Fry's Electronics

I hate Fry's. I'll drive twice as far to get something I need just to avoid going there. Radio Shack is terrible, but they're not even on the same scale. I used to shop there regularly when they were a small neighborhood grocery store chain. Then something horrible happened. They mutated. And grew. Much larger. And descended into the Pits of Hell. The latest incarnation has a deformed steam locomotive blasting its way out of the front of the building into the parking lot.

Last week I didn't have a choice. I needed a microswitch without the little lever on top, or worse, the little lever with the roller. And it was late Saturday.

Years ago, there were lots of places that sold electronic parts, including microswitches. In Sacratomato, there was Zack, MarVell, World and Lafayette Electronics to name a few. There's only a small handful of places with open bins of parts still in business, such as HSC Electronic Supply, but as I said before, it was late Saturday and they would be closed before I got there.

I had no choice. The microswitch on top of the pressure switch for the spa had cracked and I needed a replacement. Now. Or the dogs would have to make room for me in their house. The old switch had gotten brittle and the switch body cracked when I tried to pull the leads off. I have a couple of switches I'd scavenged, but they didn't have the normally open terminals, just the normally closed ones. The other alternative would be to buy the entire pressure switch, but I'm cheap. When I see something I can fix for $2, I can't bring myself to spend $40 on a whole new assembly.

I had my son, Fang, drop me off and I went in. I had a rough idea where the electronic parts were, so I headed off in that direction. I came upon one of the native guides. He wasn't sure, but pointed to the west. I continued on my trek. Passing the flashing Elvis lamps, I spotted a signpost telling me I was on aisle 6, it bore the cryptic notation, cables. I felt I was getting nearer my goal. I continued toward the west wall of the store, when I spotted a whole tribe of native guides. I asked the closest one about the location of their microswitches. He gave me a blank stare, apparently not understanding my words. I asked another. He said he didn't know, this wasn't his tribe department?, and to pray ask? at the altar podium?. By this time, the area around the altar podium? had cleared out, even the High Priest was gone. The guide I had just spoken with approached the altar and not recognizing me, asked if I needed help. I told him I was still searching for microswitches. He said he'd never heard of them and they didn't carry them. I replied that they appear on the website. A troubled look appeared on his face and he said he'd get the High Priest supervisor? Shortly thereafter, another individual indistinguishable from the rest appeared. He asked me what I desired, to which I replied, "I'm looking for microswitches, I saw them on your website". "Ah, website good! Aisle 8. Walk this way". Through the tears of joy at finally nearing my goal, my vision blurred for a moment. For a fraction of a second, I thought I saw a strange misshapen form with bulging eyes, wearing dark shapeless clothing and a baggy hat, and a large mass between his shoulder blades, dragging his foot. Reading his name tag for the first time, I thanked him, "Thank you, Igor." Over his shoulder he muttered, "it's pronounced EYE-gor". My vision cleared as he shuffled down aisle 8 and vanished in the distance. I paused, noting the racks of components. Rows and rows of identical cards bearing transparent cylindrical bubbles with illegibly printed labels attached to the lower third of the bubbles, perfectly concealing the items within the bottom part of the packages. The final puzzle was at hand, or so I thought. I was able to rule out a few of the packages visually as I could see the item inside was clearly not a microswitch. I quickly developed a system whereby I rotated the package on the peg, allowing it to fall into view in the upper 2/3rds of the bubble. Moving quickly, it only took me 137 tries to located the correct part. SUCCESS! I immediately began the trip to the check out, knowing I still had to brave the perils of the final indignity. The journey through the cattle chute was uneventful. I paid cash and declined the bag as I had only purchased the single item. The usual logjam was at the final indignity, about ten carts worth of people waiting in line to exit. I saw my chance and sprinted through while the clerk was poking through a half full shopping cart. Breathing a sigh of relief, I headed toward my car and freedom.