Opening the plasticy bubble wrap around the lens of my new Nikon D40 was like Christmas times 1931923487123947123.
Waiting for the battery to charge is like that time you got that sah-wheet Barbie convertible Christmas morning that took like, nine D batteries and what do ya know, we don’t have any D batteries, you’re just going to have to wait, little Jenny, ‘cuz Santa hates you.

I did purchase my camera at a certain big-box retailer where the employees wear blue shirts. Even though said retailer was the bane of my existence when I worked there, I wanted to get the accidental service plan, as clearly I still am prone to dropping/spilling. I also expected the purchase process to be this glorious, perfect experience. I’ve been talking about getting a digital SLR FOREVER. It’s been my Obsession of the Year. When I walked in, I wanted a fucking parade.

I should have known better. I was approached by an employee who looked kind of familiar, when I realized that it was a district manager dressed in regular blues. (I will not name names, but for those in the know, his name rhymes with Pot Dittipeau) I kept reading his face, wondering if he recognized who I was. If he did, that was the reason he made NO effort to sell me anything. If he didn’t, he should probably be fired, because bro does not practice what he preaches. Awkward. Anyway, he hands me off to another associate and as she’s ringing me up I mention I’d like to pricematch Walmart, where the camera is $20 cheaper. I play dumb and ask if she could pricematch Costco, knowing they couldn’t. But she did! Either this is a new policy or I totally bucked the system. With that and the SD card I got on sale, I saved about $100. A-mah-zing!

For now I must wait for that charge light to go green and channel my inner Leibovitz.