A New Toy

Antonio Gold stops in on another of his 'just seeing what's new' tours and takes a look at the new 'toys.' He is infatuated by Android phones but I won't let him get one.  Too much has been invested in Blackberry instruction and, since he won't touch the A-phone, there really is no obvious, easy new device.  Still, he is insistent.

"Ees just a toy.  Maybe I take it home, play with it, see if it works.  If not, I bring it back."
"Okay, but you know we have to charge you the restocking fee."
"Ees okay, I'll talk to the Bombay when I get back.  My buddy."
He winks at me and Brooklyn before returning to the new toy in his hand.  He has no idea what to do with the home screen, so he just turns it over and looks at the back.
"A good cámerá?"
"Yes, very good," I reply, picturing the countless sidewalk shots I'll have to delete when he returns this thing.  "But there's no upgrade on your account."
"Check the other lines." He waves his hand with his new phone-cum-magic wand.
"I have checked the other lines."
"See what you can do."

It's been seven years of seeing what I can do with Antonio Gold.

"No lines are eligible for upgrade.  I can extend one contract, but there won't be a discount."
"What's the rebate?" he asks.
"$100."
"Plus the rebate I got for this," he pats the Blackberry in his holster, "and my son's phone, it's almost free!"
Once he leads himself down this path of delusion, there's no sense in bringing him back.  He uses the same logic of magical extra rebates every time.  Rebates that repopulate like the loaves and the fishes are reused in his mind to justify the next purchase.  Never mind that they don't bring the $500 phone anywhere close to 'free.'  He doesn't care about the deal as much as he cares about trying to get it.  He'll reuse this rebate to justify his next 'toy' as well.

I run his card for almost six bills and he goes over the transaction again.
"So I got the phone," he taps an empty pocket. "Where is it?"
"Here," I respond "I just moved all your contacts over."
"Okay, I got the phone.  You are sending me the rebate.  When I get it, I'll bring it in and we'll see what's new.  With that, the last rebate, my son's phone....ees like half off."

I say nothing to correct the math and finish filling out the impossible rebate form.  I slice off the proof-of-purchase, fill out every last box, affix a duplicate receipt, grab an envelope, address it to the tiny P.O. box in Minnesota and hand it to Antonio Gold.

"All you have to do is put a stamp on it and put it in the mail.  They'll wait 2 months to make sure you haven't returned the phone and then they'll send you your hundred dollar gift card."

It's a really bad deal, but there's no stopping him.

The Assistant Manager, recognizing royalty, comes up between Brooklyn and me and reaches over the counter.  "Mister Gold, how are you?"
"Oh, you know, wife, girlfriend, just so busy!" He announces the last line to the entire store as he backs up toward the doors. He again pats his pockets before looking up to me,
"Hasta luego, Jason!"
"Adios, señor!"

The three of us watch him walk out the door.  Brooklyn and I shake our heads and look back down to our computer screens.  The Assistant Manager stays between us for a beat before quietly announcing,

"Umm...Cock Bombay needs to see you in his office."