The Geoff Lott Rules Live Tour Of Comedy & Talking

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Showing posts with label Customer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Customer. Show all posts

Wednesday, April 28, 2010

Customer Disservice - Coffee Maker


Inez isn’t really into her job anymore. She’s in her 60s, wears a contracted company’s pre-approved, mandatory outfit on a daily basis, and like anybody with a badge around her neck that doesn’t legally back her use of a pepper spray/taser/attack dog/firearm/mustache… well, she’s just killing time until time kills her.

And it shows. For somebody who’s main responsibility is “stand at this register, push the buttons on this screen, and take money from people trying to pay for their spinach & oat-bran omelet,” it’s rare to see her there for an entire quarter hour. There’s a table to wipe in an unbusy café-seating area. Did anybody count Splenda today? What’s the respiration rate of the imported strawberries on the parfait bar, do we have a baseline on decomp? Inez’ll be on that stuff like mud on flaps, slaps on chaps, mustaches on your kicked asses.

God is good. God forbid that I HAVE TO WORK at Inez’s age. I hope to work at that age only out of desire to be out of the house and supplement my royalties from my forthcoming cookbook, “Eating Indoors; Eating Healthy When You’re Shit-Freaked About A Crumbling Society.” Pretty much every time I want to get through a line, I avoid Inez’s line. Sometimes there’s no other way, she’s the only one running reg at that point and there’s no “honor system” for dropping a dollar in a bucket for a cuppa.

Case in pants: This morning I was one of three people in the café selection area, among imported pastries (Safeway, I think), yogurt buffet, and coffee bar. Ah, that’s where I wanted to get to. I went half-caf, half-Bold. One of the carafes was making like a VP and empty inside, so I went to the backup carafe for the Bold, a freshly-brewed silo of hot, dark, capillary-tightening coffee. Gimme. Well, Inez saw me go to the backup carafe as I walked away from topping off my cup. Another person headed for Inez’s register as Inez FOCUSED INTENTLY ON THE EMPTY CARAFE CRISIS OF BUILDING 4, and, passing myself and yet another person (3 now)… walked at a very relaxed pace to the coffee area 20 feet from her register.

Inez strolled into action and took the empty carafe off its foundation, replacing it with the fresh one. Then she grabbed the two full, used coffee filters and the empty carafe and headed off to the back-stage area of the café. She turned her head in time to see three of us waiting at her register for her. Realizing that people were waiting, she did the right thing immediately, by saying “I’ll be right back.” Maybe she thought we were all salaried. HA HAAA! I’m not good enough to draw a salary. Just a gross payment by an external contracting company from which I must pay taxes. So I waited, on the clock, for Inez to be right back.
I watched as she returned with a fresh carafe and two fresh filters for the coffee-making, which was welcomed by the loud exhale of the woman waiting to pay for her three bacon, two egg, one toast breakfast, and another fellow with a hard-boiled egg, cottage cheese, and a donut. And me. With my one dollar of coffee. Now in line for 3 minutes. Another person awaited a breakfast burrito.

Inez’s triumphant refresh of the coffee brewing and serving station and shuffling return to her register earned her a purse-lipped smile, a sigh, and this, from me; “What happened with the coffee?”

Inez: “Oh, it was out.”
Me: “All of it?”
Inez: “No, the one in the middle.”
Me: (playing dumb) “But the other one had coffee in it and there was a back-up carafe ready to go?”
Inez: (sighing) “Uh, yes. I had to get stuff for the other coffee to make it.”
Me: (pause) “That’s lucky. Oh, okay. I didn’t know you had to make more coffee right away. I thought you were just ignoring us. Here ya go.”
Gave her my dollar and left Café Ambivalence and their English-as-first-mumbling employees (Latinos to the kitchen!) to sigh their way into a layoff.

I thought I’d just go to the automated coffee vendor, but it’s so inattentive and cold. And more importantly, there’s nothing to complain about there. I expect crap, and it never falls short. By my calculations, Inez’s coffee move cost the company about $25 in pay to waiting employees. Each carafe holds $30 worth of coffee if they bottom it out. So I waited on Inez to make her facility another $5 until she waited on me.


Jeez, what a waste of resources, huh?


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MC, HOST, CORPORATE, COMEDY, SEATTLE, GEOFF, LOTT, NPO

Tuesday, April 13, 2010

Mock Nerdle Tech

Somewhere in my DNA are a number of genes that are coded to produce moments of comedy. These moments aren’t always in the presence of others. I can’t really choose when it happens, usually. I feel it happen somewhere in my lymphatic system and then the connection completes and zap… comedy. Hoo-ray. It’s like trying to keep magnets apart. You can do it, but nature is making it happen in ways you are in no way emotionally ready to comprehend. And when these moments happen, I am at my most blissful, while somebody around me is usually suffering for it. In other words, if somebody gots theyself a goat, hoo-dawggy, I’m-a wanna git that goat! I did not choose Comedy. I chose football. But Comedy chose Me, and I have fewer shoulder aches from comedy, and almost never have to do windsprints for it.

And this kind of humor doesn’t always go well with the sensitivities, not to mention tight-ass’edness, of what I’ve come to see as “other people.” For example…

1) The FreeRange Tofurky Incident (involving a woman who was covered in cat hair-covered fleece)

2) The “Ice, No, but We Sell The Ingredients” Sale (retort to a woman who resembled a potato)

3) The “Is My Wife In Here?” Bartending Moment (wittiest comeback of my life followed that question)

4) Suggesting “Bring Your Child To Work” Day at Planned Parenthood (FIRED!)

But today was really a fantastic moment in my history of jerky humor.

At the vending machine at my new job, a guy’s purchase had hung-up on the way out of the rack. 6.5oz of $1 TrailMix held-back by the foil corner of the neighboring Oats & Honey granola bar. I suggested he either rock the machine, forearm-shiver the machine, or buy a cheaper item above or next to it, so as to “encourage” the release.


Me: Rock it a little. Like a baby.
Him: You can’t, it’s strapped to the wall.
Me: Bummer. Buy the granola bar, it’ll be cheaper than…
Him: … there we go… aw CRAP.

He bought ANOTHER $1 TrailMix, the one behind the first purchase. So the first one fell, while the one behind it HUNG UP ON THE GRANOLA BAR CORNER… Something about the definition of insanity.

So now he’s $2 in, and I say “Can you nudge it a little?”


Me: Can you nudge it a little?
Him: Why? It’s not gonna fall, it's stuck there Jeez. Well, somebody will get a free one I guess. (sulks away)

He turns the corner to leave and I shake my head, count to 5-IrishWhiskey, then blurt out “Oh awesome! FREE TRAIL MIX!”


He comes back around the corner with eyes wide, just as I start laughing and I say “Just kidding.” He wasn’t amused. I almost peed the inside of my pants with enough pee that it would show to the outside of my pants that very likely I had peed them through from the inside to the outside.


I don’t work or meet with this guy. But if I ever do, not matter what he tells other people about me, he’s the guy who paid $2 for crappy TrailMix, and didn’t have the balls to shoulder a 600-lb machine for what’s rightfully his.


All your TrailMix are ours.


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Take Me Home

My Blog About My Dad

MC, HOST, EVENT, CORPORATE EVENT, COMEDY, GEOFF, LOTT, SEATTLE, LAUNCH

Friday, April 09, 2010

Customer Disservice - DirecTV Again

Like the title says, DirecTV has again proven itself to hold the highest standards of minimal effort in handling customer issues. Please get rid of DirecTV if you have it, or at least don't ever get it at your love bunker.

First it was the issue where a guy with almost an entire month of a court-mandated trade school course in Screwdriver Management put the dish practically in my neighbor's shower. Then, to have it moved, I would have to pay $50 (AMERICAN) because I "approved" the install by not supervising the installer's "work." Then I made the horrific mistake of - from what was implied in my call to their customer "care" office - not leg-sweeping and triangle-choking said installer to show my displeasure. So, hey, that was all my fault I guess.

Tonight we tried to order the Sandra Bullock-led movie for which she won an Oscar, "The Blind Side." DirecTV has a limited catalog of PayPerViews at any given time. TONS of movies that will show you the pink parts of people from bad families, but as for decent films? Yeah. No.

Like other times, I tried to order the movie on-line with a few button-pushes. Nothing. Tried it at another timeslot, and again, SQUAT. Went on-line to order and still got an e-quivalent of being slapped in the face with a turd-covered hand. Still NOTHING. So I had to call to tell 'em I NO LONGER WANT TO WATCH SANDRA BULLOCK PUT ON THE SOUTHERN ACCENT AND EMOTE, AND MY BILL WAS ALREADY CHARGED AND THE CAPITAL LETTERS ARE WHAT MY BRAIN IS FEELING WHEN I HAD TO CALL...

1) The bill was charged before the movie was active.
2) The phone number to talk whomever was gonna want to quit after I called was hard to find.
3) The system "was updating key records and was unavailable until tomorrow morning"

So to get the charges reversed... it was up to ME to call back. They couldn't write anything down, make a log of ways to HELP THE CUSTOMERS AND AGAIN MY BRAIN FEELS HOT.

So I told Megan at DirecTV... "Okay Megan, I'll reschedule my life because your supervisors haven't come up with a way to make a list of work items you can handle when the system comes back on-line as a courtesy to the people paying the bills there. Sound good? Oookaaaay byyy-eeeeeeeCLICK."

I know it's not Megan's fault. But unless Megan gets a verbal fart-slapping every once in a while, she'll never get her ass to mechanic's school and run her own diesel engine-rebuild shop the way she told her high school couns'lors.

DirecTV is NOT the bag of farts. It is the half-bag of Oreos & a half-pound of buttered broccoli-fueled farts themselves.

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Take Me Home

My Blog About My Dad
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MC, HOST, SEATTLE, HOSTING, CORPORATE, EVENTS, NPO, GEOFF, LOTT, PUGET SOUND

Wednesday, March 31, 2010

Customer Disservice - Verizon Edition

Soooo... I got hooked up with Verizon for home phone, innernat, and a TV package through DirecTV which was a whole different bag of lazy. For some reason - likely a major miss on the part of the web-design team at Verizon - they aren't updating their billing system when they receive my money. In effect, their record that I see - "my bill" - shows I'm 2 months behind on payments, while my records and those of my bank show the payments having been processed every month.

WHILE I DON'T EVEN HAVE A FULL TIME JOB, in case any of you are lenders. I make payments, monkey face. We do money right!

SO, I finally track down a number to call in to Verizon with so that I can discuss why THEY are behind on my payments and YES that makes sense, and here's what happens:
  1. The underpaid person I speak with tells me she has to transfer me to somebody who "handles my area," which I assume is Kirkland and NOT my "fundle." (3min)
  2. The next guy I talk to is also likely underpaid, but makes up for it by being nearly unintelligible while speaking. I tell him what's wrong and he says he has to transfer me to a Billing Specialist. Unlike a medical, military, or culinary specialist, Billing Specialists eat lunch at their desks and have a fondness for books with Fabio on the cover. (7min)
  3. The Billing Specialist, in the tone of whose voice I could hear an earring and a number of silk shirts, tells me... everyone now!... he HAS TO TRANSFER ME TO SOMEBODY WHO HANDLES MY AREA. Kirkland must have a special corral of friendly, caucasian-sounding reps on the ready at Verizon.
  4. The Real Billing Specialist tells me that she shows my payments have all gone through, but the website version of my bill doesn't reflect it. She admits a few weird things going on in updates to the billing and website infrastructure (my word, not hers). Then tells me they have my payments, and that I should speak to the Web team, then tries to transfer me. Hey, I'm not paying you AND doing UAT, assholes.
So now... Verizon IS aware of this problem. It's going on 2 months now. And it's not fixed. While reflecting that customers are behind on payments. Some customers may very well be paying and paying, waiting to see the balance get zeroed. BUT IT WON'T, and if Verizon is aware of this and not doing anything about it, HELLO LAWSUIT. It's 2 months and hundreds of thousands of dollars = Gross Negligence.

So there you go. Verizon isn't showing a lot of wherewithall in getting their shit together to make it easy to deal with them. Ideally, the best customer service is never having to contact customer service. So if you can avoid 'em, stay away from Verizon until they get a few dorks off their chairs and on to fixing the billing updates.

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My Blog About My Dad

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

On Getting Older


While I've been rising before 6:30 every morning since last Friday, OOOOH!, I have been getting to sleep later than I ought to. Not tonight, friend. I'll be off to bed by 9:30pm because my son has exactly NO SENSE of time, nor that he should sleep more than 107minutes at a stretch.

And before my carriage takes to slumber 'pon sheets of Voltron so brave, I will have excitedly brushed with a BRAND NEW TOOTH'S BRUSH! I can't tell you how excited I am about it, because I'm not that big of a nerd.

Colgate 360 Deep Clean!



But you can tell, huh? Excitement? Nerd? Tongue Brush? Yes, Yes, and You Bet Your Clean, Gluten-Free Ass.

OF COURSE a review will follow! Stay riveted...


Take Me Home

My Blog About My Dad

Monday, January 18, 2010

Consumer's Report: Huggies, Discover Card

Hil
So, the Baby Guy has been pooping at what seems to be a world-class rate lately. Good, he should be, keep those pipes cleaned out. We bought a huge box of diapers at Costco, switching brands from Pampers to Huggies, as Costco doesn't carry Pampers.

Huggies diapers, at least for our Junior Senator, seems to have an issue with "Back Fire" and "Side Peep." He's had more up-the-back sharts and nap-created side-peepage than ever in Pampers. So we'll make sure we secure them properly and if it doesn't change, I'll make sure Huggies gets a letter. And I'll post that here.

Also, Discover card is adamant about calling a few times a week to make sure I am all protected against ID theft and taking full advantage of their protection features and wants to protect me from not having protection. Good. Because I feel like they're gonna screw me.

Why call somebody at home with a rambling, super-fast-paced spiel about how I need to be sure I'm taking advantage of their tools to track fraudulent use of my account when...
IF I SAY NO, THE KID COULD USE MY ACCOUNT TO ORDER HIS REALDOLL...

but I wouldn't know about it because, AH DARN... I didn't take advantage of their plan?

Thursday, January 07, 2010

Customer Behavior & Some Muppet Trivia

Okay, one more time...
If you're in a grocery store, and you wonder if I am near you, and your nose is stuffed up...

Just walk away from your shopping cart. Leave it in the middle of an aisle for 10 seconds.

If you come back and there's a very expensive item buried in the middle of your stuff, then YES...
I'm near-by.

Twice today I hit a woman's cart at TJ's with an $8 baked brie because she was leaving her cart behind like it was her kid and she was an NBA power forward. Twice because she found the brie on the first drop and looked all over to figure out how it got there. Next time, welllllp... she may be wondering if there's a Brie Faerie at the Totem Lake Trader Joe's.

There is... and it's me.

AAAAAAAAAAnd... some Muppet Trivia!
How did Fozzie Bear learn to drive?

Finally... there are some changes coming to my on-line presence. For my readers, PLEASE keep reading. READ READ READ, we haven't enough reading readers.
For everyone else... you'll get what's coming to you, too.

Choose Funny. Explanation to follow.

Thursday, November 19, 2009

Customer Disservice - DirecTV & Costco

Hey, DirecTV...
When your tech installs a dish outside of my neighbor's balcony, instead of on top of the building where we said it would go...
and I have to make 3 phone calls to get it fixed...
and the 3rd person tells me there's a fee...
for the F'up of one of your employees...

and you tell me that the fee is due to a "cosmetic change" instead of one where there's no signal...

I really think you should know that I'm going to tell everyone about it.
There are other options that don't require drilling into the roof and F'ing with my relationships in the neighborhood.

If you have any problems with DirecTV, you're not alone. They are saying there's a $50 fee to move the dish... in this weather, it's almost worth it. News as news warrants.

==========
Hey, Costco...

A few months ago I wrote about how some of your door-greetin', customer-countin' employees dissed me a bit. Hey, we all have bad days, but that's not how I would expect to be treated at a place that I HAVE TO PAY TO SHOP AT...
and I sent that letter to the Corporate Office...
and the Corporate Office had the local manager call me...
and the local manager had moved, so his replacement called me...
and the local replacement only kinda had an idea of what was going on...
and I recounted the incident with the local manager touching on the points that...
1) Many stores are discounting prices in this economy
2) Many stores don't have greeters to pay to act like they have actual power
3) I can go to many stores where I do NOT have to pay a membership fee and be treated just as poorly

and after recounting these for the local replacement manager, Costco, you'd be happy to know that he went the "EXTRA STEP!" or "Bulk Happy Purchase!"...

and agreed with me on all points.

Fantastic. I am happy to know that you know that we BOTH know you can do a better job.

And I apologize for thinking you'd be able to do any of the following to keep me from telling everyone about what you did...
1) Refund my membership fee and allow me to keep my membership. Perhaps you can't afford it. Not a lot of pallets of Pomegranate Acai Facial Beads moving right now.
2) Throw me a half-gross of diapers. Kid's poopin' his way into a community college.
3) Upgrade me to the Gold Star Corporate Early Entry SuperLube program.
4) My own sample station... nobody but I get to eat from it.

So, just some idears. Think it over next time somebody with nothing better to do may get shut down by your front line.
Costco CANNOT have the Basic members mingling with the reeeeally old people buying more food than they can finish, but will have plenty for the wake.

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Tuesday, July 21, 2009

Customer Disservice Chronicles, No. 8

The Following Letter has been sent to Costco Wholesale Headquarters. News updates as warranted.

July 21, 2009

RE: Customer Service at
Costco Wholesale
13463 Washington Boulevard
Marina del Rey CA 90292


I visited the above-noted Costco store twice in the past week. In our first visit, my wife and I re-upped our membership dues, even though we shop less-frequently at Costco. But throughout the year, yes, the savings do come back to us, so it’s worth it! We’ve always had good experiences with Costco. Which is why today’s interaction with some employees threw me off a bit.


I arrived prior to 10a.m., which I thought was late for Costco to open, but I’m rarely shopping there at that hour so I don’t know the times well. As the doors lifted we were told this was the time only for “Executive Members.” There were perhaps 100 people there. I can’t imagine a large number of shoppers stayed away due to not being “Executive Members,” but instead were at work to earn money to spend at places like Costco. I didn’t check the hours on-line because I wasn’t near a computer, but also because 10a.m. seems like a reasonable hour to shop.


I was there to drop off a prescription for contacts. That’s all. I wasn’t allowed in either side, not the entrance nor the Member Services area near the exit. The only explanations were “Executive Members only!” and when I asked if I could drop the Rx off and pick it up later, the woman shook her head and said “Nope, sorry.” My time was shot, basically. I wasn’t going to wait an hour just to hand somebody a piece of paper. Was the Optical Department open? I will never know. I got a “Nope, sorry” and she turned to talk to somebody else. Should I come back another time? When is good for you? Are you looking for people who appreciate their jobs?


Perhaps I can have an explanation of why a Gold Star member has to wait until 11a.m? I’m hoping that the Executive Members are treated to special events inside, prior to 11a.m. Free coffee and a scone bar, everybody loves free food. Maybe a private concert by adult-contemporary legend Kenny Loggins, or perhaps a relaxing massage as they stroll the aisles in beautiful, Executive Membership Fee Paid-for Silence. No kids. No screaming. Nobody walking away from their cart which they’ve left blocking the middle of a main aisle while pondering the 3lb. bag of almonds (really a good deal, I have to admit) or make small-talk over a sample of a taquito (they have no intention of buying the taquitos).


Is this the utopian shopping experience I am missing?


I don’t really care. I just wanted to hand somebody my contact prescription and get it later, way out of my normal travel route. And what I left with was a “Nope, sorry.” Next time I want to be treated like my presence is pointless, I’ll do it someplace without a membership fee.


So I’m speaking for at least some of the Gold Star riff-raff when I say that I don’t mind paying my fee for the Savings I get from Costco, but perhaps some of the fee should be diverted to a class for “How to talk to Customers without coming off like you can’t be replAced”-types. Nobody’s perfect. But the effort counts.


Sincerely,

Geoff Lott



Sunday, June 21, 2009

Gesturing To The Heavens

Kindness.
To express kindness, truly, is to do so without the intent to do so, and to do so without an idea that you'd ever expect any sort of return gesture of appreciation. To do so that it is done, from the purest of intent, to be Kind.

It's really friggin' hard to be kind sometimes. I try to think of myself as kind, but I think, truly, I'm just courteous. I open doors for people, I try and let people over in traffic if they have a blinker and a commitment to GO. I try and say "excuse me" when walking between people who are talking but standing all over the place on a sidewalk like they own the thing like dickholes.

Doing nice things for other people isn't about what the Do'er gets out of it.
Don't do nice things for others because it makes YOU feel good.
Do nice things for others because it makes THEM feel guilty.

Then they'll buy you things.

And never mistake Kindness for Weakness.
To offer up your service, your help, your home, your money, your food, is to say "I care to give." It's not saying "Oh, no, you should take this from me, I am unworthy and you are more worthy and I'm a worm."
A "Thank You" card is in order.

We could all use some more kindness, that's for sure. And for whatever reason, I have to allow people to be kind to me on THEIR terms, and see the beauty of their intent. But really, if you send me a package through UPS that i HAVE to sign-for...
and you know I'm at work all day...
and I can't sign for it...
then I have to go TO the UPS thing to pick it up...
perhaps a gift card would be in order? Because if I go pick it up, and it's, you know, "cheeky" and I can't really do anything with your gift, you really just sent me an errand.

See how it all goes poorly? Cash. Gift cards. That's what I give.
Because I follow the Golden Rule. Treat others they way they ought to treat you.

Although, a couple years ago my Broham Of Law bought me the DVD set of "Band Of Brothers," and that was a phenomenal gift. THAT's some awesome man presents right there.

Okay, so be nice for the sake of being nice, but try and think ahead of your gift is going to be a pain in the recipient's assmeat. If your gift horse is eating my furniture, you're getting a returned gift horse skeleton, waiting your pick-up at the delivery centre.

Be nice. And be nice when you're being nice. Please.

Take Me Home

My Blog About My Dad

Sunday, January 11, 2009

Rules Of Engorgement

Well SHIT SALAD I gotta drop pounds again, thank you 10 days in Las Vegas and 9 at home! It's coming off, but cripes, I need to stop fretting when I'm back-sweating and get back to what I know works.
Roasted chicken or salmon + vegetables + TurbulenceTraining - PeanutButter by the Handload = leaner Geoffrey.

I think the stress of body dismorphism or "lagging feelings of self-image" causes us more stress, and therefore more physiological damage, than the actual fluctuation of weight. I've had weeks where the scale reads +/- 7 pounds, dropping as much as 3 in one day after a long walk and workout and eating right. Human beans eat about the same volume... VOLUME as in SPACE-FILLING... every day. Good rule to remember. If I'm gonna eat, say, 10 cups of food, and wanna keep the calories low, I need to schnorf down the high-volume foods, like veggies and fruits and oatmeal and things that take a long time to break down. Throw in a little lean protein to keep the shouldermeats lookin' wide, thick in leg and loin, and BOOM, we're good.

Turns out, I need to STOP DRINKING MY CALORIES. Beers, of course, but I do love and won't sacrifice mine Guinness. BUT, I can lay off the sugared energy drinks (300cal in a can?!?!?), sweetened coffees and teas, and for the love of handles, drop my JambaJuice fixation. Their "PeanutButter Moo'd" is clocking 640cal for 24oz (it's okay, 180cal just from FAT). Then again, if I saw a PBM'd personified, walking down the street, it'd probably cause me to stop break-dancing, throw off those clown shoes, and ask "Hey is your father a jewel thief? BECAUSE I WOULD TOTALLY DO IT WITH YOU IF I WEREN'T MARRIED."

That being said, I have a lot to accomplish this year. A lot. Soon. I'll keep you posted on what I'm doing and how it's going, of course, with minor musings on the desire to see
1) Customer Service come screaming into the 21st Century
and
2) Mine enemies driven before me, crushed beneath my comedy.

In the meantime, switch to half-caf, half&half, save 10% of your money (JUST DO THIS), and for the love of Dulce de Leche, stop thinking it's about YOU all the time.

Go with your elves.

Take Me Home

My Blog About My Dad

Thursday, January 08, 2009

Shopping Mauls

This morning I read where Macy's closed 11 stores after a weak retail season. CLEARANCE SALES NEXT WEEK!!! It's a foreclosure sale on INC, Alfani, and Tommy Hilfiger!

Not much foot traffic, and likely, not much via the web, either. Money's tight, if you're tight with money. Or for myriad reasons. I think I used "myriad" properly.

But also, retail sales dipped the past few years for a few reasons that I can point out here. How correct they are, in a "traditional" sense, is of no concern. I'm right, for the wrong reasons, okow? BOKAY!

1) Retail Employees: Most seem to work under the motto "If I have to fold clothes I can't afford, it's gonna suck for you, too." Not my fault, I didn't schedule you to work on your due date. OR, they go the OTHER way, and you can't make a move without being accosted, confronted, and suggested-to about an item. I can't stand either of them. Either I'm putting up with a ton of misdirected attitude of the bad sort, or somebody's climbing my back to introduce me to their, LIKE, FAAAAAAAAAAAYVRAT DENIMS! The training that goes into these folks is what's getting screwed up. I can't get that kind of treatment at home!

This fully excludes places I have visited like T.Petterson, LaRee Boutique, Posh, and Barney's. Hmm, the high-end places make me want to return. Weird. Prob'ly a quincidunce. I can't get that at home!

2) The Environment: Nothing says "let's shop!" like blaring techno, rap, or house music.

3) This is taking too long...

I don't want to drive into a crappy part of town, crowded with cars and dipsh*t, unsupervised teenagers who apparently shoot at each other now, and park, walk all over, and deal with it all.
Food courts. Teenagers being loud. Slow walkers. Gibberish languages.

Which is why I MUST. To NOT go is to deny a very American experience. I need to let that stuff go and accept that this is Part Of Shopping. All I can do is what's RIGHT.

Which is to alert Mall Security that the group of teens over there was shoplifting, and see that they are escorted out. The mall is for shoppers.


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Friday, October 31, 2008

Customary Disservice A-GAIN

Just had the new home phone in LA turned on the other day.
310 area code, via Time-Warner Cable.

As of today, I've had no calls from those who know my number, and 2 calls from telemarketers.

www.DoNotCall.gov

Some may say "Hey, that's taking jobs away from people who need those jobs!"

I say, "Hey, aim higher than trying to sell me a set of knives over the phone."

And "Eat me with your eyes open."

Then end.

Take Me Home

My Blog About My Dad

Wednesday, October 08, 2008

Feels Like I'm Losing It Sometimes

Lately, without a dayjob and getting every other thing in order in life...

such as registering a car in a new state, getting smog-checked, taking a driver's test, handling insurance, handling renter's insurance, calling after jobs, handling investments, etc...

I have to spend a lot of time on the phone. Supposedly that is to make life more convenient. But I have a network or a phone or a connection or a bunch of people on the other end that are seriously malfunctioning. And that lack of ability to communicate with one's mouth and brain in full connection is incredibly widespread, and causing me to understand how our economy could very well be undermined by people who finance their clothing.

When I think of having to call an institution about an account change or anything that will cause me to change anything at all... which means i have to talk to a person!!!!!!!... I cringe. I don't want to hunch up, but I do. It's a gut reaction, as my gut churns while I think of the menu I have to negotiate (these will soon be a thing of the past, BTW, if we really want to stimulate the economy), leading me to a complete stranger. So every call is another communication style to learn and adapt to. And if the person on the other end of the phone is pissed off or underpaid or self-righteous, I'm in for an overly long call. Just read my previous entry on Lingo.com. That company can suck it with their eyes open.

I am who I am, a good guy who is doing the best he can to get in and get moving in his career, meet people, and be the kind of guy I would want to hang out with. There's no horn-tooting there, I have had to TRY very hard to make that happen every friggin' time I leave the house. It gets easier and easier each time because I have a clean slate of interaction where ever I go now. Nobody knows me. So I can joke around and chat it up and be as cordial as I want to be. Maybe I'm the only person in that person's day who didn't tell them they should go back to furrier school. I am who I am. And if you hung out with me for a while and had some beer, I think you, too, would like me. If you replenished the beer, that, too, would be nice of you, but no pressure.

LA is bigger than Seattle. It sprawls. It's got more of everybody, every color, every background. So by sheer numbers of people, there are more people doing dumb things and rude things and dipshit things, and those always stand out. Example... Stopping at a red light doesn't make nearly the impact as running a red light and T-boning a car ALSO running that red and making a left in front of the hitter. It's rampant here. I don't even chance that water. And these people aren't ever going anywhere. If it were that important, they'd have left their shit-tents much earlier.

So today, I'll chalk it up to heat and frustration and get it out of my system. Writing and a good hard workout later. I am going to a church service tonight, also, overdue for us. I knew it was bad a few weeks ago when we attended a church service and all I could think was "this pastor can't preach for shit. This guy's awful. I've heard more passion in a Little League dugout." Then his pushy wife went up and had the full-pew press about getting people to attend, you BETTER attend, DON'T THINK ABOUT NOT ATTENDING, YOU SINNERS, for some Halloween thing she wanted to do. And I sat there and judged them like they were dancing their way across the floor for my amusement. So I need something bigger than Me right now to focus on.

Today I walked by 17 people. I counted them, because I wanted to do an experiment on how people react to strangers on the street. Of the 17, 14 were wearing sunglasses. Of those 17, 2 were on bikes. Of the 17, 4 of them and I traded "Hello"s or "good morning"s. All 4 of them were white. The other 13 were all non-white. No eye contact, no recognition. Just a fact, that's how it went for me this morning. But, hey, I'm not shutting off or down. Next time, however, maybe I shouldn't dress as a cop.

On the bright side, it's nearly 80 degrees already, no clouds in the sky. I got calls to make.

Hello, Xanax?

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Wednesday, September 24, 2008

Bend The Economy Over

Oh snap, CHECK IT.

We're in a recession, and I'm not sure what that means, other than the fact that we don't manufacture anything (other than war, debt, bad TV, and 1-handed MySpace Photos), we have too-low tariffs on some items with other nations who we buy stuff from and that keeps our money flowing OUTward and they're not buying anything of ours, and we, as a nation, seem to need everything NOW NOW NOW NYESTERDAY.
And we want it cheap.
And we want it perfect.
And we want it because we think we need it.

I used to be this way. Emotionally I still get like that, everytime I see a 23 year old driving an Infiniti G37 or a guy with a full head of hair and it's poorly styled. I WANT WANT WANT IT. But won't it feel better when I can pay for it with cash, and not have the debt of it hanging over every conversation with my wife? GEEEEEEESSHSHSHSHAAAAAAAAAASSHSHSHHSAAAAAAAA!

Unemployment's high right now, too. People gotta make money, yo.
But we've outsourced most of the jobs that deal with most of the English-speaking people in this country, jobs going to people who are following a script and frustrating the bejeezus out of us when we just need to change... our... mailing... address... WHY DO YOU NEED MY SOCIAL SECURITY NUMBER????
And those jobs went there because Americans are the most-expensive, most self-entitled, rudest people on a planet full of seriously horrible bands and Dick Cheney supporters.

The right answer is to raise tariffs, buy within America, hire more American workers to field the front-line complaints of other Americans, pay workers well, treat workers well, and generate spending from the bottom-up, NOT with the fetid "TrickleDown" Economics of the Reagan Era.

But the real answer is that a guy kissing my ass in a Bangladesh call center beats listening to an undereducated pro-wrestling fan "Uhh" and "like, like uhh" their way through hanging up on me. Too many people's parents have been too kind to them, and haven't instilled enough of a work ethic in most of these kids. Why work when you can get the same amount of $ a week from welfare? Then complain about how the system ain't helpin'!

I'll take Ramu over Trevor any day, unless Trevor can finish a sentence without saying "like" six times. Then again, perhaps "sir" is Bengali for "like." What do I know? I'm just an abused American who wants his IRA back.



Screw it, I'm financing my plugs.

Sexy is officially BACK.

Monday, September 22, 2008

My Opinion of Lingo VOIP

I have an opinion, and in America, it's okay to share those things.
I will not say anything here that is not true.

For the past month I have tried to cancel my Lingo.com VOIP phone account/number. It was our home phone we used in Kirkland, and we no longer need it. Been almost a month now since we used it.

Prior to cancellation, there were frequent times the router would turn off, though plugged in and should have been working. Technology 1, Lotts 0. Then it would click back on like I had not just caught it napping under the rhodies. During the time, the broadband router it ran through was supplying plenty o' internet use, so that connection was fine.

Trying to cancel my account with Lingo has been a restless dream, though not a total nightmare. First line of defense, per usual these days, is a non-English-as-first-language Customer Service Representative. I've called a number of times, and 50% of the time they cannot hear me (there are swarms of voices behind them) or they are having problems with their "system." Shiva forbid you write something down.

So finally I get through and need to cancel this account, which they wouldn't let me do a MONTH ago because I was supposed to call in and have it cancelled, though I handled everything they needed via email.

Finally, I called in and got through, because we haven't used this thing in over a month during our relocation. Option 5 takes you to somebody to verify your information, after being on-hold for a few minutes, then another few minutes on hold to talk to the Cancellation Department...
WHAT?
You have an option to CANCEL which doesn't take you to THE Cancellation Department?
Hospitals are known for this, also. You come in and they ask you if you'd like to see a doctor. Then send you to a doctor.

SO I cancel this thing, and the girl helping me is not very enthusiastic (understandable) nor educated (unconfirmed). Her attitude was on-par with working a 2nd shift at Taco Bell on her due date, BUT I DIGRESSETH...

And then, to get $ back for the month we didn't use after trying to cancel and their problems keeping me from being able to talk to a robot wearing a human suit...
I GO ON HOLD FOR ANOTHER 6 MINUTES, then get disconnected.

Now, I'm not sure how F'ed up Lingo works for other people.
But let's recount...
  1. In-house technical issues.
  2. Communication issues between customers and the white people that work there.
  3. Cancellation Department located in the 2nd circle of Discouraging Careers, 3 doors on the left from the vending machines.
  4. Attitude, Attitude, Attitude.
  5. The Billing Department is either so busy that they can't handle call volumes (you pay poorly, you get the poorly-abled), or their department is so hated that they can't handle the hate-call volumes.
I, personally, wouldn't ever use Lingo again. You can if you want to, but really, just give me the $20 a month and I'll ass-cram it for you. Go otherwheres.




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Friday, July 25, 2008

*arry's Market's Getting A Phone Call

*arry's Market's getting a phone call today.

I went by there this morning to get a cup of coffee, something I rarely spend money on, but I figured, hey, it's Friday, why not put up with extra weirdness before caffeine hits my veins? What could go wrong?

I head in, and find the tucked-away coffee counter. Realizing that I want something more than just coffee, I head to an aisle for a Balance bar or some-such. *arry's is a traditionally overpriced store, but has indeed dropped prices the past few years after getting their asses handed to them by Whole Foods, QFC, Fred Meyer, and Safeway. QFC is beating them! That's some pricey shopping there.

So I get a little nibblet and head back to the coffee counter.
Nobody is there.
I wait. 30sec. A minute or so. And realize, hey, time is money, and I look around and there's NOBODY wearing an apron and a frown to help me out. NOBODY. I toss the nibblet counter-side and mutter something and bail.

As I get in the car, I hear somebody saying "DO YOU WANT SOMETHING?"
What? In the parking lot? "CAN WE GET YOU SOMETHING?" I'm in the car now, I'm pulling out, and I see a lady from another counter, a *arry's employee, writing something on her hand about 40 feet behind my car. So I roll down my window.
Here's that previously mentioned "weirdness."

I ask "I'm sorry, were you talking to me?"
"Yes, did you want something?"
"I wanted a cup of coffee but there wasn't anybody around."
Through a forced smile that says "I have control issues on sooooo many levels and try to intimidate people", her response is, tersely, "Well she was right there in the café, all we have to do is page her if you still want some coffee!" She looked like she knew something I didn't.
"I'm sorry, I didn't see anybody so I left. Sorry about the excitement."
"OH NOOO," she says, "She was RIGHT THERE" (still grinning) "if you want to come back in."

No. I'm not going back in. I go back in, she gets to put me on lockdown while rifling my pockets for things she thinks I stole. I took nothing, I'm free to leave. But now, I gotta deal with some bootch writing my license plate down.

"That piece of candy I had, I put that on the counter," just stating my own case that I am NOT a criminal, and will not be looked at IN THAT TONE OF VOICE.
"Oh yeah," the hogweed says. "I saw it fall on the floor."

By this point, some young kid at his first job and an immigrant are outside to see what the commotion is about.
There's another problem...
If 3 folks have time to come off the floor... STORE'S GONE TO SH*T.

So I will call *arry's today and let the manager know about my experience.
It's the principle of the thing. I did nothing wrong, other than not know that I had to page somebody to get coffee. And maybe turn the pineapple upside-down cake boxes, you know... upside down.

Also, this is fun, if somebody leaves their shopping cart in a random place in the grocery store for a while, throw some expensive items in it. They get home with $17 worth of saffron, you taught a lesson!


it was MY fault? Impatience, perhaps, but the only crime committed was thinking a floundering

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Monday, May 12, 2008

Customer Holds Serve

I had to call a place today and speak with, shudder, their Customer Service department.
It doesn't say anything about "hospitality," or "quality," just Service. No promise of anything positive.

By the way, dumbass as SRC... you don't have a "Medical Review Board." I know, you called it the "Medicine Review Board." But you don't have that, either.

Knowing that you were way the hell off in left field, I called back, and had to type some stuff at a job that pays for your days off, what what?, I had to use the "voice-activated" menu instead of pressing numbers.

I said "One" for Claims.
"Three" for information on forms.
"Three!" for information on ...
"THREE" for information on the muddyflapping FORMS YOU FART STAIN!
And when The System AGAIN said "Sorry, I did not understand you," I said

"Worthless shit-pile of turds."
"One moment while I connect you to a Customer Service Representative."

So there you go.
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