A funny thing happened the other day. My car, nicknamed EFTPOS (EFecTive Piece Of Shit), was in dire need of an oil change and new air filter. A mate was giving me a hand and we headed off to Super Cheap Autos (they're so cheap, they don't have a website).
From my perspective; we walked in, went to Aisle C3 (or equivalent) where the oil and air filters were located. While flicking through the catalogue, the Spotty Teenage Manager (STM) appeared asking if we needed help. This was great. Normally you are left to wander the aisles, tempted by other crap while you search for want you actually came in to buy. I immediately got STM looking for spark plugs, air filters and suchlike. My mate was perturbed for some reason.
My mate's perspective; we walked in and went to Aisle C3. The checkout girl announces "Security to Aisle C3, security to Aisle C3" over the speakers. The STM appeared and enquired how he could help. My mate was pissed at having security called on us.
I'm half-deaf, and missed the intercom offence. It was only once we had lawfully purchased the goods with checkout girl and left the store, that he explained the reason for STM's assistance. Then it was my turn to be pissed. Call me sensitive, but I get offended when people unjustly accuse me of kleptomania or violence. Maybe they thought I was from Brotaki (Otaki to the PC, where the police have every weekend off), but that's no excuse to call security without good reason.
I'm not going to write to Super Cheap Autos to complain. I'm just going to bitch about the rude attitude of Super Cheap Autos to all and sundry and vow never to return to the franchise. That's the Kiwi way!