Your casual indifference towards me today has guaranteed that I will never set foot in your store again. While I will still frequent Best Buy, your particular location has lost me. I can understand that the day-to-day demands of retail - particularly Tuesdays, when new dvds, cds, and games street - can sometimes prevent one from being as attentive to customer needs as one might like. This, I thought, initially explained your response of a lazy, vague gesture towards the area where I should search for the item that I inquired after. Quickly, however, was this notion erased when I, not mere moments later, observed you casually chatting away with two of your similarly-unoccupied, fellow employees. I still hadn't found what I'd entered your store looking for, but since your need for chit-chat was seemingly more important than your or your employer's need for any revenue that I would've provided upon my visit, I decided that I would instead give my hard-earned dollars to the other Best Buy locations that I've visited in the past, where my presence as a customer is at least acknowledged.
You see, my dear, you were simply the last straw. On each of my previous visits to your particular store, I've gone largely unnoticed by your fellow coworkers, unable to track any of them down on the sales floor when I needed assistance. Strange behavior for a relatively new member of our local business community.
Speaking of which, as I am an employee of a neighboring competitor, I do feel it my duty to advise my customers to likewise spend their income at retailers whose employees at least appear to want their business.