Friday, June 1, 2012

Out of service

Nothing truly remarkable happened the other day. I ventured out into the real world and was disappointed in the service I received at one store in particular. I reflected on my younger days as a customer service representative at a health insurance company (and you thought nothing could be more glamorous than cleaning houses). There were actually standards for how phone calls were handled. It was frowned upon to slam a phone into the receiver AFTER the nuisance on the other end had ended the call. I can't figure out if the quality of service in some instances today is a reflection of lowered expectations, or just a general disinterest in whether anyone adheres to the standards that are set. Regardless, I realized that I didn't want to slide into a funk that could've potentially defined the rest of my day. I wanted to find some sort of way to look humorously at the situation. Here is what I calmly, and quietly came up with...


Dear staff at my local wireless store,

I cannot imagine the meeting of the minds I interrupted by walking into your store. Clearly it must’ve been something rather earth shattering as all the three of you standing in front of me, who were not on the phone, could do was give me your shell-shocked blank stares. I suppose it could have been my drop dead gorgeous appearance, but I doubt it. (However, I sincerely apologize and thank you if that was in fact the issue.) The snappy dressed man in your trio grunted something in my general direction that I assumed meant I should state my purpose, so I did. I commented on the cell phone case that broke within two weeks, just like the one it had replaced. After some quick glances, and mind reading amongst you, it was decided which of you customer service representatives would have the obvious misfortune to actually provide customer service, to a customer. (Your snappy threads and designer eyeglasses do not give you the glory to pretend your position has any fancier of a title than that. I can clean houses in my prom dress, but I am still a housecleaner. I do not suffer from the delusions of grandeur that you do.)

I reiterated the issue to the person who drew the short straw. I did not get all hostile or emotional about my dissatisfaction and the nuisance of it all, as I understand that it is just a cellphone case. However, I find it hard to believe that the seconds of training you must have had to do your job did not include a little ditty about expressing some level of concern over a customer’s misfortune with your company’s product…twice. Unless a blank stare is the new version of “I am sorry to hear that”? I handed over my receipt from the last time we exchanged a case (the guy who helped me that day should actually be the employee of the month, complete with plaque at your place), and soon regretted not finding you some cliff notes to go with it. I had looked over the receipt myself, but clearly not with the keen eye and attention to detail of a true professional. When you were satisfied with the knowledge you had gleaned from that strip of paper, you went to situate yourself at your control station behind the counter. Once safely in place, you asked if I would like to get another of the same case, get the money back, or pick something different out for my daughter. I realize now that the third time is the charm, but I chose to get the money back, after reiterating again that we had the case break twice within two weeks. Damn glad I wasn’t in Vegas, as I’d have bet that you’d have made some sort of vocalization that indicated you had at least comprehended the issue…nada. In fact, you did not even take the case out of the box to see, or ask, what the problem was in the event that anyone was actually tracking recurrent issues with this particular item.

Since there was no conversation taking place at my register, and I was afraid to offer any small talk since this gal looked like she was trying to solve a labyrinth, I listened to the store manager trying to coax a customer along on the phone. He was talking about how he couldn’t honor a $15 deal, but could give the person $50 off…was not authorized to match Walmart prices…obviously something had gone wrong so he could offer such and such, but boy was he going to hear about it over the weekend. I know there are folks out there who really feel that they have received decent service when someone’s job has allegedly been put on the line for them, but I personally don’t want the guilt associated with that. (Oh, and I also think it is a bunch of B.S.)

As I contemplated whether I should reach over to wipe her brow, as she feverishly worked on my reimbursement, her fingers stopped flying. As she began to rip the receipt out of the register, she said “This was credited back to the card it was originally purchased on” (which was not mine…which I am guessing she knew since she did not say “your” card). I looked at her and said “If I had known you were going to credit it back to my step-mother’s credit card, I would have just taken another case.” The response I got was “Yeah, well that is what we are supposed to do when it is a warranty situation, but I went ahead and did the refund.” I said nothing. What else was there to say? Better still, what could I have possibly managed to say in a tone that would not have come across as incredibly hostile?

Was she not the one who offered to give me money back after a thorough examination of the receipt? Was I not standing right there when she must have realized that cash back was not an option? Are you folks docked pay for going over a certain word allotment. There was no point in asking to speak to the manager, as he was standing right there already putting his job on the line, most likely doing something as helpful as what my agent defied the system to do.

This is not the worst crime against humanity that your store has committed, but the fact that the level of dissatisfaction I receive every time I walk into your store rarely changes is pathetic. I am sure my receipt for the credit holds some sort of hidden code that a trained eye can link to whichever of you hard workers I dealt with. This will come in handy when I hand the issue over to my friend who is a marketing manager with your wireless company. The last time I had an issue with your store she got right on the phone with your bosses with just a physical description to go by, as I had no receipt. Thank you, as this will be so much more convenient when trying to pinpoint some things.

Oh, and I hope you were all able to help the one other customer who walked through the door while I was there. She actually was a young pretty lady who still had to shout her problem from the door as the rest of your trio stood there, looking disgusted that their briefing on how to take over the zombie apocalypse had been interrupted...again.

Thanks for nothing,
Andrea

Wednesday, May 30, 2012

52 Weeks of Happiness - Week 12

The flowers on my front porch are making me very happy this week!

Bleeding hearts-actually in the yard, not on the porch.
Columbines! I am so happy I know what these are, after ripping them out before they had buds for a few years at our old house, thinking they were just weeds.
Pansies with their pretty faces make me smile.
Lilies. Oh sweet Lily. This one doesn't look at me like I am crazy like that other one who lives here.
Hens and chicks and other succulents hanging out in the shade with an impatien tucked in the basket as well.

Pretty petunias!

Visit Leigh to find out what's making other folks happy this week!





**Of course I have more random photos of our trip to Canada that also make me happy, even though my son accused me of being a stalker in the water park when I took them, and even though I had to beg both kids to cooperate for some of them. It seemed poor form to then post them all. Plus, I really do love these flowers!**

Tuesday, May 29, 2012

International random

As I sat with my bundle of nerves waiting for our turn at the customs booth, I was filled with anticipation for our first family trip to another country. There were so many sights and signs taunting us from just beyond the border, things we could do if that magical man in the booth would just wave us in...and find us a decent parking spot...and give us a few hundred dollars of extra spending money. This did not prove to be the Canada I remembered, where we Americans could walk around like some high falootin' big spenders with our thirty percent exchange rate. We could bawk at the prices because they were sort of make believe since our currency held the upper hand back then. Those were the days (um, for us).

Nevertheless, we were set for adventure! I thought I had accounted for everyone's amusement when I booked our first night at a hotel with an indoor waterpark, but then my son spotted this gem...
The fireplace held no allure, but a Dutch Indonesian fusion dining experience, while on my ipad, with a wedding going on?! And a value, at that?
Not only does Canada consider their elderly with regard to traffic alerts, but they perform construction on them as well?

A double rainbow? Don't worry, we kept our wits about us when we saw it.

The hubs was a stick and piece of gum shy from making some extra cash, thankfully. His fascination with the old weathered money that hadn't fallen in was slightly concerning

I'm not sure why they didn't want us to perform any stretching exercises, but believe me, I obeyed.

iPad? cool. The look of using it to photograph the Falls? Not so much.
That is my daughter's hair creeping in from the left
We could only assume that there is nothing good on stations with the number 5 in them, as the other numbers were pretty much worn right off.

Oh Kirby, I did get you a green Aero, but it was very warm out...and we were very curious...and well...it was yummy.

Danelle and Stacy, I risked being detained because I could not resist the Cars version of the contraband eggs. I saw no signs posted that they were a forbidden item, plus my collector's item senses were tingling! I believe they are priced much better in Germany though (hence there only being one in this photo).

The science museum in Toronto was fabulous. They were building an incredible amount of structures in the city with several cranes sprinkled around. A good time was had by all...these were just some of the random items!

By the way, the heat and the mist from the Falls? My hair has yet to simmer down (plus the humidity here isn't helping)!

I am sure Stacy is over at her place just loving the weather as well. Go visit and leave her a random "hello"!
Stacy






Friday, May 25, 2012

Oh Canada!

Do things seem different here? Besides the font? Is there an air of mystery, or an international flair? That's because we went AWOL, all the way to Canada. Yep, we made that 2 1/2 drive, and I survived customs with a minimal amount of panic. I felt just as nervous as I did all of those years ago when we actually were bringing beer back into New York, BEFORE we were 21. I can only hope we get back into the states easily. I do not intend to try to smuggle any of those chocolate eggs with the prize inside, so we should be okay. The hubs just ran out for snacks, and will surely land some Coffee Crisp bars. We can stock up on those to bring back home since they are not choking hazards (phew). The son and I have been thinking of all of you, and took a few photos to share when we get back. Wonders of the world, indeed!

Wednesday, May 23, 2012

52 Weeks of Happiness - Week 11

I had a hard time getting myself motivated to make the shells for these little mousse cups...

But I was SO happy when they were done!
 
These helped fulfill the chocolate part of our wine, cheese and chocolate party. Yummy...chocolate mousse, or white chocolate mousse, you pick. 

Here is something else from the party that made me happy...
Happy retirement Mom!




Tuesday, May 22, 2012

Random allergies

I thought this post would be titled Random Sinus Infection, but that is not what the doctor said when I dragged myself there the other day. I sat in the exam room with that same anticipation I used to have when I'd bring my son in for a sore throat. I would hope for a positive strep test so we could get that chalky Amoxicillin flowing, and have him feeling better in twenty-four hours. Granted the antibiotics I've had for sinus infections never seem to take hold that quickly, but at least they offer some hope that relief is on its way. But alas, I presented allergy symptoms, and was sent home to my fake Allegra. Before anyone suggests the netti-pot, let me just give you a little (well, actually it is too much) information, I am fairly certain that the saline solution I squirted up my nose on Friday evening was still draining out yesterday.

In final preparations for my mother's retirement party here over the weekend, I once again stuck to what was important when readying one's house for company. I hauled an old wooden school desk out of my mother's storage room, deciding I had the perfect spot for it...then had to paint it the night before the shin-dig. Mother Nature decided to make it too hot out on Saturday for any of the guests to go outside to enjoy all of the yardwork the husband felt compelled to do, and all of the flowers my mom had potted for the deck. The event was a success though, in that the attendees and guest of honor enjoyed themselves, AND I finally found some wine I could stand to drink. I would dare to say I might have even enjoyed them, at least in the tiny sampling sized portions I tasted.
A Riesling, Moscato and something red and sweet with berry...In other words, none of the ones that it seems real wine drinkers like.

My senior ball photo album was recently resurrected. The flood of faces looking up off the pages was almost too much for me to manage. My twenty-five year class reunion is right around the corner. I am at a loss for what to do with that information. I haven't been to any of the others, and didn't really bother much with excuses, but this time an old friend I reconnected with on facebook actually asked if I was going (well, more like she said I had better be going). Hmmmm...my feelings on that topic are probably another post on their own (or a therapy session). However, here is a little random high school ditty I thought was fun to share...my class ring. 
The name engraved on the inside of my ring is "Andrea Jeanne". I went with my middle name because the ring company called me one afternoon to tell me that my desire to have my first and last name was not possible because it was one letter too long. Seriously...one letter. They asked if I wanted to just leave off the last letter, and since my name was constantly misspelled as it was, this did not appeal. They also suggested just my first initial with my last name, but that wasn't impressing me at the time either.

Oh, on another random note, I feel compelled to clarify a point on my post from yesterday. I have no issues with moms who stay home, I have no issues with moms who work. I have issues with myself, and my reluctance to accept that my mommy role seems to be getting downsized at an alarming rate, or at least the job description is changing. Then I went and threw in everything else...but the kitchen sink!

Hey Stacy! If you are serving your homemade wine at your Random Tuesday Rebellion, I will bring my leftover cheese and chocolate as a hostess gift!
Stacy


Monday, May 21, 2012

Cleaning house

When the kids were younger, it really felt like my title as a stay at home mother was a conversation stopper when I ventured out into some public arenas. I also felt, at the time, that if that was indeed my role, it seemed I should've been better at it. I really liked the fellow child-employed "coworkers" I had met, so I was in grand company. Make no mistake, I was not a housewife, as any visitor to our home could attest. The place was not necessarily as kept up as it should have been and the refrigerator was not typically stocked with foods befitting any adult mealtime guests. My job description was that of a mom, whose office happened to be this house.

For whatever reason, I have found myself very reluctant now to give up that stay at home title...the very same one that once gave me momentary inferiority complexes in certain company. Some of my cohorts were on temporary leaves from careers they loved, while others moved on to follow new aspirations. Maybe I just wanted some mad money, some way to feel more deserving of that $16 clearance purse and a tasty lunch with a friend at Panera...maybe even an occasional shirt that cost over $6 and didn't have an Old Navy tag. (No offense Old Navy, I do love you.) 

The reality is that my day job was being slowly, yet quickly, eliminated. There was no need for a mother to be stationed at this house all day long, while the kids were at school...all day long.  It was even harder to accept that my job description was not nearly as involved even when the kids were home. Instead of full acceptance, I told myself someone should be here in case there was a sudden need for something...homemade chocolate chip cookies-STAT! 

I worked at a preschool for a couple of years, and I think since I was home when the kids were I still considered myself an at home mother. Now I am wondering just how many hours of cleaning houses I have to rack up to relinquish my former title. Right now I am at eight houses. (Well, 8 1/4 if you count the paltry attempt I make to tidy up my own abode.) Perhaps I am struggling with the sheer glamour of saying that I am a cleaning lady. Here are a couple of recent reasons why...
  1. Upon arrival at a house for the second time, the owner told me she was going to show me how to clean her kitchen since she thought the size of it was a little overwhelming, and I had accidentally forgotten to clean the kitchen sink the first time I was there. She said she knew it must've been an accident because the rest of the house looked great. Maybe she thought it would help dilute the embarrassment I was feeling, by watching her twenty minute demonstration of how she cleans her kitchen...complete with a rehashing of the products used that was done at my initial visit. I asked if there had been another problem (that would warrant such punishment), but she said there was not. I am due to go there again this week, and either the third time is the charm, or three strikes and I am calling myself out of there.
  2. If you have a cleaning lady, and there are leftover cupcakes on your kitchen counter, leave a "help yourself" note. The same also applies for a box of Entenmann's chocolate donuts (every single time at one house, I swear). I think half the time the thought of indulging in such yum yums is so overwhelming simply because I know it is forbidden. Give me permission so I can get on with my life, being satisfied by the Luna bar in my purse.
  3. For some reason, getting paid in cash usually feels just fine. However, this made it feel like I had done something far more lascivious, but not in a good way.
I hope that wasn't anybody's lunch money.
Maybe when people ask what I do, I should just be honest and tell them it is all too fascinating and complex to get into at the moment.