Tuesday, July 31, 2007
But the sun still shines and my car is somehow increasing its gas mileage
Last night, I had the pleasure of dealing with lots of horrible music, due to the fact that I spent an hour on hold with two separate companies. And lest you think I mean an hour all together, let me assure you that I mean an hour with company #1, then an hour with company #2. Company #2 is my cable company, and I'm sure that if they had been around in Dante's day, cable companies would have their very own cesspool in hell. Because I try to maintain an appearance of quasi-ladylike qualities (purely for my mother's sake), I'm not going to do a play by play. Last night, I actually felt the need to drink a little straight vodka before I could deal with them again. After I talked to the first person - we didn't get along so well - I was on hold for 45 minutes before I talked to the second person. The glass of wine that I forced myself to sip much more slowly than normal returned my manners. (In case you want to know why I was almost rude: The last time I talked to their customer service, I was told that when I called again - notice, they KNEW I'd have to call again - I should immediately ask to speak to a floor supervisor. This really ticked off the woman who answered the phone, and she made me go through my whole saga anyway, even though I TOLD her the instructions I'd received. Then she made me listen to their crappy music for 45 minutes. But I ended up getting a good chunk off my cable bill.) On the phone last night, I was assured that I would not have to be home today for the tech to come out. Today, the cable tech came out, but because I wasn't home, he left a note telling me I needed to reschedule. This is the second time IN A ROW that this has happened. I called back this afternoon, and spoke to a guy with a sense of humor. I made him laugh, put on a Southern Belle accent for him (only half fake) , told him he was my favorite phone rep so far (he doesn't have a lot of competition), and assured him that I would totally go out with him if we lived in the same country (well, not really). In return, he supposedly rescheduled a tech to come out tomorrow. And he cancelled the rest of my next cable bill. I almost felt like I should describe the black lacy bra I was wearing to show him that I was sincere in my appreciation, but then realized I'd have to charge him for a conversation like that. And I'm not set up as a small business. Yet. By the time I got home, my throat was swelling up to a level that - gasp! - made it uncomfortable to talk. I think all of the deep breaths and teeth clenching and holding in the rage last night infected my throat. An hour ago, I started getting the paper-thin-skin, now-I'm-chilly-now-I'm-sweating, please-dear-husband-don't-make-me-turn-down-your-love-tonight feeling that indicated a fever. Being a mature, responsible adult, I didn't move for a while. It's the closest thing to a, um, chemical experience I'm gonna have, so I figured I might as well enjoy it. Then I realized that since I clean out the litter box on a regular basis and worry about how many vegetables I eat in a day, I can no longer pretend to enjoy anything close to an illegal chemical experience. So, because I was miserable, I took my temp (it was 100.8, Mom) and then took some meds. As for how my gas mileage has increased - from 25 mpg to hovering just over and under 30 - over the past four months when it's now July in Alabama and the AC runs full blast 100% of the time...maybe that's supposed to make up for the fact that I'm acting like an adult? I guess I'd rather do that then tequila shots. But the tequila shots were fun as hell while they lasted.