I checked in and checked my suitcase (which I don’t normally do but had to because of my heinous rolling briefcase). My flight (out of a tiny airport) gets cancelled because of the alleged ‘cane on the East coast. I call USAir and immediately start sobbing. The woman I speak with tries her best to understand me between hiccup-sobs. (I was also using references like “L as in lollipop” and “A as in and.”) She can get me on a flight late tomorrow out of another airport- not the one where I am or my bag is. I book it, lock myself in a family restroom covered in orange-ish colored shit to blow my nose/remove mascara streaks and then walk down to the luggage office to inquire about my bag which is presently loaded onto some cart in the bowels of the airport (presumably). The office is closed. Of course it makes sense- bags only get lost during business hours.
I call the hotel I checked out of not more than 12 hours ago to see if they can accommodate me for the night. Sure. We have a room. But at $50 bucks more per night than the last 4 nights. I explain I have a corporate rate through my company and happily provide the reference number. “Sorry, I can’t find it. We need to charge you the higher rate.” Fine. I’ll book it and try to get it adjusted it later. While I’m on hold as she books the room/makes a note in the system about my rate question, I walk to the airport shuttle. The exact moment I’m about to get on the shuttle, homegirl comes back on the phone and tells me no more rooms. I sob again. And tell her this is the worst customer service I’ve ever encountered. (I might have been hysterical and irrational, but don’t say you have a room and then take it back after I give you my credit card and all my info.) She refuses to give me her last name “for privacy reasons” but provides her employee number upon request. (Rude letter to come, SHELBY.) She says she can book me at literally twice my original rate at another hotel. In another city. I finally say yes. No idea why.
Now I’m lying pajama-less (naked) in bed in a first floor “non” smoking room with broken a/c and a large glass of wine that the bar let me take back to my room because they were closing when I got there and they felt sorry for me because my eyes look like cherry tomatoes.
Undies that I washed in the sink with a bar of soap are hanging on my doorknob to dry. What the fuck.
1. Clothing organized by color rather than by style.
2. When I have to listen to/watch my pedicure-neighbor’s dead skin be sanded off with that awful sanding machine.
Bus story of the day.
A dad gives a 2 year old a giant piece of gum.
And then throws the box and wrapper on the ground right in front of the 2 year old.“Look, here’s how you litter.”
It’s casual Friday in Pittsburgh.
I’m a little disappointed in their parents but also a little bit jealous.
Especially when they’re eating jalapeño Cheetos.
I just hate humans too much.
is that at least half of this juror pool reeks of either cigarettes or booze or both.
Chris: Thank you for visiting Comcast. What questions can I answer for you today?
You: Chris- I am unhappy with my service
Chris: Please wait while a secure chat connection is established.
You: I just tried calling the 1-800 number and it was closed.
You: We get awful service- it goes in and out, no matter how many times we call Comcast. Our internet is spotty and slow. And after I just paid $110 for this, I realized it’s not worth it.
You: It’s an outrageous amount of money for a poor quality product.
You: Please let me know if there is any way to reduce my monthly bill. I am considering switching to another provider.
Chris: Just to set the right expectation, I would be happy to help you upgrade or add services online today. To discuss lower priced options, please call our Customer Service Team at 1-800-COMCAST (1-800-266-2278) for more information. They will be able to access your account information and see what options are available to you.
You: This is typical service that I expect from Comcast. I don’t know of any other large company that does not provide 24-hour service options. But, Chris, I will call tomorrow and ask them to help me with my complaint and dissatisfaction.
You: For the amount you charge, I would think you could pay one person to staff the phones at night.
You: Thanks for your help, and I”m sorry to take out my frustrations on you.
Chris: I understand your frustrations.
Chris: Are there any questions that I can answer for you today?
Chris: How are things coming along?
You: awful. have a good night/morning.
Honestly- what is this shit? ”How are things coming along?” What is wrong with everyone? Why does Comcast suck SO much? What an absurd waste of money. I should have asked him what his real name was.
None of my guesses even offered me an autocorrect suggestion.
“burp rat” is the best I got.
It is a smell & time of year I dread.
It’s hard to have a Plan B when you don’t really have a Plan A.
I’m living this life right now. I’m not talking about unexpected unprotected or pills or babies or anything else. Just regular old life plans.
If you could wear jeans and flip flops to work every day. If brown rice and white rice tasted the same. If the amount you put in always correlated to the amount you got out. If getting older didn’t mean people moving away. If flowers and manicures lasted just a little bit longer. If above-you neighbors weren’t allowed to play video games with the bass on. If white t-shirts stayed really really white no matter how many times you wore them?
Chris and I went out to dinner recently at a not un-nice place. I got the specialty (supposedly)* which was a dish called Seafood Melissa. Pan fried fish, crab cakes, crabmeat stuffed shrimp, scallops- you get the point. It was good while eating it, but the rest of the night was filled with gassy trips to the bathroom. For both of us. Including Chris, who had approximately 1 bite of Seafood Melissa.
Since then, we have referred to the grossness that follows over eating or over indulging as some form of Seafood Melissa. e.g.: “Ugh I think they gave me Seafood Melissa by accident” or “I got Seafood Melissa-d.”
All of this is to say….I am in a vulnerable state of Seafood Melissa right now.
*the worst possible thing a waitress could do when you ask her to recommend her favorite dish or the most popular item on the menu is to list 1/2 to 3/4 of the menu. No street cred, homegirl.
It’s probably awful, and I am sorry :/
Is anyone else tearing up about the end of an era?
Pretty sure I wrote that on a birthday card when I was 5.