Wednesday, March 28, 2012

bitch, bitch, bitch (part two) lyn

My handyman is standing outside my building.  I ask him if he can come up and fix something.  It is 10:15am.  He says, “I can’t right now.  I’m watching my car.”  He has to wait until 10:30 until his parking space is legal.  Then he forgets and doesn’t come at all.

My cable box no longer allows me to restart a program.  I call Time Warner cable.  Twenty minutes and a million prompts later I get someone.  “There’s a problem in your area.  We will let you know when it’s fixed.”  A week later and it’s still not working.  I call back.  Again, twenty minutes and a million prompts later. This time I’m told to schedule an appointment.  First one is five days from the call.  And then I have to be around for a four-hour window.  Really!  So I wait.  The guy comes.  He replaces the faulty cable box.  He leaves.  It’s not working within an hour of his departure.  I call back.  Another twenty-minute call and a new appointment for later today.  The new cable guy comes, Pedro.  He’s great.  “Why did the last guy give you an old cable box?  We have newer ones that are better and have twice the capacity.”  No need to wonder why people hate cable.

The indifferent, middle-aged receptionist is on the phone when I arrive for my doctor’s appointment.  She continues talking and hands me a form.  She mimes a scribbly motion indicating I should complete the form.  As I’m filling out the boxes, her phone call continues.  She is clearly talking to a friend.  The other phone rings, and I hear, “Hi, I’m calling from Doctor so-and-so’s office.  I’d like to schedule an appointment for one of our patients.”  “The receptionist says, “Hold please,” and puts the caller on hold.  She then goes back to her friend on line one.  “So,” she begins, “Did I tell you I got my ears pierced in Queens this weekend?  Yup, my kids couldn’t believe it.  Now I have to throw out all my old earrings."  She continues to chit-chat about life, her middle-age adventures, and plans for lunch.  She shows zero concern for the poor person on hold.  Even I’m getting upset for the long wait.  Finally, after ten minutes or so, the receptionist says good-bye to her friend and picks up the other call.  No apologies.  Just, “Yes, hello, you said you needed to schedule an appointment?”  This could be me on the line waiting.  Appalling.

Why do people who speak on their cells in a foreign language seem to talk so much louder than those speaking English?

My last day at Weight Watchers with Steve as leader.  It’s like having your favorite lipstick be discontinued.  I hope I can stay thin while I mourn.

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