www.yelp.com/noonegivesafuck

Three cheers for the word count!

Fuck Danner boots. Overpriced and half of their models are made in China while they rape your wallet and pretend their products are locally made by some master cobbler in a barn in the country. Didn't you stop to think that it's a little fishy somebody is peddling work boots in the Pearl?

Oh damn this is such a first world rant I wonder if it's a joke.

"I left the store without purchasing the boot care products."

Urine idiot. Not for neglecting to purchase said "boot care products", but because you took the time to comment on it.

And fuck you JRRTrolkien for beating me to the faux artisan cobbler reference. :)

What?

Fuck you loser!!!

Why would you feel entitled to free things just because you're a customer?

That's like me going to my favorite sushi restaurant and saying "Hey, since I come here all the time, plus I just ordered a dragon roll.. I think I'm gonna need an extra spider roll for the price of... ON THE HOUSE????????"

The entitlement you seem to have is peculiar.

It's okay, if there's a flood in Coava this morning, or at Weiden and Kennedy, I'm sure you can just elevate your feet and wait for it to pass. Or pendleton wool is probably pretty good for sopping up a few dabs of water on leather.

Make sure to instagram it, whatever you do.

Anon-you demonstrate clearly shitty customer attitude. Working in retail is not a hard job, except for doing stock or running stairs to get items for customers. However, what is the true soul-crushing and roughest part of the job is you, shitty customer extraordinaire. Wow! You bought TWO pairs of shoes in the last few years and you feel entitled to free merchandise? I bet if a price tag has fallen off an item, you pick it up and ask if it is free before guffawing about your wit. Seriously, buy your boots at Payless on BOGO if the $200 or whatever is making you feel like you need something for free to keep your "loyalty" in check. You are delusional if you think your purchases are keeping whatever company you are talking about afloat.

The author sounds like a Paris Hilton wannabe. I really hope they read the comments here and realize what a vapid and useless life they lead.

I hope their stupid shoes get stolen and given to a homeless person that could use them. Then I hope the author recognizes the shoes on the street and starts a fight with the homeless person and get their ass kicked. Not only by the homeless person but by a group of onlookers that witness the scene.

And when I say ass kicking, I mean beaten within an inch of their miserable superficial greedy meaningless life.

If you worry about taken advantage of when purchasing shoes, the deal to throw in the cleaners,protectors are just not realistic. Doesn't hurt to ask. Alot of people that can afford expensive shoes, choose not to be a vulgarian. Your a trendy person and care toooo much what others think. I think their alot of hipe to be admired. Screw the shoes,their attitudes and live a real life. Poor is ok.

I came back the next morning to return the shoes and the supervisor was there behind the counter, a lock of jet black hair hanging over one eye as he focused intently on polishing the toe of a brown leather boot. He didn't seem to notice me as I approached and looked startled when I set my pair of boots on the counter. “I'd like to return these,” I said, trying to sound really disappointed. “What's wrong with them?” He asked. “Well, they, uh, I.” I was panicking. “It's not the boots, it's, it's just... well, you kind of insulted me yesterday when you treated me like your bro and I don't even know you. I don't just let anyone treat me like their bro, that takes time. Like maybe you take me hiking and we get to the top and I let you listen to my favorite song on my i-pod and I let you put my earbuds in your ears and you give them back a little brown and waxy, but I just wipe them off on my pants and smile at you as you stand next to me and point out a turkey vulture flying over head and I say, “What's a turkey vulture?” Because it sounds like a made up creature and I've only ever seen pigeons in real life. Also, I was hoping maybe it was a bald eagle. And you laugh at me, but not in a mean way, but in a way that says, Oh, you silly adorable bro, I have so much to teach you. And then we head back down because the sun is setting, but we stop a lot on the way back to watch the colors of the sunset and when you see that I'm shivering because I didn't bring any gloves because I've never actually been hiking before (especially not in the cold), you let me wear the thick woolen pair of mittens you have on. I notice a flutter in my stomach as my hands come in contact with the warmth you've left in your mittens. For a moment it's like we are holding hands and I avoid eye contact with you the rest of the way down. We drive back through the gorge just as the last slivers of light are fading in the distance. Your radio is broken so we sing David Bowie songs in acapella. Your voice is so beautiful and now I feel a stirring in my pants. I feel like I'm going to have a shitsplosion from the beef jerky you shared with me earlier (beef jerky doesn't agree with me, but I didn't want you to think I was being rude and it was so sweet of you to share). When we get to your place I race to your bathroom and do nasty dirty things to your toilet. When I've finished unloading my bowels I realize there's no toilet paper. In a panic I check your cupboards, but only find Portland Monthly's and locally sustainable organic lavender bath salts. I pour some of these in the toilet hoping to mask the stench. You knock on the door just as I'm flushing, “Hey bro, is everything okay?” I tell you there's no toilet paper and you come back moments later and pass one to me through the door. “Thanks, bro.” The words roll off my tongue so naturally. “Cheers.” You say and you smile at me just before closing the door. And at that point you and I are bros. And I forgive you for getting earwax on my earbuds since I totally reaked up your bathroom. And when I come visit you at work you cut me a deal and give me a freebie on the boot care product. But instead of calling it boot care you call it 'bro care'. So maybe I'm just old fashioned, but that's the kind of guy I am. The supervisor had been silent this entire time and now he looked up at me, a single tear rolling down his cheek. “I'm so sorry,” he whispers. “I-I had no idea. Please, keep the boots. And the boot care, uh, I mean, bro care is on me. Bro.” Minutes later I was heading out the door and as the bells jingled signaling my exit, I turned back and whispered, thanks bro.

^ Speechless

why does it seem like everyone in Portland expects to be able to get something for nothing?

Boober San we are not worthy. Exemplary.

^Hey thanks!

If you spend $200 on boots and then bitch about the $27 to winterize. them, you need your ass kicked. Post your address so I can come rob your house.