I went to Canadian Tire today to buy an item advertised in their flyer as seen at left—a utility dolly or cart for moving heavy stuff around. Item number 60-0513-6. My mother-in-law is moving, and I have a bad back.
Now I have a bad attitude about Canadian Tire, too.
I drove a considerable distance to the nearest Canadian Tire, and they were all out of them.
This is about the eight time I’ve gone to a Canadian Tire to buy something out of their flyer, only to find they were out of them. Do they actually stock things that they put in their flyer? I have scant little evidence that they do.
After a long frustrating effort trying to find an employee to ask about possible additional stock of this item located someplace other than where the displays are, I found a young girl wearing way-too-tight jean-type pants way too low, and with a piercing in her nose, and I asked her, politely, if she had a moment to help me.
Well that was obviously my mistake. Shame on me. What a buffoon.
She immediately assumed this sort of semi-concealed drawn and bothered and harassed appearance, and without even opening her mouth, I felt as though she virtually shouted, “no, jackass, I have no time for you, I’m already too overworked and I hate my job, and by the way I hate it when customers ask me for help, and you are shit to me.” Naturally I’m reading into this a little. On the other hand, I’m also biting my tongue.
She did offer up, plaintively, “what can I help you with?”, as she at the same time found the sudden need to wipe her nose with her hand. I sure hope she didn’t get her filthy nose-wiping hand caught up in that fabulous nose piercing which was making me want to vomit.
I answered that I was real sorry for bothering her and for getting in the way of her important other stuff, and told her that I no longer need to ask her anything. And I headed for the exit. Royally pissed.
Undaunted, I drove to an even further-away Canadian Tire store, and after an extensive search, found the item, albeit in a sort of maybe somebody returned it and the store kind of re-wrapped and re-packaged it condition.
It had no “sale” tag on it or on the shelf it was on—just the regular price. Well I’ve been there before. You take it up to the cashier, and they ring it in, and it comes up as the regular price. Then you have to tell them that it’s on sale. Then they tell you “this is the price that’s in our system” (or something equally useful), then you show them a flyer, then they reluctantly ring it in at the advertised price, all the while holding up the line of Canucks who hate, hate, hate you and everything you stand for now that you’ve (you!) delayed them all this time it took to clarify the proper price.
So to avoid that, I took preemptive action and once again located an employee, who once again responded as though I just harassed him with the burden of his lifetime. He was, after all, moving some boxes around when I asked him for help. And who am I to assume I’m more important than a cardboard box full of ironing board covers? What an ass I am. What a nuisance. Shame on me.
I showed him the flyer and the item and the price tags and told him that I wanted to verify, before going to the line-up, that this item was in fact on sale at this price of $49.99, His answer was, well, (a) he didn’t really know or care (I’m reading into it again); and (b) shut up and take it to the line-up, stand there with the other plebeians as though you are living in the Soviet Union, then tell the cashier that the price is wrong on the price tag, and yadda yadda, there ya go, good luck, see ya, got boxes to move, peace out.
Oh excellent.
Exasperated, I didn’t thank him and just proceeded to haul the item (quite heavy and bulky in its unassembled—God-awful Ikea-style—condition) clear across the store (the ever-so helpful clerk re-attends to his ever-so important box moving, right in front of my face, without offering to help) and get to the cash register and waited in the long line (there are at least eight cash registers, but just two open, as is always, always, always the case at every Canadian Tire store), armed with my flyer evidence, and prepared to engage in another embarrassing little bicker-fest over nothingness which is in no way my fault.
Turns out I got through without a hitch. I was happy happy happy. Now I could get back home and get to work.
Of course I had to put the thing together first.
No instructions. No problem, it’s easy to put together, I’m mechanically-inclined, and this is not an issue. I reach for the big bag of bolts and things to put it together, and find that both the top and bottom of the plastic bag o’ nuts and bolts and cotter pins is open, so the entire contents dumps onto my lawn.
After picking up all the 50 or so washers and bolts and so on, I suddenly realize that I haven’t yet seen the main axle for the dolly, which is what the big main dolly wheels roll on. It’s basically half the point of the whole dolly. I look around me and sure enough, no axle. It wasn’t included in the package.
Two or three hours have passed since I ventured out and patronized Canadian Tire in good faith today. In gas and time wasted, I could have saved a bundle by going to Home Depot or Rona and getting a dolly at regular price from their vast selection. Which is exactly what I’m going to do.
COMMENTS ALLOWED for this blog entry.
PTBC was founded by Mr. Johannesen in 2000.
Contact Mr. Johannesen about this article using this form. Please refer to article's title.
FOLLOW @JoelJohannesen ON X!
- Canadian Liberals and other leftists hated America 20 years ago too - Wednesday July 23, 2025 at 3:25 pm
- “PROUD?” —PROJECT SUSPENDED - Monday July 21, 2025 at 11:35 am
- Proud To Be Canadian? Maybe Not. - Tuesday December 17, 2024 at 2:07 pm
