Live From World Foot Locker: My Pops Vs. Laser

In the first post on this blog, I mention that my Dad was a Manager Trainer for Foot Locker when I was a kid. My love for kicks was born on the many days I spent going to work with my Dad, running around Foot Locker stock rooms, climbing the ladders, and looking at kicks. Shit was so much fun to me.

The best part of having your Dad work for Foot Locker is obviously the sneaker-related perks, but one of my other favorites were the wild stories. Stories about theft, crazy purchases, and Jordan lines were all common but my favorite recurring stories were always about when celebrities would show up at the store. My Dad was always assigned to the high volume stores in the L.A. area, so it was pretty common to see celebs come in, but this story tops them all.

It was some time in the early to mid 90s, and my Dad was working at the World Foot Locker in Thousand Oaks California. For those of you who don't know about World Footlocker, this was the specialty Foot Locker before there was House of Hoops.

As you can see, these stores were massive. It was real cool to me when he was working this store. They had big screen TVs and the Thousand Oaks mall was real dope at that time, so this was my favorite Foot Locker that Pops worked at.

Well one day at the store, Laser from American Gladiators came in. If you don't know about American Gladiators or Laser, here is a pic and video:

Well anyway, Laser came in wanting to return a pair of shoes (I wish either me or my Dad could remember what shoe it was. They were definitely Nikes). No big deal, except the shoes had been worn and he didn't even have a receipt. I guess he rocked them all day even though they didn't fit him right. He tried to play the whole "don't you know who I am?" angle with the employee and then got rude with her when she wouldn't let him return the kicks. Laser then asked to speak to the manager, so the cashier called my Dad over:

Dad: "What seems to be the problem?" 

Laser: "I want to return these shoes. I don't see why that's a problem." 

Dad: "Well I could maybe help you out if you had the receipt, but you're trying to return shoes that you wore without a receipt. There's nothing we can do for you." 

Laser: "Do you know who I am?" 

Dad: "It doesn't matter who you are if you don't have a receipt." 

Laser: "Well these shoes are defective..." 

Dad: (inspects the shoes, sees nothing wrong) "These aren't defective, sir."

Laser: (grabs shoe, flips out, and RIPS OFF THE FUCKING TONGUE!)

"NOOOOW THEEY AAAAREEE!"

At this point, Laser was in a full on 'roid rage and causing a scene in the store. He looked like he was ready to smash a glass display when my Dad told him he had to leave or he would have mall security kick his ass out. Laser came to his senses, like when Bruce Banner's inner self can get the Hulk to chill the fuck out and not smash shit.

I remember my Dad telling me this story over the phone right after it happened. He was so pissed. I was, and still am, hyped about my Dad stepping to an American Gladiator and not getting mollywhopped. I also was excited because I HATED Laser even before that happened. He seemed like a royal asshole to me, and I was right. My favorite Gladiator was Nitro, so I was like "fuck Laser". 

Laser, if you're reading this...Fuck you. You ain't shit, you buff for no damn reason, try to intimidate female retail employee-ass, shoe tearing, 'roid raging, broke, lying ass punk. 

#TeamNitro.