Whut we've got heah, is failure to communicate

So yesterday, I went back to The Zhay to return the Kangaroo Not-a-Keeper.  My return went quickly and painlessly.  


But for the lady in line ahead of me, not so much.  I was privileged to be able to listen to the entire exchange.

Customer:  I'd like a refund for this.


Employee at the Return Desk:  Is something wrong with it?

Customer:  Yes.  When I opened the box, I discovered the item was used.  I'd like a refund please.

Employee: I'm sorry, I can't give you a refund.  I can only issue you a store credit.

Customer:  Why can't I get a refund?


Employee:  Because we don't give refunds for used merchandise.  I can only give you store credit.

Customer:  But that's WHY I'm returning it and why I want my money back!  It was USED!  You sold me USED Merchandise!  I want my money back!


Employee:  But we don't give refunds on used merchandise.  I can give you store credit.

Customer:  *Sigh*  Let's try this again. I purchased what was allegedly a NEW item.  When I opened the box, I saw that the item inside was not new, it was used.  You sold me used merchandise.  I want my money back.


Employee:  I can't give you your money back.  It's a used item.  We don't give refunds on used items.  I can only give you store credit.

Customer: You're not hearing me.  I was sold a used item.  Someone obviously returned this item after using it and your store repackaged it and put it back on the shelf to be sold as new.  Which it isn't.  I want my money back.

Employee: We don't issue refunds on used items.  I can only give you store credit.  Or (said in a helpful voice) we can just do an exchange.


Customer:  I don't want to exchange it.  I don't want store credit.  I just want my money back.


Employee:  I can't do that.


Customer:  [Bangs head on counter] I would like to speak to a manager.


Employee:  [Sighs.  Rolls eyes]  Fine.


At this point, even though my transaction had already been completed, I wasn't going ANYWHERE.


Manager:  What seems to be the problem?


Employee:  She wants a refund for a used item and I told her we don't issue refunds for used items.

Manager:  I'm sorry, but we only give store credit for used items.


Customer:  [Explains the situation]


Manager:  Give her her money back.

Just a bunch of random crap and a rant

Because I know how much people live for my tidbits of wisdom and observances.

- The next wedding I attend, even if it's a backyard barbecue with a knocked up bride wearing a camouflage wedding dress, I WILL wear an English Wedding Hat.  And gloves.

- Here's hoping HRH Duchess Catherine of Cambridge's wedding dress will finally, FINALLY put an end to the strapless wedding dress craze that is flattering on maybe 2% of the brides out there.  Let's bring sleeves back!

- I don't want to see Osama bin Laden's death portrait because, well, ewww.  But I DO want to see his death certificate.  The long version.  Not the one the state issues so you can be buried at sea.  Otherwise I just won't believe he's not just merely dead but really most sincerely dead.

- And I'm being totally sarcastic about the death certificate.  Because my name is not Donald Trump.  Or Sarah Palin.  Or any of the idiot "birthers."  Or "Deathers"or whatever stupid-ass name they call themselves.

- Because really, what a bunch of goddamn whackjobs.

- C'mon SiriusXM radio!  Why'dja have to go and change the channel lineup numbers?  Admit, you just want to fuck with your customers.  I'm still pissed that you got rid of the Old School punk station, Fungus 53.  Bastards.

- I'd really like to know who the people are on Facebook who come up with those "REPOST THIS AS YOUR STATUS IF YOU AGREE!" things.  And the reason I'd like to know who they are is so I can bitchslap them. 

- Ditto for those who somehow have the idea that if you DON'T repost whatever as your status, you're not a patriot and you hate your mother and you don't really WANT to find a cure for breast cancer because everyone knows that when you post the color of your bra or purse as your status, it's one step closer to finding a cure for cancer.  HOW that works, I don't know but people seem to think that's all it takes.  All righty then.

- If I get one more call from the Long Beach Press Telegram about my subscription, I will go all postal on them.  And you get to read my rant about it RIGHT NOW (lucky you!):

In the Fall of 2010, and by "Fall" I mean Autumn, November-ish, I get a phone call from the subscription department of the Long Beach Blab.  Seems there's a great offer where you get a year's subscription for the price of a 90 day subscription and I said, "Sign me up!" and we did it over the phone using my debit card.  Woo-hoo! I thought.  A week later, I get a bill.  A week after THAT, I get another bill.  Then another bill.  And another.  Basically, I received a bill from the Long Beach Press Telegram every. fucking. week.

I ignored those bills because *I* had paid for a year's subscription.  About a month ago, my paper stopped being delivered.  And then the phone calls started about how I was delinquent and until I paid my back subscription, I would no longer receive my paper.

Whoa whoa whoa, says I.  How, I ask, can I be delinquent when I paid for an entire year's subscription and it's been maybe 6 months.  What the hell, Press Telegram people!  

The LBPT people hem and haw and apologize and tell me that there seems to be a mix up and they're sorry and they'll make a note in "my file."  A "file" that must be at least 6 inches thick because lemme tell you, I've had issues (pun intended) with this paper since it was sold to some big newspaper conglomerate.

Anyhoo.  I still continued to NOT receive my paper and I still continued to receive a bill week after week after week and I still continued to receive phone calls.

And then yesterday, I get a collection notice.  

Oh no they di'in't!

So I immediately call the number on the collection notice, spend 15 minutes on hold and then finally speak to a real live person.  I explain the totally fucked up situation (Okay, I may have yelled and used a bit of profanity) and he apologizes and says he will note that the debt is in error and he also says I'm not the 1st person to complain about the LBPT's subscription screw up.

I thank "Scott" and I'm all, "Whew!  I'm glad THAT'S over with!" even though I totally got screwed because I paid for something I didn't get but whatever.

Then, while I was making dinner, the phone rings.  And by golly it's the collection agency calling to discuss my debt to the Long Beach Press Telegram and how would I like to pay said debt.

Oh no they di'in't!

You'll be shocked to learn that profanity WAS used along with threats to file a complaint with the Federal Trade Commission.

The female at the other end of the line was very apologetic and said she had made an error, that she now read where "Scott" had taken care of the matter and blah blah blah.

How much do you want to bet I'll be getting a call in the next few days from the Long Beach Press Telegram asking if I'm interested in renewing my subscription?

Uh huh.

I'll probably just end up in a faint:

There's one born every minute Part II

I have a confession to make.

I'm a complete and utter sucker for those "Seen on TV!" products.  Every time I'm at The Zhay, I HAVE to check out the "Seen on TV" display to see if there's something I must have.

You'd think I would have learned my lesson THIS TIME.  Those HD Sunglasses should have been an eye opener that these products just aren't *quite* what they claim.  Yes, I have purchased the Sham WOW! and WOW! Was I Not Impressed.

However, I keep trying for that Sucker of the Year award.

Today was no exception.

So I'm at The Zhay today and I was fumbling around in my purse for something when I saw It.  And thought to myself, THIS would be PERFECT!

So, allow me to demonstrate:

This is my purse:

 As you can see, it's not all THAT huge.  It's the perfect size for me because I don't carry everything and the kitchen sink around with me.

This is what it looks like inside:

Sometimes, it does seem like a Black Hole even though this is not a large bag.  My keys and a pen always seem to disappear and then I have to fumble around and I get all frustrated.

So, I purchased this:

THIS, I thought, would neatly organize everything in my bag and I will never have to fumble around for stuff again.

Hmm.

This is what my purse looks like WITH the Kangaroo Keeper, which really didn't fit quite right:

Uh huh.

And THIS is what it looks like without the KK and after I've tossed the unnecessary bits and pieces:

Is your mind boggled?  Is your Flabber Gasted?

MINE is.

Guess who's going to get her $9.99 plus tax back?

Jesus Saves but Esposito Scores on the Rebound

 

So yesterday was Easter and being as non-religious as all get out, we had a big ol' family frolic at my seester Bippy's house.  There was food galore, massive amounts of alcohol, mostly drunk by my BIL Gaga and his sidekick Sandy, aka, The Creeper" on account he was creeping out Thing 1's girlfriend (but in a funny, dirty old man kind of way) and making highly inappropriate yet hilarious jokes and comments.  Niece Erika made a surprise visit from her home in Reno and we also celebrated young cousin (1st cousin once removed?  2nd cousin?  She's young so we just called her "Niece") Leslie's 20th birthday.

The kids also had an Easter Egg hunt, with Thing 2's Competitive Nature kicking in and there may have been some pushing and shoving and cries of "Hey, Not Fair!"

The highlight of our get together was the Thrilling Egg Toss.  The teams lined up facing each other and the tossing of the eggs commenced.  Yes, we tossed hard boiled eggs because really, who wants to be splattered with gooey raw egg?  But did you know that if you toss a peeled hard boiled egg, it has a tendency to disintegrate in mid air, usually right above face level so that you get splattered with bits and pieces of egg?  Yeah, found that out the hard way, I did. 

Unfortunately, in the midst of all the hilarity of the day, there were tears and cursing and wailing and tearing of hair and rending of garments.
 
I didn't MEAN to be a Debbie Downer but my hockey team, the Anaheim Ducks, were eliminated in the NHL playoffs right before my very eyes.


Of COURSE I was watching hockey on Easter.


Doesn't everybody?


Jesus would have totally understood.

After all, He Saves.

"Just have dinner with him" she said

Today is a very special day.  

Do you know WHY today is a very special day?

I posed this question to my Angel of the Morning this morning and guess what her reply was?

"It's too frickin' early to play stupid guessing games, MOTHER."

Such a JOY she is in the morning, I tell you.

You're probably thinking that the answer to the question is "It's Earth Day!" or even "It's Good Friday!" both of which are good and technically correct answers neither has anything to do with WHY this is such a special day.


I'll give you a hint:

Yep.  22 years ago today, TheManTheMyth's Carefree Life as a Bachelor came to a screeching halt. 

And he still hasn't recovered.  If fact, if I want to see him cringe and wince, all I have to do is remind him that we've been married TWENTY TWO YEARS.  And I say it in a Very Dramatic and Ominous Voice.

It's fun to do that.

Being the Non-Romantics that we are, we'll be celebrating our TWENTY TWO YEAR anniversary the same way we celebrate Valentine's Day.  And by that, I mean we Don't.  Aren't.  Whatever.


I don't need a fancy gift or flowers from TheManTheMyth to know how much he loves me.


I KNOW he loves me; I tell him so every day.  I say, "You Love me!" and he recites back, "Yes dear" in a robotic voice.


See?  There's the proof RIGHT THERE.


I had no idea when I went to a friend's birthday party 24 years ago that I would be pestered all night long by some guy who just would NOT leave me alone.  He even threw himself at my feet so he could be in a picture:

I finally had to leave the party to get away from him.  About 2 weeks later, my sister tells me, "Keith wants to ask you out."  My answer?  "Who the hell is Keith?"


Once I figured out who she was talking about, I wasn't particularly interested because I had just come out of a long term relationship and really didn't want to date anyone.  My sister tells me, "Just have dinner with him, it's not like you're going to MARRY him."


SUCKER!

Just Call Her Angel of the Morning

Thing 2, my darling daughter Thing 2, is many things.  She is beautiful, intelligent, clever, compassionate, affectionate, a natural athlete (which is her brother is Not and don't think she doesn't remind him of that) and she's one of the funniest people she knows.  Just ask her.


But there's one thing she is Not.  She is not a Morning Person.


This is someone who, if left undisturbed, would sleep until the afternoon.  She loves her some sleep and actually refers to herself as a "Professional Sleeper."


So you can imagine how much fun it is around here on weekday mornings when she has to be awoken at the ungodly hour of 6:45am.  


Oh, the Horror.

Seriously, it's like trying to rouse a vampire in the daylight.  There's the hiss and recoil as the light hits her and I half expect to see her skin blister and peel and her feet and legs roll up and slide back under the house.  


Oh.  Wait.


That's for the Wicked Witch of the East.


My bad.


When she emerges from The Cave, she is wrapped from head to toe in a heavy blanket.  Her face is hidden by the folds of the blanket.  She stumbles down the hall towards the living room, turning off lights as she goes.  

Breakfast is eaten in silence as she is incapable of forming words, let alone sentences.  Any attempts at conversation on my part is met with growls, scowls and grunts.

This morning while she was eating her Eggos, I was commenting on something of no particular importance because I have been known to babble now and then and she puts down her fork, turns to me and says, 


"You're really chatty this morning.  STOP. IT."


So being the kind, caring Mom that I am, a Mom who understands her daughter's desire for peace and quiet in the morning, I kick it up a notch and start babbling about anything and everything, just so I can watch her irritation levels rise to Def Con levels.


The drive to school was also a barrel of laughs as I continued to babble and she continued to seethe and say things such as, "Why are you doing this?  You know I'm not a Morning Person.  God!"


As she exits the car, I call out, "Have a Nice Day!" and while she didn't flip me off, I could tell she was considering it as she stalked off.


That's my little Angel of the Morning.

I'm such a Twit

Okay, I have a Twitter account, @AnotherKelly.  I've had it for, I dunno, maybe 2 years.  

Hang on, lemme check.  Oh.  March of 2009.  So yeah, 2 years.

ANYWAY.

I rarely tweet (twit? chirp?) and I don't know all the lingo and and I don't follow trending topics or chitchat back and forth with people.


In other words, I'm not one of the Cool Twitter peeps.


But I'm okay with that.

Lately, I've been puzzled (what else is new?) because I keep getting notices from The Twitter that So-and-So is now following me on Twitter.  But here's the kicker:  they are all church-related.

And I'm thinking to myself, Do these people/groups even READ what I tweet?  Because I use The Profanity.  A lot.  Mostly the Eff Word but sometimes I also take the Lord's Name in Vain.  So where in the Sam Hill would they get the idea that we share similar interests?

Let's see, have I expressed an interest in going to India as an evangelical Christian Missionary to save the souls of the heathens?

That would be No.

Am I interested in Bible Study as a member of faith-based organization?

That would be No.

Am I even part of a faith-based organization?

That would be No.

Am I even a Christian?

That would be No.

You can see my confusion as to why religious (read: Christian) groups want to follow me on The Twitter.

So after the latest notification, I decided that maybe I should take a look at my Twitter page and see what the hell is going on.

Oh.  It's my Bio description.

Cheezus, you throw the words, "Baby Jesus" in your bio and these church groups think it's an open invitation.


Did they not read the entire sentence?


I'm make Him cry, Goddammit!


God only knows what these groups would think if they saw what I post on The Facebook.


I don't think they'd be sending me any "friend" requests.


I'm so going to hell in a bucket on a bobsled.