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Posted by John Golden at 08:52 AM
November 30, 2006

Panda Express At Best Buy
Best Buy is like the diner of consumer goods. From high tech washing machines, flat screen TVs to super computers the store is a marvel of product intrigue, as varied as yard-long menus of meat loaf, burgers, fries and coq au vin at a highway pit stop.

I went recently to the local Best Buy in search of a new desktop, since my Gateway Media Center finally failed in the flush of an overtaxed hard drive– overwhelmed perhaps by too many caustic restaurant reviews.

I settled on the sleek all in one Sony Vaio–no wires, no tower, all wrapped into one neat package with enough flashy gadgetry as awesome as the tasting menu at Hugo’s.

I’ve been a frequent shopper at Best Buy in the last several months, filling my new house with all sorts of consumer goods like jazzy looking washing machines and dryers, LCD TVs, video cables, surround sound and all the doodads of consumer overspending.

And I have to admit that each time I go to the Mall, which isn’t all that often, I go to the Food Hall first, as though sustenance is required before encountering a critical mass of shoppers that flood this place at all hours.

Yes, I’m addicted to Panda Express, and to some small measure Best Buy.

Without fail I order the orange chicken and the sweet and sour pork at Panda Express. I shun the rice and opt for a serving of vegetables, in a vain attempt at healthy eating. Of course their food is an insult to Chinese cuisine, and I don’t really want to know what I’m eating. But it satisfies my ineluctable sweet tooth, and I wash the meal down with a 32-oz paper cup of diet Coke and feel mighty awful afterwards.

When I finally made it to Best Buy and selected my computer, I learned that it was not in stock at the store but would be delivered from their warehouse within 7 days.

On that seventh day no large package appeared at my door step so I called the number printed on my Order Fulfillment receipt.

I knew immediately by the echo on the line and the voice of the phone clerk sounding as though she were talking through a tin can that I had reached a call center, probably somewhere in the Far East where clearly spoken English is not a natural event. [Full Story]