on them by this set of possibilities doesn't help matters.  Aside from the already mentioned redness, skin irritation has never been much of a problem for me.  My sinuses, on the other hand, are the real horror show.  I won't go into great detail about that side of my allergies here; suffice it to say that mucus and I are well acquainted with one another to the point of where we're either best friends or worst enemies.  The most annoying thing about when my slimy cohort arrives is that it often sets in at night.  Sometimes I'll even be woken up from a sound sleep by a sneeze which is almost never easy to recover from in that I have great difficulty getting back to sleep.  Trust me when I say that the infomercials on at 4 AM aren't all that entertaining.

So what are people like myself to do this time of year?  Stay indoors as much as possible, take our medication, and pray for rain until the annual botanical orgy is over with.  It's a defeatist attitude, I admit, but in a fight against Mother Nature more often than not you're better off trying to seek shelter than mount an offensive.  I haven't put the idea of buying a gas mask with filters specifically for particulates completely out of mind.

I Hate Movie Re-Makes

Creativity isn't like land, crude oil, or other finite resources.  Theoretically, it's something that we should never run out of, yet for way too many years now it has seemed as though that's exactly what's happened in Hollywood.  Sure, there are still new concepts being put into production on a regular basis that warrant getting whipped up into a tizzy over but the trend of bringing back what have been, generally speaking, already successful franchises with modern re-makes that don't hold a candle to their source material has gotten to a level of absurdity generally reserved for Saturday night SyFy (pronounced "siff-ee") Channel original movies (I'm pretty sure they only use the "originals" production tag line to let people know it was them who was responsible for the schlock-fest they're about to sit through and not a superior company).  Case in point, the trailer below released today for a re-do of 1982's "Conan the Barbarian", which originally starred Arnold Schwarzenegger as the loincloth-wearing Cimmerian slave turned swordsman, Conan.

There's not much to criticize here in terms of the content of the movie itself seeing as how this is a teaser trailer which is intended to say to an audience, "Hey, look at me - I'm a movie you might like to watch in theaters...Or ignore in theaters and rent from Netflix a few months from now...Or ignore altogether...Whichever works for you!"  It could turn out to be a decent flick or it could be a theatrical turd - who's to say at this point?  My argument is the fact that it didn't need to be made in the first place.  I'm under the impression that a lot (read, most) of these re-vamps are done thanks to the argument being made that the original films look dated.  No kidding, a movie made in 1982 (in this case) with costumes, props, and effects cobbled together on a budget that wouldn't even handle the cost of Kraft services on a movie set these days looks dated?!

Isn't this art we're talking about after all?  The preservation of the original piece in question isn't only about maintaining its novel content but also because it reaches back into a bygone era and shows us a glimpse of where we were culturally and historically at that specific moment.  By the logic of certain Hollywood executives we should've torn down the Sistine Chapel and put up a newer, more hip version in its place years ago (you know, one with product placement - instead of God reaching out to touch His creation, Adam, we can have Him passing his new best bro a Bud Light and a bag of Doritos).  I guess since the Mona Lisa was painted in the 16th century someone should re-do that, too - that chick has got to have some lines in her face by now...

Another argument in favor of re-imagining (that's the cushiest term I've ever seen used to describe what amounts, in some instances, to the wholesale pillaging of some of my favorite childhood stories) these movies is that they have a fairly big upside advantage in terms of their being more likely to turn a profit.  They're easier to develop since there's plenty of existing material to draw inspiration from and they're also easier to market seeing as how people will recognize the title from its previous release. Lets face facts, here - making movies is as much a business as selling cars is.  Studios make movies to turn a profit, hence the reasoning behind why executives are more likely to green-light a re-make before they would n original piece written by an unheard of author and pitched by a director whose only prior experience is tuna commercials.  It's unfortunate that creativity gets squelched in favor of regurgitation, but that's the way bile flows sometimes.

As far as I'm concerned, unless the original film was decent-to-good but could've been great with a little extra effort, budget, technology, etc. that modern film-making can provide, re-treading a movie is a horrible idea.    Just because the original doesn't have a whole bunch of computer generated imagery or wasn't shot entirely with actors standing in front of green screens doesn't warrant a do-over.  A prime example of this is 2010's re-make of "The Karate Kid".  I'm likely to draw some heat for this but I didn't particularly care for it - and why should I?  I grew up with the original; Ralph Macchio and Pat Morita in a classic coming-of-age tale set around teen drama and karate tournaments.  The new version was horribly bloated, significantly more unrealistic than its predecessor, and plays like a tourism video intended to make communist China look like a great vacation destination.  Will Smith's a great guy for getting his son some work but I hate it came at the cost of soiling a set of movies I've always appreciated.

Lastly, my best reasoning for not re-making a movie as it applies to "Conan the Barbarian" specifically
 is the fact that if a new "Barbarian" is unleashed, the world might very well forget one of the greatest lines in the entire history of cinema.

You stay classy, Jack Leggett

Clemson baseball coach Jack Leggett doing his best Emperor Palpatine impression

One of the greatest collegiate sports rivalries that very few people outside of South Carolina seem to know much about exists between the University of South Carolina Gamecocks and Clemson University Tigers.  We don't have many major media markets down here in the "deep south", which is what I blame for the rest of the world's ignorance on what is a fantastic feud.  The gridiron has served as the most vivid battlefield upon which this rivalry has been contested, but recently the eyes and interest of the fans have shifted to another patch of grass as it has grown to envelope the baseball diamond as well thanks to both schools fielding stellar teams.  But what is a great college rivalry without a few shenanigans along the way?

The Reedy River Rivalry, as it has become known, was played out this year in a 3-game format - one game each in Columbia, Clemson, and Greenville (a neutral site).  By the time the teams reached the third game, both squads had gotten a win in the series meaning that the rubber match would decide the victor, as it should.

An aside to this story is the matter of Carolina using composite baseball bats.  These bats differ from traditional aluminum bats in that they have a graphite core which some believe hampers power hitters from getting the same drive as they could with all-metal bats, yet others feel it improves their chances as the trampoline effect that comes from a batter making contact with the ball is greater thanks to the graphite core.  Regardless, apparently these bats have something in common with small children and women in that they perform better when they can get all snugly and warm, which is why a lot of teams have begun using bat warmers - even teams playing in the south where temperatures are generally more moderate during baseball season.

Before you go searching for an NCAA baseball rule book, I can assure you that as of this writing there is nothing illegal about using a bat warmer as they are actually necessary in certain parts of the country.  At this point, coaches could conceivably install a pottery kiln in their dugouts if they wanted.  The logistics of a hitter, catcher, umpire, pitcher, fans or some combination thereof having to dodge shrapnel coming from a bat that exploded upon contact because it was near frozen isn't something the NCAA wants to have to deal with, needless to say.

In the first inning of game 3 of the series, Gamecock star outfielder Jackie Bradley, Jr. hit a solo home run to give Carolina an early lead.  After Bradley had rounded the bases, Clemson coach Jack Leggett approached the head umpire Scott Erby to ask him to check Bradley's bat to make sure it was legal.  Leggett felt he had justification for doing so thanks to his catcher, Phil Pohl, having alleged that several of the bats used by Gamecock hitters in earlier games of the series were "hot". (Apparently Pohl spends a fair amount of time checking other men's bats...)

The unwritten rule in baseball has always been that it isn't cheating unless you get caught as players have thought of some rather ingenious tactics over the years to get over on each other including everything from hitters using excessive and strategically placed pine tar on their bats to pitchers using mucus to put an extra slick spin on the ball.  For this reason, it's within Leggett's rights as a coach to call for a bat check but to say he was grasping at straws would be an understatement.  I don't guess you can blame him for trying to fire up his team with this sort of tactic, even though doing so is akin to Clemson football coach Dabo Sweeney complaining to a referee that Steve Spurrier had his equipment manager polish the Gamecocks helmets too highly, causing a distracting glare. (I'm sure the fact that the visiting team's sideline at Carolina's Williams-Brice Stadium faces the sun as it sets and gets absolutely zero shade during afternoon games was never considered during construction.)

Bradley's bat passed the umpire's inspection and play resumed with Carolina eventually winning the game 5-4 as well as the series.  Deciding to go with the old adage of what's good for the goose (Er, Gamecock?) is good for the gander, Clemson University has deployed their own, state-of-the-art bat warming technology.

Good ol' "Cow Tech" - leading the way in advancing humanity's usage of manure.

Reason #340,781 to avoid Wal-Mart

Once upon a time, I worked with the public.  I sold cellular phones and pagers for almost 6 years after I got out of college - if you've ever wanted a soul crushing experience, try to maintain the will to provide anything resembling excellent customer service when your customer base is mostly made up of whiny 15 year old kids who want to know why their pre-paid phone didn't survive getting dropped in a toilet.

That said, I get that it's tough to be in retail.  I don't think anyone really wants those jobs as they're basically one step removed from janitorial services on the totem pole of importance to a given company, so it's no wonder they don't exactly attract the highest level of professionals.  Likewise, low-level management positions don't usually get many applicants with MBA's from prestigious universities (or even half-way decent community colleges for that matter).  So is it any wonder that when my wife and I went to Wal-Mart last week we encountered several individuals employed there who were, shall we say, less than stellar when it comes to creating a positive shopping experience?

We'd gone out to dinner earlier in the evening and were rounding up some groceries and supplies.  Typically we shop at Bi-Lo or Reid's (a local chain with an affiliation to Food Lion), but there are some products that we persist in buying from Wal-Mart simply because of the fact that they're cheaper there.  On our list this particular evening were lean ground beef, laundry detergent, and a few other random items.  It turned out that their supply of lean ground had been exhausted so we got what was left on our order and headed to the check-outs.

The Wal-Mart in Orangeburg is unlike most Wal-Marts in that there are no self-serve check-outs.  I don't know the specific reason for this but I'll hazard a guess by saying that they're probably worried installing them would "improve" the local crime rate.  Instead they rely totally on traditional cashiers.  One would expect, then, that since Wal-Mart is the primary retail outlet in a small town like Orangeburg that there would be enough cashiers to handle the volume of customers.  I also expect to find one-billion dollars in my living room when I wake up tomorrow morning - doesn't mean it's going to happen, now, does it?

We get to the front of the store and there are 4 registers open; two on the grocery side and two on the general merchandise side (none being of the "express" variety).  Each register had roughly 12-15 people in line, all with loaded buggies.  As we get in line, the cashier shouts in our direction for us to let people coming in know that she's closing down her register and that we'd be her last customers.  Why the task of relating bad news fell to us I can only blame on horribly poor timing on our part.  The thing about bad news is that it tends to put people into bad moods, and bad moods within groups of people tend to lead to things like the development of angry hordes complete with pitchforks and flaming torches.  We didn't incite a riot in doing as we were asked but we definitely added to the general feeling of frustration amongst the townsfolk.

With the store now down to three manned registers, we and the other customers continued stewing over our current situation.  It was around this point that we remembered another feature that seems to be unique to this particular Wal-Mart.  At every check-out there's a framed picture of a woman named Peggy who is the store's general manager with an attached note which states something along the lines of "If you are not satisfied with your experience at our store, please call and tell us about it."  And that's exactly what we did - we whipped out our cell phones and dialed the number on the note.  We were both put on hold but my wife did get to speak to a manager by the name of Bernadette.

Hello, my name Peggy - how may I offend you today?

My wife was agitated, obviously, and so was I, however she rather politely asked Bernadette why it was that the store only had 3 functioning check-outs given that there are so many customers to be processed.  Bernadette's response was:

"Well I was about to come up front and open another register but I had to stop and answer your phone call..."

My wife is blond with blue eyes, just over five feet tall with a sweet attitude - she's arguably one of the cutest little things you could ever hope to lay eyes on.  Be that as it may, after her encounter with Bernadette my wife took on the countenance of a rattlesnake that had just found out it was being audited by the IRS.  The transformation was a bit startling but not without merit as I wasn't very pleased about how things had sorted out either. (I never got to speak to Bernadette as she was apparently the only manager on duty and had other matters to attend to.)

We eventually did make it through the check-out.  Upon leaving the store, my loving, gentle, flower petal of a wife unleashed a tirade with content typically reserved for late night stand-up comics appearing on paid cable networks.  It wasn't intended to be funny but it was so out of character I found it hilarious.

Needless to say, neither of us were particularly happy with our retail experience which is why the next day I decided to make a follow-up call to our local Wal-Mart, hoping again to speak to Peggy.  Alas, Peggy was unavailable - this has lead me to believe that Peggy is not so much a "who" but rather a "what", meaning that she isn't a she at all but rather some machination of their corporate structure intended to give disgruntled customers a name and a face that is accessible in times like this.  Instead I was directed to another member of their managerial staff named Andrew Wolf, who was actually quite agreeable and helpful in listening to what I had to say about our ordeal.  He assured me that the matter would be looked into internally and offered to give us a $20 gift card for our troubles.

Money - distracting people from actual problems since the idea of money came into being...

Andrew had given me his cell phone number so I decided to call him to make sure he'd be around when I went to pick up the gift card.  I was on my lunch break when I contacted him and as it turned out he was taking his break at the same time.  He instructed me to go to the customer service desk and ask for another manager named Keith who would be able to assist me in his stead.  I went to customer service and asked for Keith - wouldn't you know it, Keith is on his lunch break too!  Funny thing was, after my initial request for aid several employees asked if I needed assistance as I was standing around the customer service area waiting for one of these phantom managers to materialize.  Several of them tried to use their radios in an attempt to contact Keith; apparently the matter warranted something resembling an all-points bulletin being put out on the guy - I appreciated their effort, regardless.

After about 30 minutes of waiting around and almost assuredly making several people feel uncomfortable (I guess a 6'3", 300 lb., 30-something male wearing business attire standing at the front of a Wal-Mart store is out of the ordinary?), Keith showed up, Sub-Way sandwich bag in hand.  It took him a few minutes to get his bearings as to what I was inquiring about.  He ducked off into what I assume was an accounting office behind the customer service area.  On his way there I noticed he stopped to ask one of the employees at the desk where another manager was.  The employee replied that the person he was looking for had left and this seemed to make Keith a bit agitated, leading me to believe that Peggy's grip on the reigns at this store isn't as tight as the home office would probably like for it to be.  Be that as it may, Keith emerged from the office a few minutes later with a gift card as well as a form for me to sign.  I'm guessing here but I take it the form is to circumvent people who might be attempting to fleece Wal-Mart out of their profitability by issuing multiple complaints to getting card after card.

Leaving the store that day with our gift card I couldn't help but think about how silly the whole situation was.  We, as modern consumerists, expect to have our immediate needs handled in such a way that any amount of delay is a problem.  I blame this here thing called the Internet, personally - damned thing is just too swift at delivering our every desire nowadays (28.8k 4 Life).  Patience, it seems, has gone the way of the Dodo.  But so too has the concept of customer service and most certainly the idea of a customer "always being right".  It seems to me that this level of resentment comes from people working in roles like that of a cashier who just plain hate their jobs and pass on that bitterness to their customers via general douchebaggery.  Take a note from someone who's been there - if you dislike your condition that much, don't take it out on people who had nothing to do with you getting stuck there.  Change takes effort, not gift cards.