The Verizon Kiosk is Full of Douchebags

About a week and a half ago my roommate asked me if I wanted to come with when he went to pick out a new phone. I agreed, and thought I might ask them about prices on a memory card for my phone seeing as how I find myself using it to take pictures often. We arrived at the kiosk in the sMall. Steve was talking to one of the guys about getting a new phone. I asked a differet guy how much a memory card would cost. Immediately I had both of them spewing details of a "music package" (memory card plus USB cable and software) at me. This irritated me beause I'm not one to be cowed into buying something just because two or three sales reps are shouting it's praises in my face. I said I would think about it. They turned away with much bad natured "limited time" "when they're gone they're gone" "cheaper than buying them separate" grumbling.



My roommate finished buying his new phone, chosen on the "it's shiny" merits (not kidding). I then cornered one of the guys and began asking more questions about this alleged deal. I even said I didn't care for all of them talking to me at once because I felt it needed to be said. I then asked price, size of the memory card, what else is included, etc. all the information I needed to make an informed decision as to whether or not I wanted to make this purchase. I decided I did because it included both a 2 gb memory card and a USB cable (so I could load music into my phone [mostly for my own ringtone amusement, I have an ipod and a rca mp3 player, thank you]). And the package was cheaper than the memory card alone. Okay, I said.



The guy fetches out the box with the crap I want to buy in it. The outer box show a picture of an LG chocolate phone and says "LG Chocolate" on it. I do not have this particular phone. So, being a bright egg, I said, "This says 'Chocolate' on it. That is not the phone I have. Will this work for my phone?" I hold up my phone for him to see. "Oh, yeah," he says in a most condescending manner. How dare I question the ways of the Verizon Kiosk Gurus? Now if I were the brightest egg in the bunch I would have opened the box and ascertained the truth of this claim right then and there, but I didn't. It didn't occur to me at the time. I just paid for my crap and we left.



It was several days before I had the chance to pull all the crap out of the box and start messing around with it. As soon as I pulled the USB cable out of the packaging I noticed it was not the right shape. Why? Because it's not compatible with my phone. Holy shit, that little fucker lied right to my face! I thought. I was suddenly infused with a righteous anger. I hate being lied to, I hate even more being lied to blatantly, right to my face, and most of all I hate being lied to in order that I might buy something. I felt the need to smite the hell out of them, rain fire down on their phoney island of kiosktopia, to make scathing phone calls to people's bosses. I was pretty pissed off.

It was several more days before I was able to go to the sMall to make the return. By that time I had calmed down. I began explaining the situation to one of the guys there (the manager in fact, I think). I wanted a memory card, they said they had a package with the card and the USB cable, music software etc., I said will this work for my phone, they said yes, it doesn't work for my phone, I don't want this then. The guy said, "Well, the memory card will work." I told him I realized that, but the rest of it wouldn't, so I didn't want stuff I couldn't use. He tried something about how this was cheaper than even the memory card by itself. I told him that was fine, I was more than willing to go elsewhere at this point for it, even it meant pay more.

In the middle of this, one of the other dudes ambushes our coversation with "But that has the headphones with built in mic." Said in an antagonistic manner. I was shocked and annoyed by this interruption, so much so that I looked right at him and said, "I don't care." It was if I had slapped him in the face. I have discovered the magic words for dealing with sales people. He sputtered and acutally said, "You don't say 'I don't care' to me when I'm trying to tell you... *grumble, grumble*" as he turned back to a more pliant customer.

First of all, don't try to fucking re-sell me something that I've brought back to you because it's the WRONG FUCKING PART. I don't care if it has orgasm inducing ringtones and cures cancer. It will not work with my phone, it does me no good. Second, don't interrupt me or the guy who is already helping me, nobody fucking asked you. I don't know where this ganging up on the customer thing comes from, it happened to me both times I was there. I've never had this problem at other Verizon locations. Third, do not mock me and argue with me! If I heard one of my employees say anything like this to a customer you can rest assured that I would fire the hell out of them. Where the fuck did this guy learn to deal with customers, or better yet, where on the gods's green earth is his common sense?

I decided not to make a scene. I took a breath, and said, "Well, I really don't." Then proceded to ignore his existance. The manager guy was very quiet after that. He told me that they had the music package and the memory card for my particular phone, but that they were sold separately and it would cost about thirty dollars more. I asked if I could get them for the same price, but of course that wasn't an option. I told him to just give me my money back then, which he did promptly and with no fuss.

I was still fuming when I left over that prick bitching at me. I was so ridiculously mad. I seriously considered making a complaint, but I think having had to take plenty of customer complaints at work has kind of put a damper on my appetite for dishing it out. Instead I calmed myself down and put it all in perspective. Just let it go, life moves on. It would be nice to think that dude's boss reamed him out after I left. I thought maybe I should have called that idiot out and engaged in a verbal battle, buy why, what point would that prove? And besides, who needs that stress.

Lighter Note

A story from last week to keep you entertained whilst I answer all your wonderful comments.

Last Thursday I went up to my dad’s house to spend some time. He has recently separated from his live-in girlfriend of 5-ish years, so I felt some daughterly support was called for. Also, I can do laundry for free there (hey, my dad yells at me if I don’t bring any laundry, so it’s not like I’m taking advantage). I also brought my newly acquired ps2 game, Baldur’s Gate 2, in case the book I was reading failed to keep me busy while everyone was at work and school Friday. My (half)brother and I ended up playing the game when he got home from school. He’s ten, so we had a rather enjoyable time beating the hell out of some goblins and orcses. His character has a number of skills, which you can increase every time you gain a level. One of these is called “Cleave” as in “I cleaved him in twain!” We reached a point in the game where we leveled up. The following is the ensuing conversation:

Me: What skills do you want to spend your points on?
Bro: That cleavage one.
Me: Which one?!?
Bro: That one you told me about before, cleavage.
Me: It’s “cleave” not cleavage, that means something else.
Bro: Oh, cleave then.

Ugly Side

I have to admit, I've been avoiding blogging for the past week. I have some things I want to write about, but I'm having trouble. It's hard for me to talk about my feelings. Normally I keep all of my emotions tucked away in a box special for that purpose because, well, they're not anybody's business but my own right? I see those people who's feelings are all sloppy and they are flinging them all over and I want to punch them in the face, a little. I'm not saying I expect everyone to be zombies or robots. I understand we all deal in different ways. Mine is just to deal with my shit in the privacy of my own head. The problem, as should become obvious, is that if you keep putting things in the box and not sorting it one day you'll knock it off the shelf (because I can be a klutz). Then it's like you have a big pile of tangled electrical cords and necklaces that all need to be straightened out.

Well, you get the idea of the metaphor. Why so emotionally independent? A number of reasons, but I've always been the calm one, the rational one. Do you ever find it easier to be brave when others are scared because they're scared? Not that you were even scared to begin with, but it gives your bravery an urgency because now you have to be strong for them as well as yourself. (Or patient when others are angry or calm when others are panicked?) Or is that just me? I never had anyone to be the strong one for me. My dad would have been the one if my mother hadn't made it as difficult as possible for him to see us after the divorce. By the time I was able to start spending more time with him I was past the point where I could be open with people. A person can't help you if they don't know there is a problem after all.

Hitting publish is going to be the hardest thing. It's so hard for me to say things, even if they're not surprising for other people to hear. Once it's out there, there is no taking it back. There's that part of me that will hate myself every time I read this and call me weak. That part of me is the most critical judge of myself. I'm harder on myself than anyone else ever would be. Or at least I pray to any merciful gods that I am. Because we all know they can't hurt you if you've already told yourself the same thing, right? And that voice in my head, well, she's the cruelest person I've ever met. I don't let any of her words touch anyone else, so you know who she talks about the most then. Even so, I've reached the point in my life where I'm happy enough I don't hear too much from that bitch anymore. But when she does show up, it sucks. It was after such a moment the other night when it occurred to me that I might actually be too hard on myself. (Let your guard up and they'll cut you down for it, the voice says to that.) I seriously thought about it though. I might actually be too hard on myself. So I'm going to post this because listening to that voice doesn't make me happy, and I know, deep down, that admitting your weaknesses is what makes you truly strong. I can take whatever is thrown at me, she's made sure of that, even if she doesn't think it first for me anymore.

So where does that leave us? The issues of being overweight and being single, I suppose. Do I have a realistic idea of how others perceive me? Probably not. I'm trying to lose weight because I want to be healthier. I think in the past I've mentally roadblocked myself on this one because being overweight is a "good reason" for why you're single. I'm partially scared of losing the fat because there's a line of thinking that says if I'm skinnier and still single than I'm either ugly and/or uninteresting. Neither of which I honestly believe, but that would leave us then with the "there's something wrong with me" thought, but who knows. Maybe I'm delusional. Fat makes you think crazy things* after all. It's maddening though, you'd think there would be more people willing to overlook a mild excess of subcutaneous fat in their search for a partner**.

Well, I actually feel better now. Hope you enjoyed your ride on the feelings coaster. Please keep hands and arms inside the car until the train has come to a complete stop. Enjoy the rest of your day here in Blogville.

~Winter



*Sealab 2021 anyone?

**Let's never mind the offer of a date I received last week. It was delivered by proxy and from a lad who's never actually met me, but has seen my myspace*** page. I haven't made a decision yet.

***Complete with obligatory picture of self taken in bathroom mirror.

Rundown

::::The lease on my apartment is up in August, and my roommate and I have, for various reasons, decided not to renew it. We will most likely continue to be roommates, only at a different venue. My hope is that we will find something by the end of the month. The theme of the things I'm keeping in mind while looking is Less. Less stairs, less crazy landlord, less bro-y. Although, I have to say that there has been a definite lack of bro activity (brotivities, if you will) over the holidays.

::::The weather is being particularly strange lately. Last week it was cold. It was five degrees when I came home from work one night. Yesterday it was 70. I was forced to dig out my thongs and shorts to go to the store after work. In fucking January. Now, today it has been pouring buckets. This is really screwing with my head!

::::For New Years a couple of friends and I made plans to go out to the bars. Much to my surprise my normally t-shirt and jeans wearing friends told me they were dressing up. After trying a couple outfits I settled on a black dress and heels. When I called them to meet up they were already drinking and expressed disdain at walking to the bars and back since it was cold and raining. We decided to just have a night in, but seeing as how I was already dressed and done I thought "fuck it, I'm not going to change now." I rarely get opportunities to dress up and this was the first time I had worn the dress in question, so what if we were just going to sit around their living room all night.

Our decision to not walk proved well founded. It was just getting cold enough for the ground to start becoming slick when I left my place to head over. A fact that I discovered by slipping and falling right outside my building. My roommate came rushing over to help me up, but the damage was already done. I was damp and muddy and my pride was severely bruised. However, I did not break any of the liquor bottles I was carrying.

At my friend's apartment they complimented my dress and exclaimed over my shoes. I think K. may have been drooling over them. I made our group's drink, pineapple upside-down cake shots. The rest of the evening was a pleasant string of drinking, picture taking, dancing, and my theory that Dick Clarke is either a vampire or a robot.

::::I still haven't taken down my christmas decorations. For shame, I know! It's on my list. I like making lists. They help me organize my thoughts, and I tend to forget little things. Sometimes my lists take on delusions of task accomplishment grandeur.

::::I'm trying to break my soda habit. I have been able to stop drinking diet soda. It's my understanding that diet pop is actually not very conducive to weight loss. Now I'm slowing breaking myself off of all pop. It's hard though. Where else am I going to get my bit of caffeine in the morning since I don't drink coffee? And while pop doesn't have the addictive properties of, say, nicotine or crack, it's so crisp and refreshing, and you have to drink something. Every time I walk by the pop machine at work it calls to me. It beckons and mocks me with its cold tasty goodness. Excuse me, I have to go fill my water bottles for tomorrow. *sigh*

::::I was feeling good about myself. Maybe it was the new years compliments, or the pop banishing. I don't know, I'm leo so sometimes I just like me. At any rate, out of some self confidence inspired stupidity a few days ago I thought I should weigh myself. Big mistake. I had to stand there for a minute and just stare at the damn number. I had gained ten pounds since the last time I weighed myself (which I have just realized may have been as much as three months ago...). I was pissed. So pissed that I'm actually on a diet plan, something I've never tried before. Oh, I've tried losing weight before with exercise and half-assed attempts at eating healthy. This time I have a plan. If there's one, no, three things I like it's having a plan, a decisive direction, and taking action. I have to figure out if I can work going to the gym into my work schedule and if my membership has expired yet in order to fulfill the second part of my genius plan.

So we'll see how that works out.