random: wait time. cha time. why border Borders?

I swear anyone who works for Borders Bookstore – yes, the once genuine Borders which now spots a red logo rather than green and has red painted walls to match – must have graduated from Grinch School.
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The way the plastic bags that encases the books are bounded by endless amounts of cellophane tape and in non-conventional book or gift wrapping steps is a clear indication and message of: GET LOST. DO NOT BUY ME
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Every time I end up at the Borders in Gardens Mid Valley Mall, I swear I come close to popping a vein in my temple.  And each time I do eventually succeed in beating the cellophane tape puzzle, I feel as if I deserve to shoplift the book. I feel as if I had earned the right. I feel as if the effort that had gone into it and my hourly rate justifies the cost of the book.
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Speaking of books, it’s not as if they have a wide range or unique books to make up for the lack of range. And the only reason the Starbucks tucked at the back of Borders exists is probably because it’s funded by the same organisation. Wait. Grinch.

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He is the Grinch of Malaysia after all, who only made it locally, thanks to a Father Christmas that had given him handsome handouts in terms of monopolised or oligopoly type economic rights that created almost impossibly high barrier of entries to other companies and entrepreneur.
Oh well, it pays to know people in the right places at the right time.
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So, as I sit at an isolated bench, surrounded by what I can visible spot as 3 short circuit cameras in Borders I do wonder if I should ‘reward’ myself.
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Sometimes the urge is there.
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Not so much the action or the outcome itself.
But the need for the adrenalin rush and the self gratification of doing something bad.
Mwhahahahahahah
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We do know after all that these internal short circuit cameras are crap.
Have seem my home robbery twice.
Have seen enough footage from the Bank’s ATM halls …

Just in case you’re wondering why I keep ending up at Borders if I so hate it, well … it’s the Heavenly God’s way I suppose. It’s the only conceivable place to wait for the next appointment … I can’t do eateries and coffee shops. I must shop flushing those vile things through my system.
I had a chat with a Texan Australian about this just a few hours earlier.

It all started with an example by the speaker who said Cha Time sells 1,000,000 cups per day in its owner operated 150 stores across Malaysia.

My reverse engineering need kicked in.

My brain started the math.
That can’t be it… even if we gave them 6 peak hours per day, that’s 22 cups per minute per store … assuming all 150 stores are equal in terms of attracting traffic.

{sorry, ceteris paribus is part of my psyche!}

OK. Fine.
Let me be generous and give them 8 hours of peak traffic per day (which is totally senseless at 80% of operation time), that’s 14 cups per minute.

Still NO WAY!

There’s not a single Cha Time outlet that can produce 14 cups per minute.

They don’t have the resources.

And just stand by the side of one in future and count the turnover in 10 minutes.
Pick peak or non-peak hours …. I don’t care.
I’ve already given them the best possible scenario which is laughable.

OK.
Don’t like that reasoning?


Well, how about this one …
Malaysia – population 27+ million. That’s assuming that every single one of us have a Cha Time at least once a month. That’s utopia.

If you were to take the population around Cha Time’s outlets say, with a generous 50km radius, factor in the distribution of those who would not taste Cha Time their entire lifetime (that’s me for sure and Mr. Texas Australian… and my mom for starters) …
Long story short; cut, slice, dice the data how you like:

NO WAY!

So either the speaker got it wrong.

Or Cha Timeforgot anal people like me exist!

Got to go – date here.
Book rescued from the cellophane cacoon in hand.
Should I? Should I not?
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Let it be said that Borders does not have the magnetic tapes that sets the buzz alarms off  in place either.
Grinch!
I rest my case.

Should I? Should I not?

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