WHAT does Marsellus Wallace LOOK LIKE?
Bed Bath and Beyond is the worst store ever.
I've become quite the connoisseur of America's big-box stores, living where I do, and I say this as a credentialed expert: That fucking place sucks.
There's a huge one about half a mile from us. It's acres and acres of fluorescent-lit agony, a carnival freakshow of stuff that looks like something from afar, only to resolve into not a goddamn thing when you get close up.
Having struck out at the comparatively wonderful Target, Pier One, Costco, Cost Plus World Market, and even Toys R Us (a nightmare for another lifetime), I went in there looking for curtains for my kid's room, and some sort of closet organizer system. You'll probably agree that both of these things fall under the first B in the store's name, one-third of its entire goddamn raison d'etre -- "Bed."
Well. It's not like they don't have selection. The joint is jam-packed with what I have to conclude are factory seconds from a fourth-tier manufacturing town in the most benzene-and-bisphenol-soaked valley in China -- every inch of the walls, every inch of floor, hanging from the ceiling, falling out of display stands, there is product. But none of it is quality, none of it is what you need, all of it is some weird third-cousin offshoot of maybe some brand you might have heard of once. The sizes aren't standard -- everything's like two-thirds of an inch off. It's all flimsy, and nowhere near as cheap as the goods warrant. You keep thinking, "Ahh yes, this is the section I need ..." and you wander in and thirty minutes later you're still pawing through this insane jumble of curtainlike matter, mumbling "Who makes thirty-one-inch curtains? Is this faux leather? What's that green -- oh god, I saw this at the mortuary at my grandmother's funeral ..." and finally you leave the store, exhausted and demoralized, with nothing but a little tube of tiny M&Ms that your kid found in some random display near the exit and you want to burn the place down with everybody in it.
Worst. Store. Ever.
I've become quite the connoisseur of America's big-box stores, living where I do, and I say this as a credentialed expert: That fucking place sucks.
There's a huge one about half a mile from us. It's acres and acres of fluorescent-lit agony, a carnival freakshow of stuff that looks like something from afar, only to resolve into not a goddamn thing when you get close up.
Having struck out at the comparatively wonderful Target, Pier One, Costco, Cost Plus World Market, and even Toys R Us (a nightmare for another lifetime), I went in there looking for curtains for my kid's room, and some sort of closet organizer system. You'll probably agree that both of these things fall under the first B in the store's name, one-third of its entire goddamn raison d'etre -- "Bed."
Well. It's not like they don't have selection. The joint is jam-packed with what I have to conclude are factory seconds from a fourth-tier manufacturing town in the most benzene-and-bisphenol-soaked valley in China -- every inch of the walls, every inch of floor, hanging from the ceiling, falling out of display stands, there is product. But none of it is quality, none of it is what you need, all of it is some weird third-cousin offshoot of maybe some brand you might have heard of once. The sizes aren't standard -- everything's like two-thirds of an inch off. It's all flimsy, and nowhere near as cheap as the goods warrant. You keep thinking, "Ahh yes, this is the section I need ..." and you wander in and thirty minutes later you're still pawing through this insane jumble of curtainlike matter, mumbling "Who makes thirty-one-inch curtains? Is this faux leather? What's that green -- oh god, I saw this at the mortuary at my grandmother's funeral ..." and finally you leave the store, exhausted and demoralized, with nothing but a little tube of tiny M&Ms that your kid found in some random display near the exit and you want to burn the place down with everybody in it.
Worst. Store. Ever.
Labels: first-world problems, PMFSA, things that are bad for the world
posted by Gleemonex at 9:33 AM
4 Comments:
I thought I was the only one who would go in there with bright ideas and dreams and come out with bupkis. I eventually stopped shopping there - coupon or no coupon.
what i can't figure out is how people register there for gifts. like, what in the world is there to point a gun at except maybe a half broken shadowbox dedicated to coffee/wine consumption and/or living, loving and laughing?
I always use that large 20% off coupon that arrives in the mail. There are two things I buy there - hand soap refill and trash can liners.
bonnjill: I'm starting to be convinced it's a front of some sort. Like there's a secret window where you get your medical marijuana or something -- the "Beyond" part, doncha know.
Francine: "a half broken shadowbox dedicated to coffee/wine consumption and/or living, loving and laughing?" [DYING!!!!]
marcus: Smart ... but still walking the knife's edge of sanity ...
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