Thursday, January 26, 2012

Stupid

This dogshit pile of a week has consisted of pure ridiculousness. Yesterday I thought I was going to lose my shit if one more person asked me a stupid question. It seems no one bothers to problem solve and/or think for themselves anymore. My friend sent this my way a la Blunt Card and it pretty much sums it up:

Friday, January 20, 2012

Pimping The Pimp

When I began documenting my daily aggravations, my friend Candice was hugely supportive and eager to share her pet peeves and customer service situations. She is beyond inspirational. I've already - thoroughly - shared with you why customer service is pretty much the absolute last resort given any scenario. Here is an email Candice recently sent the customer service department of her mortgage company:

"I need someone to explain to me IMMEDIATELY why you have chosen to REVERSE my timely mortgage payment. I have called Nationstar THREE TIMES about this issue, and you will most certainly be hearing from me as soon as you open on Monday morning. I sent in my mortgage payment, which you RECEIVED on 1/6. For some reason, you reversed this payment on 1/12, making my account delinquent. I never asked for this payment to be reversed, and it appears to me that you have absolutely no idea what you are doing.

I was formerly a customer of BOA, and my loan was transferred to Nationstar. Two payments needed to go to Nationstar - the one for December, and the one for January. I did not, however, receive my initial bill from Nationstar in a timely manner - I had already sent my payment to BOA. When I called Nationstar about this, I was advised by someone named Ben that there was no guarantee that the payment I sent to BOA would be routed to Nationstar, and I should call my bank to stop payment on the check, which I did. I then called back several days later, spoke to someone named Irene, and made my payment, originally due Dec 1, over the phone. I foolishly assumed that the situation was resolved.

In the beginning of THIS month, I received a notice that my account was assessed a fee because you tried to cash a check for which there were insufficient funds. Lo and behold, the first person I spoke with did not do their job properly and you had no record of my very first conversation, requesting that there was a stop payment on that check.

I called and spoke to yet another person, who I can now only assume was also incompetent because my account is somehow still past due although you received my January payment. This person was supposed to have reversed the fee due to insufficient funds, and that is all.

Please fix this - it is absolutely ridiculous that you are so horrible at servicing loans, and I can only hope that I am able to refinance my mortgage through another company so I no longer have to deal with this level of incompetence.

Regards,
Candice C. "

Basically, Candice handed their asses to them and I teared up a bit out of sheer pride when reading this email. No one should have to take this kind of bullshit, especially when money is involved.

Note: Candice is an avid reader, a wordsmith, a realist, and an overall good friend to me. While both belonging to the same sorority in college, she and I bonded over how stupid we thought the general population was. Today, we enjoy discussing how stupid we *still* think the general population is. Her blog is called The Book Pimp and can be found at http://cmcasto.blogspot.com/ . You can also find her on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/#!/pages/TheBookPimp/166836860089088   

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

Mr. BYU

http://tv.yahoo.com/news/toddlers-cuss-word-modern-family-draws-ire-024407751.html

Woah woah woah. Who the hell is this "anti-profanity crusader" Brigham Young University guy? Oh, wow. Nevermind about the show, I need to interview this guy. Or have dinner with him. Even better, he and I need to grab drinks - strong drinks. Strong drinks that transform my mouth into a volcanic eruption of swear words. I absolutely live for this kind of ridiculous person.

It seems as though while I was plotting my weekend bar crawls back in 2007, he was inventing sweet groups like the No Cussing Club. This cannot be serious. I'm looking him up on Facebook right this second. Score - found him. I'm extremely tempted to friend this guy. Should I friend him? I think I owe myself the entertainment of friending him. If I go through with this, I can't promise I won't message him after an evening of drinking homemade wine. There is something exciting about knowing someone will find me completely offensive.

Let's talk about his theory relating swearing to bullying. That's a pretty heavy weight to place on swearing. I would be more adamant to flip it around and say in cases of bullying, more swearing occurs and when bullying increases, swearing increases. Where is my college sociology professor when I need him? He always seemed kind of drunk and definitely liked to swear - maybe he could swear some sociological sense into Mr. BYU.

Nevermind the fact that the young actress isn't even saying fuck, she's saying fudge; the word is going to be bleeped out for effect. Let me cut to the part where I say something so logical and astounding that you will be on an intelligence high for the next 7 hours. If there is something on the television you don't like, then pick up your remote, and change the *fucking* channel. This "crusader" needs to shift his efforts toward actual societal problems.          

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

Shut The Hell Up

Per Wikipedia: "Shut up" is a direct command with a meaning similar to "be quiet"', but which is commonly perceived as an angrier and more forceful demand to stop making noise or otherwise communicating. The phrase is probably a shortened form of "shut your mouth up", and its use is generally considered impolite.

I don't know how your household runs, but swearing at our place is more common than...well, let's just say it is part of my natural wordage. Sometimes I swear because I'm pissed, or I swear if I'm physically hurt. Other times, I swear as part of humor and more often than not, I simply swear to swear. (Note: I was once made aware that swearing is classless and unncessary - I promptly *fucking* disagreed with that particular person.)

For reasons I'm unaware of at this point in time, the phrase "shut up" has made it's way into our conversations with a vengeance and while said phrase isn't technically considered swearing, it has a nasty undertone and from what Wiki tells me, is generally considered impolite. Some of the derivations I've heard over the years include "zip it up", "put a sock in it", "zip it", "know your role and shut your hole", "hush", "hush up", "watch yo mouth", "you shut your mouth", "shut yo mouf", and most recently, "lock it up". I can blame that last one on our friend PMC for bringing it to our attention.

More importantly, I believe Rigatoni is on to the fact that while "shut up" and all of the glorious derivations are perfectly acceptable in most situations, "ShhhHHH!", is the one that makes my body burn with rageaholic wrath. When I hear this amped-up, crescendo version of "shut up" exit his mouth, I absolutely lose my mind. The first thought in my head is usually, how quickly can I throw all of Rigatoni's shit down the stairwell? Or how long does it take to file for a divorce? Or next time I need toilet paper and we are fresh out, I'm totally using his favorite Penn State sweatshirt. If it's irrational, it goes through my head.

Speaking of irrational, I need Jennifer Hudson to shut the hell up. Right this second, Jenn: I need you to stop singing, and exit my television screen immediately. What's worse than watching you sing for WW cash? Watching you sing TO YOURSELF for WW cash. I would probably be a size 6 too if thousands of dollars were being dangled in front of my hungry face. Please and thank you.

 

Monday, January 9, 2012

The Sociopathic Raccoon

Wildlife is not scarce in Columbus. It is completely common to see deer, squirrels, rabbits, and raccoons on a weekly basis. Columbus, Ohio: equal parts city, country, and suburb.

There was a raccoon living near our place and we would see it from time to time sneaking around the yard or scampering off past the garage. Rigatoni eventually brought it to my attention she was now living and not paying rent near the outside set of stairs leading to our 2nd floor porch. Being the problem-solver I raised him to be, Rigatoni placed a rather large rock to block the space the raccoon was using as an apartment.

I woke up one sunny fall morning about a week later and headed to the kitchen for some aftermath cleanup. I put on some coffee, opened the blinds, and pushed back the curtain on the door that looks out onto the porch. Amongst the bags of recycling, the grill, and the lawn chairs, I saw tiny clawed footprints. Glancing toward the right, I saw more remnants of the claw prints all the way down the entire two flights of stairs leading into the backyard. Upon further inspection of the porch, I saw a massive pile of shit that didn't appear to be anything resembling human fecal matter.

Clearly, we had a passive-aggressive raccoon on our hands. What the hell kind of sociopathic animal walks up two flights of stairs, ignores enticing bags of recycling and a delicious smelling grill, and does a #2 (borderline #3) in the corner of a porch? Since Rigatoni came up with the "spectacular idea" to block the racoon's apartment with a massive rock, I nominated him for back porch cleanup. Good luck with that Rigatoni, let me know how it goes!

An olive branch couldn't hurt the situation - maybe when the weather warms up, I will place some air freshener and some moist wipes out for the little guy.

Friday, January 6, 2012

How To Benefit From A Lie

Just a heads up - this is a long story.

When I originally signed up for my gym membership, I was informed by my HR department that the gym offered a corporate discount to the employees of my company. Score! After double checking this information, I drove to the gym to sign Rigatoni and I up for the discounted rate. An hour later, Sales Rep Round 1 printed out the documents while I inquired as to when he would need my work ID for the discount. Sales Rep Round 1 looked at me like I was bat-shit crazy, said he was unaware of the corporate discount my company offered, and handed me the paperwork to sign. This was where my palms started sweating.

I pressed on for the next few minutes in semi-bitch mode, using my conversation with HR two days prior as proof of said discount. Fifteen minutes later, the paperwork was being signed - without the discount. What can I say? It was a rare, weak moment for me. I needed to join a gym - immediately. Maybe the brand new shiny equipment was to blame.

A handful of months after I initally joined, my co-worker and I were discussing which gyms we belonged to, what we liked about them, and what we didn't like. I began bitching about how HR told me that our company had a corporate discount agreement with my gym, but when I signed with them, Sales Rep Round 1 acted as though he had never heard of such a thing. This was when my co-worker told me that she had been working out at my very same gym under the corporate discount for almost a year. Oh, hell no.

That bastard.

It took 24 hours for me to calm my crazy ass down. I walked into the gym after work and asked to speak with someone from the sales department. After explaining the situation in full-length detail (including the part about how I was utterly offended someone could lie to my face so easily), Sales Rep Round 2 explained that he was sorry this ever happened and offered to cancel my current membership and simultaneously sign me and Rigatoni up for new memberships under the corporate discount. Huh? This may have made sense to anyone else that hadn't WORKED AT A GYM FOR TWO YEARS like I did. I mentioned that in my lengthy experience, there was zero need to cancel our memberships, rather, they needed to be transferred to the new pricing.
Sales Rep Round 2 "promised" to get the new pricing in order before the next billing cycle was applied to my credit card. Since I was already in a big pile of shit without a shovel handy regarding this situation, I figured that requesting a full refund of the overcharges during the nine months prior was the very least they could do for me. Although Sales Rep Round 2 exthusiastically agreed a refund was absolutely in order, he mentioned it would need to go through the Club Manager and then through Corporate before anything could be finalized. From here forth, we will call the Club Manager by her real name: Candy Cane. As was expected, once the billing went through for the next cycle, there was no adjustment on my credit card. Magically, Sales Rep Round 2 was nowhere to be found during the next two weeks, thus my having to now communicate with Candy Cane.          

Candy Cane was a gem: a doe-eyed blondie that appeared to listen well, yet she only reponded with "uh-huhs", head-nods, and excessive blinking. Helpful. My monologue to Candy Cane sounded like this:

"Here is the deal: We have been members of this gym for 9 months. When I signed up, a member of the sales staff lied to me about the corporate discount being 'unavailable' to me for a reason that he clearly made up on the spot. The last sales rep I spoke to *promised* to handle this and still, it was handled properly and I'm started to get pissed. I don't *want* to quit this gym. I want to stay, but I won't be staying if I'm going to continue to be lied to. I have zero problem quitting on principle. I need *you* to process this *today* and call me on my *cell* *phone*, which you have on file, to let me know if you need any other forms of identification, credit card numbers, etc so this can happen immediately."

After all the bullshit the gym had put me though, I decided that my conversation with Candy Cane would not be resolving the issue. I opened up my email to compose the classiest/bitchiest, email of my life addressed to all four corporate head honchos. To the mattresses I went. Exactly thirteen minutes after I pressed send on the email that described my experiences during the last thirty days, I received an email from one of the corporate guys asking me to please call him right away on his personal cell phone to discuss the matter.

Yes, this conversation was happening.

To speak with an intelligent person within customer service is a rare occurence. Head Honcho listened to every word of my monologue - it was an extrememly enjoyable conversation. At the very end, he assured me that the corporate discount would be applied to our account from now on.  He then offered to "do a little math" for me to compute how much I deserved in refunds from the overcharges. Our math matched and came to approximately $190. Head Honcho - being the awesome dude he was - offered to refund the money or to give Rigatoni and I three free months at the gym. I graciously thanked him for the time he spent out of his day righting the wrongs that were caused by other staff members and also for offering us the free three months. Then I explained that because I had been drowning in customer service/intelligence issues for the last month, Rigatoni and I would need six free months to make this negotiation worth while.

Head Honcho replied with, "Sounds good to me".

JD = 1; Gym = 0   

Wednesday, January 4, 2012

Minor Irritations

Attention all low talkers, leg twitchers, and snifflers: this entry is for you. Please read on.

Low Talkers - What's that? I can't hear you. No, really, I still can't hear you. Maybe if you mumble whatever it is you need just one more time, I'll be able to hear. Nope, still can't hear you. No, no, no, you don't need to yell, you just simply need to speak clearly. It's called enunciation. You should try it sometime.

Leg Twitchers - Where did this phenomenon originate? It looks like some sort of derivation of pen-tapping. One day I looked around and it seemed like everyone's body was shifting left then right then left then right just enough for me to notice. Is it an anxious mannerism? Is it a way to burn extra calories? Having a physical disability is completely different from what I'm talking about here. Leg Twitchers have no purpose except to irritate me. SIT STILL!
 
Snifflers - You are the worst. *Sniff* Yeah, I know it's getting chilly outside *Sniff Sniff* and the extreme temperature changes between inside and outside result in runny noses, but it is completely unacceptable. Walk yourself to the nearest restroom *Sniff* and wipe that landslide clean before I take the liberty and hand you 22 tissues myself, like I used to do when I was younger. Believe it or not, I used to be way more obnoxious *Sniff* than I am now. There were multiple times during elementary, middle, and high school when I would get up from my desk in the middle of class, grab the box of classroom tissues, and walk it to the offender's desk *Sniff Sniff* just to put my brain out of its misery.

This has been a public service announcement.