Desert Sand Mica

Whatever, just crash it Bob...


Test Your Longevity. I'm going to live to be 73.

What I found disturbing is the prior use of recreational drugs took 6 years off my life, whereas smoking, only 4. Humph.

Katie, Emma and I went to the grocery store and spent $165 in a record 50 minutes. Yeeha. We were out of everything, believe me. Milk? nada. Mayonnaise? Fresh out. Ketchup? Sorry. See what I mean?

I had two professional confrontations today, and I feel giddily pleased about them. Nice feeling, having "hand.." know what I mean? Oh, I've got hand.

One was for a revolving debt that I have (the only one-gah!) that I have tried FOUR times to set up on auto-pay. Since April I have sent the forms in 6 different times. 3 times I mailed it, and 2 times I faxed it. The sixth time, I sent the authorization form by certified letter. Yet they keep calling me every month for a phone payment, because they do not have record of the auto pay authorization. And every month, I keep acquiescing to their stupidity. Well, today they called me again.

"Ms. O'Shea, your payment is overdue and we need to arrange for a phone-pay."
"No, I'm not doing this again. You have my authorization to take it out of my account every month, and I am done farting around with you."

"Well, Ms. O'Shea if you had sent it in, I would have it, because I am the only one who deals with the auto-pay authorization forms. And since I don't have it, I can only assume you didn't send it in."

"Well, I did send it in and I have proof that I did. So, I don't care, send me to collection, write me off as defaulting. Do what you need to do, cause I will never ever ever EVER make another phone payment to you. The money is in my account just waiting for you to take it out. Have at it."

"Would you like to fax the form to me right now?"
"No, I will not. You have a copy of it, because I have a signed certified receipt saying you do. By the way, who is Duane (last name)?"
"That's me, ma'am."

"Oh well, guess what, Einstein. You're the one who signed for it. I suggest you grab a handy trash can and clean off your desk - get all your little candy wrappers and coke cans, your starbucks lids and post-it notes, and throw them away. Somewhere in there you'll find my authorization. If you ever call me again, I will submit the letter I sent you, and the certified USPS form with your signature on it to a civil court, and cite you for violating the The Fair Debt Collections Practices Act"*.

*(As amended by Public Law 104-208, 110 Stat. 3009 - Sept. 30, 1996).

Well, I was feeling migh-tee good about that.

I'm back at my desk, just as happy as can be when I hear someone in the backyard, and not two minutes later...pc blackout. Internet down. I look outside and note that it's our trusty Comcast Ignoramus.

Mark and I go outside and try to find out what.the.hell. Mark starts in on the guy who explains that he is there to make sure the digital cable has been shut off as ordered. We explain that we did not authorize the internet to be shut off.

"Oooh, no..(giggle) I not do dat. I only shut it off for minutes, to test. (giggle)"
Mark: "Don't you think it would be courteous to let people in the house know that you are taking the internet down?"
"oh yes."
"So why didn't you?"
"I shut it off for a few minutes, to test. (giggle)"

Mark gets frustrated and walks off. I, of nowhere near done.

"Excuse me, what is your name?"
"Well, Julio..First of all, you don't come into my backyard without first knocking on the door to let us know who you are and what you are doing"

At this point, Julio is not talking anymore, he is only smiling and nodding with that unmistakable "I have no idea what you are saying" look.

"And..Julio..what you don't understand is we are working. We are on the computer..woorrkkking, understand? When you come back here and take the internet down without notice, you take the chance of ruining something we may have been working on for some time. Which you just did."

more nodding.

"You are rude, Julio...and very unprofessional. If you ever come to my house again, your visit better start with the front door."

Just a little bit of nodding this time. He slinks back to his truck and confrontation #2 for the day is over.

Since then, I've been in my "take things back without a receipt mood". Do you know that mood? The one where you successfully march into any store with any item and without inquiry are cheerfully given a refund, because your mood says "You are giving me my money back, and questioning me about it just isn't a good idea."

Mark calls it something different. He calls it the "Rip your head off and shit down your neck" mood.

That works too.


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