The year is 2003 and I am visiting family in England. I had walked a mile to a game store that had a deal of two ps2 games for 60 pounds. I was excited to purchase two games for my brother that I knew he would enjoy but wouldn't buy for himself.
As swiftly as I could I took out the 100 pound note my cousin had gifted me and purchased these games, excited to run back to my cousins place so I could message my brother and tell him what I got him.
I run back and send him a message and eagerly wait for his response. He then informs me that the games wouldn't work on our US console. Unfortunately the game store had a no returns or refunds policy. My cousin told me to go there and explain the situation with the hopes that maybe something can be done.
The next day I trudge back anticipating entering a no fly zone in regards to this return. I mention it to the individual behind the counter. Now this fella was no normal fella. He had a mohawk, tats, and more piercings that I could count. He was in a different league of cool than I could ever fathom attaining.
He gives me the no returns or exchanges or refunds talk and then opens the case to the game and scratches the fuck out of the disc, proceeds to do the same with the other disc as well and looks me straight in the eyes and goes, "Ohhh no, looks like these were sold to you damaged… I'll refund you right away."
No wink, no smile, no smirk, no nonsense.
Brother, if you're reading this, you altered my way of thinking that day, you are a true and real bro and I admire and appreciate you beyond what my meager words can convey.