Hello friends, Yes it's been one year since I've written. It's not because I haven't wanted to write. It's just that after working all day, doing homework with my daughter, doing homework for my on-line class, and making dinner...I'm done. Finished. Exhausted. It doesn't help that we bought a reclining loveseat for the "den" and subscribed to on-line Netflix, so my behind has been glued in said recliner watching old Law and Order reruns. Adam Schiff reruns. Old school.
Here are a few observations from the past year.
1. I cannot believe how lazy people can be. I'm not talking about lying-on-the-couch lazy, since I am a master at that (see above). I am talking about lazy in doing your job or your schoolwork. Some people feel that if they do their job half-assed, that's good enough. They don't care about making an impression, they don't care if they follow the rules, and they don't care if they inconvenience anyone. Part of my job this year entails helping my supervisor in the office, in addition to my classroom duties. Some people cannot do the simplest task with out having their hand held. They don't want to find out how to do anything because then they might be accountable. They do the bare minimum to get by. They also can't follow rules. If we are going to be out of work (with the exception of calling in sick) we are supposed to tell our boss ahead of time; yet people come in and say "Oh I'll be out for 2 weeks starting tomorrow, or I have to leave early today..." We all have to take time off; me included. But these people have been told a million times and they still act as thought they've never heard it before. Seriously...take responsibility for yourself.
2. People are incredibly rude and have no clue how to behave. We have one parent who is late every single day. She is the loudest woman on the planet and has no trouble bursting into the room while I am doing Circle Time. Do you have any idea how hard it is to get a group of 7 two-year olds to sit it a chair, listen to a book, focus, and listen? It's not easy. Right in the middle of my very engaging Circle Time performance, this woman, her useless boyfriend, and her kid come bursting into the room, like a herd of elephants. The woman is yelling at her child to be quiet and go wash her hands, while the boyfriend looks around and the kid cries. I want to chase the whole lot of them out with a bat. I do not even acknowledge the mother's existence, as she proceeds to dump her child into the Circle, which has been ruined by now, because all the children are looking at her instead of me. She then sits her fat ass into a child-size chair until her child is engaged enough for her to run out the door. As Helen Seinfeld said of Stella, "I hate her like poison."
3. While we go about our business here in the U.S. of A, people are suffering; here, there, and everywhere. This is not meant to be a downer, it's a wake-up all to all of us, me included. Some people are the cause of their own suffering, while others are born into circumstances beyond their control and start out life way behind the 8 ball. And then some peope are victims of oppression. I recently encountered a woman from another country. Her husband thinks it's just fine to beat the crap out of her. Well, after about a year or so of being in America, she finally called the police and the SOB is in jail. She told me she can never go back to her country because she brought "dishonor" to her family by calling the police...and if she goes home. she will be killed. Killed. For calling the police on her abusive husband. We take our freedoms for granted. And yes we are a melting pot and should respect other people's cultures...except when "culture" is used as an excuse to abuse and control people, especially women and children. Screw that.
4. The work that people submit to their college professors is deplorable. There is a spell check BUILT IN to the web site where we submit our work, yet people submit their work full of spelling and grammar errors; Not to mention that their writing is horrible, they don't use punctuation, and they are idiots. I really want to write "Please do us a favor and don't become an educator. Go into a profession more suited to your talents, like stuffing jelly into doughnuts."
But, alas, I am not allowed to express my thoughts out loud. So I have returned here, to whine, complain, and grumble. And might I say, I am pretty good at it. Have a lovely evening everyone!
Friday, January 11, 2013
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
"Hello, How Can I Annoy You Today?"
Well, my dear father wrote a Pet Peeves post a few days ago, and these are some of my favorites among his blogs. As he said, we tend to grouse about the same things, so here I go:
The state of customer service in this country is deplorable. As I type, I have my cell phone pinned painfully between my ear and shoulder waiting for whatever moron at the cable company is going to pick up my call. According to their recording they are experiencing a "higher than normal call volume." My ass. That is standard for "we don't give a rat's hiny about you are or your petty question so we have one idiot answering calls and he/she smokes a cigarette after each one." Somehow I can't imagine that there is a huge call volume at 8:oopm on a Wednesday night. Had we just had a storm or power outage I might believe that load of bull, but tonight I don't.
Let me back up. First of all, I hate our cable company. They provide our cable, phone and Internet. Why not change companies, you ask? We live in the middle of a small town that has only one cable provider, something I believe is called a monopoly because we have no other choice. Bastards. The cable box was not working this morning (more accurately, it was dead) and so I exchanged it for a new one today. I got it home, and after several calls with automated advice, hooked it up. Well, I've got a picture, but no sound. All the cable company ever suggests is "restarting the system and checking the connections", all of which I've done. If I have to go back, or worse yet, wait for a service call, someone at the cable company will not be very happy. ---
2 days later: So, as it turns out, we had to program the cable box for us to get sound, something the lady snapping her gum at the service counter might have mentioned. Malcolm, my husband who never sleeps, called the Customer Service Dept at around 2 in the morning and they walked him through it. Well that's one problem solved.
This is just one example of poor service. Another is credit card companies. I'd rather scrub my toilet than have to call any credit card company. This is largely because the people who answer the phone barely speak English and all I can picture is them feeding my card number to the Al-Queda operative sitting next to them.
And then there's retail workers. The people who work in stores are, for the most part, completely uninterested in helping customers. They are far more interested in yapping with their co-workers and texting on their cell phones. When I was a kid, we had a little department store near our house called Garbers. It was a small department store; it was not part of a chain and it was tiny compared to the other department stores, such as Macys or A&S. However, if you needed a nice shirt or a gift for someone you could run to Garbers and have a very pleasant experience. The salespeople were mostly older women, or what I perceived as "older" when I was 10. They were all dressed nicely and smiled and kept their departments neat. My mother liked to shop at Garbers. She would often visit their gift department for a family member's birthday present. I recall that the gift department was right near the candy counter, and I would look longingly at the bins of multi-colored Swedish fish and the small boxes of fruit-shaped marzipan. I love a good candy counter. (Sidenote: My great Aunt Lou worked at the candy counter in A&S and would bring me bags of the Swedish fish and the boxes of marzipan when she visited. For some reason, I thought it was called "marcy-pon".) But I digress...back to Garbers. If my mother picked out a gift for someone, the saleperson would actually wrap the gift with a pretty bow for FREE. It was just part of the service. If you want something wrapped now, you must pay for it, or at some places you can wrap it yourself at the table with the giant roll of generic paper, although the tape is usually missing.
Anyway, I doubt things will ever get better in this area. So, I will continue to do most of my shopping on-line, where I can actually open a little chat window and get a customer support person to help me; I don't have to talk to anyone and they usually fix my problem. That's all I want: some one to fix my problem without my blood pressure rising to dangerous levels. And I really don't think that's too much to ask.
Friday, August 5, 2011
Jimmy Crack Corn, and I Don't Care...
For some reason, my computer has been acting up lately and not allowing me to post blogs. Perhaps it's the universe's way of telling me to shut up, but no such luck.
So far it's been a good summer. We've done a lot of traveling, visiting, relaxing, pampering and just enjoying of life. I certainly cannot complain. Ava is enjoying her time off and so am I, although once school starts, a rude awakening will occur in this house, both physically and mentally.
However, this would not be the Whinery if I could complain about nothing. Here goes:
Complaint #1. I'm just going to say it: I do not like summer weather. I know, most people think I should be publicly lynched for this, but it's true. I hate the heat. I love fall weather and spring weather, and would even take cold over heat. (Note: I said "cold" not snow and ice; I don't mind cold, but I hate snow and ice.) Ava and I do not do well in the heat. Despite sunscreen, we get sunburned. Despite bug repellent, we get bug bites and rashes. Rashes from anything...plants, air, whatever. We seem to be allergic to the summer. I love the carefree lifestyle of summer, and the activities of summer, but I hate the weather, if that makes any sense. I do not see a reason for it ever to be over 75 degrees, unless I am at a beach or pool, in which case it must be at least 90 so I can cool off in the water. Yes, I am choosy and I don't care.
Complaint #2. It's that time of year when classroom assignment letters come out. They used to come in early August, but I think the school administrators got tired of complaining parents, so they send them out later and later every year. Some parents are actually waited for these, as if life itself depended on it. A group of women was complaining, wondering why we don't get our classroom assignments in June with our child's report cards. Finally I could not take it any more and said"It's because they don't want parents calling up and complaining who their child got for a classroom teacher. The later they send them out, the less complaining they have to listen to." That shut them up. I am sick of people worrying over who their child will get for a teacher. I don't believe in asking for a certain teacher, or worse asking not to have a certain teacher for the precious child whose life might be ruined if he or she were to get Mrs. Crabapple for grade 1. In fact, I am so evil that I could almost considering getting an administrator's credential so I could be a principal, solely because I would be filled with glee to assign a child a teacher who their parents requested they not have. I'm not sure how warped that makes me, but again...I don't care.
Complaint #3. Why is that people seem to all flock to the same place at the same time to enjoy summer vacation? How can one relax like this? I mean, obviously places like the beach and Six Flags parks are PACKED with people at this time of year. Now of course you can't go to Six Flags in the dead of winter, but why anyone would pay an enormous amount of money to stand in lane for rides is beyond me. I mean, I know once your kids get older they want to go places like Six Flags and I will likely give in. But take them there voluntarily, without being begged? I don't think so. We tried it last year and it was all the things I just love: HOT, overcrowded, overpriced and overrated. I will never go there until until my child begs with every ounce of her being to do so. Maybe this makes me a poor parent, but I don't really care.
And so there you have it. Not much to complain about, just a few little things. I am grateful that I have nothing major to grouse about. Just give me a few more weeks of heat...and I'll be back to my regular Whining self.
So far it's been a good summer. We've done a lot of traveling, visiting, relaxing, pampering and just enjoying of life. I certainly cannot complain. Ava is enjoying her time off and so am I, although once school starts, a rude awakening will occur in this house, both physically and mentally.
However, this would not be the Whinery if I could complain about nothing. Here goes:
Complaint #1. I'm just going to say it: I do not like summer weather. I know, most people think I should be publicly lynched for this, but it's true. I hate the heat. I love fall weather and spring weather, and would even take cold over heat. (Note: I said "cold" not snow and ice; I don't mind cold, but I hate snow and ice.) Ava and I do not do well in the heat. Despite sunscreen, we get sunburned. Despite bug repellent, we get bug bites and rashes. Rashes from anything...plants, air, whatever. We seem to be allergic to the summer. I love the carefree lifestyle of summer, and the activities of summer, but I hate the weather, if that makes any sense. I do not see a reason for it ever to be over 75 degrees, unless I am at a beach or pool, in which case it must be at least 90 so I can cool off in the water. Yes, I am choosy and I don't care.
Complaint #2. It's that time of year when classroom assignment letters come out. They used to come in early August, but I think the school administrators got tired of complaining parents, so they send them out later and later every year. Some parents are actually waited for these, as if life itself depended on it. A group of women was complaining, wondering why we don't get our classroom assignments in June with our child's report cards. Finally I could not take it any more and said"It's because they don't want parents calling up and complaining who their child got for a classroom teacher. The later they send them out, the less complaining they have to listen to." That shut them up. I am sick of people worrying over who their child will get for a teacher. I don't believe in asking for a certain teacher, or worse asking not to have a certain teacher for the precious child whose life might be ruined if he or she were to get Mrs. Crabapple for grade 1. In fact, I am so evil that I could almost considering getting an administrator's credential so I could be a principal, solely because I would be filled with glee to assign a child a teacher who their parents requested they not have. I'm not sure how warped that makes me, but again...I don't care.
Complaint #3. Why is that people seem to all flock to the same place at the same time to enjoy summer vacation? How can one relax like this? I mean, obviously places like the beach and Six Flags parks are PACKED with people at this time of year. Now of course you can't go to Six Flags in the dead of winter, but why anyone would pay an enormous amount of money to stand in lane for rides is beyond me. I mean, I know once your kids get older they want to go places like Six Flags and I will likely give in. But take them there voluntarily, without being begged? I don't think so. We tried it last year and it was all the things I just love: HOT, overcrowded, overpriced and overrated. I will never go there until until my child begs with every ounce of her being to do so. Maybe this makes me a poor parent, but I don't really care.
And so there you have it. Not much to complain about, just a few little things. I am grateful that I have nothing major to grouse about. Just give me a few more weeks of heat...and I'll be back to my regular Whining self.
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Doubles-About 6 Months Late
Well here it is, the summer of 2011. I am sure you have all missed me terribly, as my last post was February. But last year I had this thing called a job, which interfered with my nap schedule, my blogging, and my ability to get a decent meal on the table. But, the money came in handy, and I enjoyed working again. I am hoping to return to work in the fall, but I am at the mercy of a school system's budget, so we shall see.
Anyway, 2 weeks ago I turned 44. For some reason, 44 sounds A LOT older than 43; this is especially true when one of your close friends is 28. This was one of those "double "birthdays, meaning there are two digits in my age that that are the same.
My first "double" was age 11. I don't really know what I was doing when I was 11. I was about to enter 6th grade. I think I was at that age where I was still a child inside, but was expected to display some form of maturity. I doubt I did. Eleven is one of those ages I just don't remember well.
My next double was 22. It was 1989 and I was working as an assistant to a Vice President of a publishing company in Manhattan. I had just graduated from college and was one of lucky few who had found a job. It was an economic climate much like that of today. Anyway, around that time the movie Working Girl was released. It was about a young woman from Staten Island who...well, worked as an assistant to a VP of a big company. In the movie Sigourney Weaver, the evil VP, gets injured and her assistant, played by Melanie Griffith, ends up running the company and somehow running away with Harrison Ford. Around that time, my VP went out on maternity leave...and while I didn't actually run the company or run away with Harrison Ford...I do admit sitting in her office, which overlooked Madison Square Garden, and dreaming of a more glamorous and wealthier life. I thought about going to business school, as she had done, to get my MBA. One look at the GRE exam, which is required to enter an MBA program, and my hopes were destroyed. I did terribly on it and then ran away to San Francisco.
On my next double, 33, I was married and living in CT. How this happened I'll never know. I moved to San Francisco when I was 24 and LOVED it there. After a series of not-so-good relationships, I finally met my husband Malcolm when we both worked for the same company. We got married in 1999 and decided in 2000 we wanted to be closer to family. In the meantime, I had gone back to school and earned a teaching credential, so now I was an elementary school teacher. We chose CT because it was between my parents on Staten Island and Malcolm's parents in Albany. It was purely accidental that we ended up in the small (population less than 10,000) town of Portland. However, I am happy we did. It's a lovely place. We have a very small house, but lots of land and central air conditioning, which, at the moment, is a blessing.
And now I am 44. The girl in the mirror has aged. She is a little chunkier than she used to be. She has to dye her hair and watch what she eats. I can't believe that my paternal grandfather died 30 years ago. I can't believe that I can say that I recall something that happened 3o years ago. But between 33 and 44 I received the greatest gift of my life, my daughter Ava. While she has many needs, and her medical status requites constant vigilance, I can honestly say she is the best thing that ever happened to me. Although her first years of life were nothing short of exhausting and terrifying, she has managed to overcome a lot and become a precious little 8-year old girl. She loves karate, music, dancing, her family, her home, and just life in general. She has taught me to be a better person. She has taught me that life is not about what you have, but how you appreciate what you have. She has taught me to be thankful, grateful, more patient, more compassionate, and more understanding. She can also challenge me mentally, physically, and emotionally than any other person I have ever known. She is a force to be reckoned with.
On my next double I will be 55. Part of me looks forward to this and part of me dreads it. I think I will follow Ava's example and go with the part that is looking forward to it. Hey that's all I can do! Cheers!
Anyway, 2 weeks ago I turned 44. For some reason, 44 sounds A LOT older than 43; this is especially true when one of your close friends is 28. This was one of those "double "birthdays, meaning there are two digits in my age that that are the same.
My first "double" was age 11. I don't really know what I was doing when I was 11. I was about to enter 6th grade. I think I was at that age where I was still a child inside, but was expected to display some form of maturity. I doubt I did. Eleven is one of those ages I just don't remember well.
My next double was 22. It was 1989 and I was working as an assistant to a Vice President of a publishing company in Manhattan. I had just graduated from college and was one of lucky few who had found a job. It was an economic climate much like that of today. Anyway, around that time the movie Working Girl was released. It was about a young woman from Staten Island who...well, worked as an assistant to a VP of a big company. In the movie Sigourney Weaver, the evil VP, gets injured and her assistant, played by Melanie Griffith, ends up running the company and somehow running away with Harrison Ford. Around that time, my VP went out on maternity leave...and while I didn't actually run the company or run away with Harrison Ford...I do admit sitting in her office, which overlooked Madison Square Garden, and dreaming of a more glamorous and wealthier life. I thought about going to business school, as she had done, to get my MBA. One look at the GRE exam, which is required to enter an MBA program, and my hopes were destroyed. I did terribly on it and then ran away to San Francisco.
On my next double, 33, I was married and living in CT. How this happened I'll never know. I moved to San Francisco when I was 24 and LOVED it there. After a series of not-so-good relationships, I finally met my husband Malcolm when we both worked for the same company. We got married in 1999 and decided in 2000 we wanted to be closer to family. In the meantime, I had gone back to school and earned a teaching credential, so now I was an elementary school teacher. We chose CT because it was between my parents on Staten Island and Malcolm's parents in Albany. It was purely accidental that we ended up in the small (population less than 10,000) town of Portland. However, I am happy we did. It's a lovely place. We have a very small house, but lots of land and central air conditioning, which, at the moment, is a blessing.
And now I am 44. The girl in the mirror has aged. She is a little chunkier than she used to be. She has to dye her hair and watch what she eats. I can't believe that my paternal grandfather died 30 years ago. I can't believe that I can say that I recall something that happened 3o years ago. But between 33 and 44 I received the greatest gift of my life, my daughter Ava. While she has many needs, and her medical status requites constant vigilance, I can honestly say she is the best thing that ever happened to me. Although her first years of life were nothing short of exhausting and terrifying, she has managed to overcome a lot and become a precious little 8-year old girl. She loves karate, music, dancing, her family, her home, and just life in general. She has taught me to be a better person. She has taught me that life is not about what you have, but how you appreciate what you have. She has taught me to be thankful, grateful, more patient, more compassionate, and more understanding. She can also challenge me mentally, physically, and emotionally than any other person I have ever known. She is a force to be reckoned with.
On my next double I will be 55. Part of me looks forward to this and part of me dreads it. I think I will follow Ava's example and go with the part that is looking forward to it. Hey that's all I can do! Cheers!
Thursday, February 10, 2011
I Didn't Realize Christmas Was Moved to February 14
Lately, I need to check back over my old posts to make sure the issue I am about to whine about is not one I've written about already. I tend to complain about the same things all the time, and I don't wish to repeat myself.
So here goes....Is it me or has Valentine's Day gotten completely out of control? I went to the store today to get a few small bags of chocolate for my husband and daughter, along with Valentine cards for Ava to give her classmates. I found five aisles of Valentine's day crap, and I do mean crap. Huge stuffed animals; heart-shaped games, puzzles, and trinkets; and any kind of candy you can imagine with a special Valentine wrapping (meaning it costs more). There were also rows and rows of cards: Happy Valentine's Day to my husband, wife, boyfriend. girlfriend, Mom, Dad, son, daughter, grandparents, aunt, uncle, teacher, garbage man, hairdresser, mail carrier, doctor, lawyer, and accountant. As far as I am concerned you should get a card for your significant other, maybe your child, and that's it. The rest is nonsense.
Each year my daughter's class has a Valentine Party. They make a little mailbox out of a manila folder and decorate it. It's very cute and the kids enjoy getting their little notes from each other. Oh but that's not enough, you see. Disney, Nickelodean, and other manufacturers of children's media have jumped on the bandwagon and designed Valentines -emblazed with pictures of TV and cartoon characters - that kids can give to each other. Each one comes with a pencil or a lollipop, small toy or candy. So do this times 20 and your kid comes home with a whole pile of junk. Add to this the parents who feel to send in a small BAG for each child. Yes, a bag filled with more candy, pencils, erasers, little toys, bubbles, bracelets, you name it. Oh and then there's the party itself where he kids usually get a whole pile of treats and more stuff.
Is all this really necessary? I don't think so. I am not anti-fun; I think the kids should have their party and their treats, and be allowed to exchange cards. But it should be limited to cards, since they get enough treats at the party, and who needs a houseful of more small toys that no one will ever touch? It is all part of something I despise: excess. I hate when people (mostly helicopter parents) feel the need to micromanage and make sure their children's holidays are filled with more than they could ever want. I don't know if they are compensating for something else they lack, or if they felt deprived as children, or what. But I cannot stand that people overdo everything in an effort to create a perfect situation, as if there is such a thing. And what upsets me more is that many children have come to expect all this nonsense, and then moan "That's IT?" when someone gives them one piece of candy or a treat bag that has only 3 items in it. "You want somethin'? I'll give you somethin'..."
In any event, I will buy 2 Valentines cards: one for my husband and one for my daughter. I will buy them a bag of their favorite candy to share and that will be it. Enough is enough already. Maybe one day my daughter will tell her therapist I was a bad mother for not giving her a huge heart-shaped poofy pink bear for Valentine's Day, but I'll be dead by then so who cares? Oh and Happy Valentine's Day.
So here goes....Is it me or has Valentine's Day gotten completely out of control? I went to the store today to get a few small bags of chocolate for my husband and daughter, along with Valentine cards for Ava to give her classmates. I found five aisles of Valentine's day crap, and I do mean crap. Huge stuffed animals; heart-shaped games, puzzles, and trinkets; and any kind of candy you can imagine with a special Valentine wrapping (meaning it costs more). There were also rows and rows of cards: Happy Valentine's Day to my husband, wife, boyfriend. girlfriend, Mom, Dad, son, daughter, grandparents, aunt, uncle, teacher, garbage man, hairdresser, mail carrier, doctor, lawyer, and accountant. As far as I am concerned you should get a card for your significant other, maybe your child, and that's it. The rest is nonsense.
Each year my daughter's class has a Valentine Party. They make a little mailbox out of a manila folder and decorate it. It's very cute and the kids enjoy getting their little notes from each other. Oh but that's not enough, you see. Disney, Nickelodean, and other manufacturers of children's media have jumped on the bandwagon and designed Valentines -emblazed with pictures of TV and cartoon characters - that kids can give to each other. Each one comes with a pencil or a lollipop, small toy or candy. So do this times 20 and your kid comes home with a whole pile of junk. Add to this the parents who feel to send in a small BAG for each child. Yes, a bag filled with more candy, pencils, erasers, little toys, bubbles, bracelets, you name it. Oh and then there's the party itself where he kids usually get a whole pile of treats and more stuff.
Is all this really necessary? I don't think so. I am not anti-fun; I think the kids should have their party and their treats, and be allowed to exchange cards. But it should be limited to cards, since they get enough treats at the party, and who needs a houseful of more small toys that no one will ever touch? It is all part of something I despise: excess. I hate when people (mostly helicopter parents) feel the need to micromanage and make sure their children's holidays are filled with more than they could ever want. I don't know if they are compensating for something else they lack, or if they felt deprived as children, or what. But I cannot stand that people overdo everything in an effort to create a perfect situation, as if there is such a thing. And what upsets me more is that many children have come to expect all this nonsense, and then moan "That's IT?" when someone gives them one piece of candy or a treat bag that has only 3 items in it. "You want somethin'? I'll give you somethin'..."
In any event, I will buy 2 Valentines cards: one for my husband and one for my daughter. I will buy them a bag of their favorite candy to share and that will be it. Enough is enough already. Maybe one day my daughter will tell her therapist I was a bad mother for not giving her a huge heart-shaped poofy pink bear for Valentine's Day, but I'll be dead by then so who cares? Oh and Happy Valentine's Day.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
I's All About Me
Anyone who knows me well knows that I am not the most patient person that ever lived...hell just read this blog and you'll understand that. The Whinery was built upon the fact that I am continuously irritated by the countless number of people I encounter who are self-absorbed, ill-mannered, and believe that the world revolves around them.
Recently I took my daughter to physical therapy at the outpatient office of our local children's hospital. Ava goes to PT once a week, at the same time each week, and so I see the same people there all the time. Most people are typical, but there are always a few who irritate me.
Today there was a woman who I've seen a handful of times. Her son was in the therapy room for his session and she was in the waiting room, ordering dinner from her cell phone. I usually go to the lobby or outside if I have to talk on my phone, but since she was just ordering dinner I figures it would be a short call. Oh how wrong I was.
The conversation went like this:
"Hello? Is this the Glastonbury location? Oh good, I've made a few calls and I finally found you. I'd like to place an order. Um, it will be to go. I'd like the balsamic chicken and the fried chicken. (Pause) Does the fried chicken come with mashed potatoes? It does? Can I have fries instead? OK now does the balsamic chicken come with mashed potatoes? (Pause) Allright that's fine. Can I add a green salad to that order? Dressing? What kind do you have? (Pause) Um, I'll take the house dressing. (Pause) Yes that will be all. Can I get a total on that please? You know, a total of how much it all costs? (Pause) Now I have a gift card. Do I need to give you the number or do I just turn that it when I come? When I come? OK. Can you have that ready at 5:15 for pickup? Wait what time is it now? (Pause) Do you know what time it is now? Allright, better make it 5:30 then. Yes, see you then."
The phone call mercifully ended, until about 40 seconds later I hear her pick up the phone and say, "Hi, I just placed an order to go. Can I make a change to it? (Pause) Um it had the balsamic chicken and the fried chicken? Yeah I need to make a change? You can't find it? Oh maybe it's because I am picking it up at 5:30, it hasn't been placed yet..."
At that point of course I wanted to rip the phone out of her hand, stomp on it with both my feet until it was smashed to bits rip up the menu and scream "GET OUT!" However, I my thought process was interrupted my "favorite"child who comes to PT every week. Every week this child comes tearing into the waiting room at a 1oo miles an hour, his bedraggled mother following behind him. He is one of those kids who is inherently annoying: hyper, mouthy, and his mother thinks he's a real charmer. I do not. His first task, after bouncing in like a kangaroo, was to grab a truck from another smaller child and start running around the waiting room. It took every ounce of my self restraint not to stick my foot out and trip the little shit. He is about 6 or 7 and I have no idea what his "issue" is. The therapist always looks like she'd rather have every hair on her head ripped out by the root than see this kid. Since I am in the waiting room for an hour waiting for Ava I have overheard a few conversation between his mother and he therapist. His mother is now home-schooling him because "the school just doesn't know what to do with him and it's all we can do until we find an appropriate placement for him." I was about to suggest the local zoo, but felt this would not be well received. I shouldn't judge, but this kid just seems like a brat who has parents who enable his behavior. Maybe he really does have a problem, but the cynic in me thinks not.
I wish I was better at ignoring these things. Why should these people irritate me? I guess I just see too much of it. Everybody is always squawking into a cell phone, blasting their business all over the place. People don't discipline their kids and let them literally run all over the place in public places. And they think that their needs are most important, first and foremost. I talk on my cell phone if I need to, but I go outside. I do text my friends but usually to make plans, not about what I ate for lunch. And I try to discipline my child, although I know I'm not perfect at it. I wonder who I will see in the waiting room at PT tomorrow? I better have a drink before I go..
Recently I took my daughter to physical therapy at the outpatient office of our local children's hospital. Ava goes to PT once a week, at the same time each week, and so I see the same people there all the time. Most people are typical, but there are always a few who irritate me.
Today there was a woman who I've seen a handful of times. Her son was in the therapy room for his session and she was in the waiting room, ordering dinner from her cell phone. I usually go to the lobby or outside if I have to talk on my phone, but since she was just ordering dinner I figures it would be a short call. Oh how wrong I was.
The conversation went like this:
"Hello? Is this the Glastonbury location? Oh good, I've made a few calls and I finally found you. I'd like to place an order. Um, it will be to go. I'd like the balsamic chicken and the fried chicken. (Pause) Does the fried chicken come with mashed potatoes? It does? Can I have fries instead? OK now does the balsamic chicken come with mashed potatoes? (Pause) Allright that's fine. Can I add a green salad to that order? Dressing? What kind do you have? (Pause) Um, I'll take the house dressing. (Pause) Yes that will be all. Can I get a total on that please? You know, a total of how much it all costs? (Pause) Now I have a gift card. Do I need to give you the number or do I just turn that it when I come? When I come? OK. Can you have that ready at 5:15 for pickup? Wait what time is it now? (Pause) Do you know what time it is now? Allright, better make it 5:30 then. Yes, see you then."
The phone call mercifully ended, until about 40 seconds later I hear her pick up the phone and say, "Hi, I just placed an order to go. Can I make a change to it? (Pause) Um it had the balsamic chicken and the fried chicken? Yeah I need to make a change? You can't find it? Oh maybe it's because I am picking it up at 5:30, it hasn't been placed yet..."
At that point of course I wanted to rip the phone out of her hand, stomp on it with both my feet until it was smashed to bits rip up the menu and scream "GET OUT!" However, I my thought process was interrupted my "favorite"child who comes to PT every week. Every week this child comes tearing into the waiting room at a 1oo miles an hour, his bedraggled mother following behind him. He is one of those kids who is inherently annoying: hyper, mouthy, and his mother thinks he's a real charmer. I do not. His first task, after bouncing in like a kangaroo, was to grab a truck from another smaller child and start running around the waiting room. It took every ounce of my self restraint not to stick my foot out and trip the little shit. He is about 6 or 7 and I have no idea what his "issue" is. The therapist always looks like she'd rather have every hair on her head ripped out by the root than see this kid. Since I am in the waiting room for an hour waiting for Ava I have overheard a few conversation between his mother and he therapist. His mother is now home-schooling him because "the school just doesn't know what to do with him and it's all we can do until we find an appropriate placement for him." I was about to suggest the local zoo, but felt this would not be well received. I shouldn't judge, but this kid just seems like a brat who has parents who enable his behavior. Maybe he really does have a problem, but the cynic in me thinks not.
I wish I was better at ignoring these things. Why should these people irritate me? I guess I just see too much of it. Everybody is always squawking into a cell phone, blasting their business all over the place. People don't discipline their kids and let them literally run all over the place in public places. And they think that their needs are most important, first and foremost. I talk on my cell phone if I need to, but I go outside. I do text my friends but usually to make plans, not about what I ate for lunch. And I try to discipline my child, although I know I'm not perfect at it. I wonder who I will see in the waiting room at PT tomorrow? I better have a drink before I go..
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
"Customer Service to the Back Please!"
I am getting older. This is a simple fact. But I am reminded of this fact often when I go out into the world to conduct my daily errands. This is because when I return, my ranting sounds much like the rantings of my father (see Braindrops blog).
My daughter wants an iPod from Santa. So, since Ava endures a lot more than any child should ever have to, Santa got her an iPod. I ordered it on-line from Wal-Mart, since they had a sale. You can have the item shipped to your closest store for free, then go pick it up. Easy enough, right?
Yesterday I walked into the "Site to Store" department, which consist of a small counter with a register. It's attached to a warehouse in the back of the store, and also right near the restrooms. When i got to the dept., 3 young people, maybe in their early 20's, were standing in a huddle texting pictures of a recent party they attended to each other. I knew this because they were laughing wildly and saying loudly, "LOOK HOW DRUNK I WAS HERE?" "BOY WE WERE WASTED." Not one of them approached me until I asked if I could have some help. One of the young ladies (and i use the term loosely) said she would be right back with help. Well, she never returned. The texters continued and then an older man, who was also a Wal-mart employee, walked by asked if he could help. He paged someone for me, but I had little hope. Another 5 minutes went by. Finally, I noticed the credit card pad had a place to "click" to page help.
Finally, around the corner comes my a very large young man. His first words to the young people were "REALLY? You are just standing around texting and doing nothing?" They all replied curtly that "they were on break." He started to help me.
Just when I thought he was my Savior, the large young man took a huge sack of food out of his pocket labeled "Teriyaki Steak Bits" and proceeded to shove them in his mouth while he typed my info into the computer. Yuck. He went into the back room and returned with a box. He was about to open it when I pointed out that it wasn't MY box, so he went to the back room again. This time he had the right box and he finished up my transaction. Then he said, "Hey do you have a pen? I need you to sign this slip." Was he kidding? I'm surprised he didn't ask me to buy him a soda to wash down his dried meat bits.
And finally, as I was about to leave, one of the texters says loudly, "Well my break is over so I better go PEE." What a charmer; those 4 years at Miss Porter's did wonders for her.
Honestly, it was the worst customer service ever. I rarely go to Wal-Mart for just this reason, plus the stores are full of white trash, but they do have good prices on electronics. I realize it's not Tiffany's and I shouldn't expect anything extraordinary, but it would be nice for people to at least have a small amount of work ethic. So there. Harumph.
My daughter wants an iPod from Santa. So, since Ava endures a lot more than any child should ever have to, Santa got her an iPod. I ordered it on-line from Wal-Mart, since they had a sale. You can have the item shipped to your closest store for free, then go pick it up. Easy enough, right?
Yesterday I walked into the "Site to Store" department, which consist of a small counter with a register. It's attached to a warehouse in the back of the store, and also right near the restrooms. When i got to the dept., 3 young people, maybe in their early 20's, were standing in a huddle texting pictures of a recent party they attended to each other. I knew this because they were laughing wildly and saying loudly, "LOOK HOW DRUNK I WAS HERE?" "BOY WE WERE WASTED." Not one of them approached me until I asked if I could have some help. One of the young ladies (and i use the term loosely) said she would be right back with help. Well, she never returned. The texters continued and then an older man, who was also a Wal-mart employee, walked by asked if he could help. He paged someone for me, but I had little hope. Another 5 minutes went by. Finally, I noticed the credit card pad had a place to "click" to page help.
Finally, around the corner comes my a very large young man. His first words to the young people were "REALLY? You are just standing around texting and doing nothing?" They all replied curtly that "they were on break." He started to help me.
Just when I thought he was my Savior, the large young man took a huge sack of food out of his pocket labeled "Teriyaki Steak Bits" and proceeded to shove them in his mouth while he typed my info into the computer. Yuck. He went into the back room and returned with a box. He was about to open it when I pointed out that it wasn't MY box, so he went to the back room again. This time he had the right box and he finished up my transaction. Then he said, "Hey do you have a pen? I need you to sign this slip." Was he kidding? I'm surprised he didn't ask me to buy him a soda to wash down his dried meat bits.
And finally, as I was about to leave, one of the texters says loudly, "Well my break is over so I better go PEE." What a charmer; those 4 years at Miss Porter's did wonders for her.
Honestly, it was the worst customer service ever. I rarely go to Wal-Mart for just this reason, plus the stores are full of white trash, but they do have good prices on electronics. I realize it's not Tiffany's and I shouldn't expect anything extraordinary, but it would be nice for people to at least have a small amount of work ethic. So there. Harumph.
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