Life Lesson #47: Para el español, permanezca por favor en la línea.

Music that, unbeknownst me, I like enough to pay two bucks a pop for:

Atrevete, by Winsin Y Yandel
Sola, by Hector El Father
Ya No Es Igual, by Frankie J
Igual Quw Ayer, by Ken-Y
Mayor Que Yo (parte 2, no parte 1), also by Winsin Y Yandel

But my taste is not just caliente-flavored. I also seem to be into mainstream rap these days:

Shortie Like Mine, by Bow Wow
Money Maker, by Ludacris
Smack That (Remix), by Akon
I Luv It, by Young Jeezy

Oh, and I might be a lesbian with a fondness for the white stuff. Because I really can’t get enough of GuyStuff wallpaper and Maxim Girls screensavers, which I’m willing to pay up to nine bucks an image for, and I downloaded Scarface in the middle of a Tuesday afternoon. Twice.

According to my most recent phone bill, I’m a tortillera chica de compania. Ole!

Well, sorry Verizon, but contrary to the above, I am not a partying, Latin lesbian. But trying to get these assholes to believe me was like trying to get an apology from the White House.

Oh – and if you talked to my gym, I go so much, they thought that debiting my account three times in one month seemed about right. Which is really funny, because anyone that knows me can tell my ass is not one that spends massive amounts of time at the gym.

Trying to clear that mess up was quite the adventure. No one at an actual club can help you. Their 800 Member number? Does not exist. And I’m pretty sure that when you send them an email, they take your address and sell it to other companies who in turn flood your inbox with crappy advertisements. It got to the point where I thought maybe I’d spend a night or two at the gym. I figured I might as well use their facilities to the max if they were just going to rape me with charges anyway. But then the idea of spending a night in those creepy bathrooms kind of weirded me out. So I’ve been stealing towels instead. And a box of tissue now and then. Tit for tat, I say.

When I finally got a human being on the line after a week of calling, I was glad I don’t possess the power to travel through telephone cords. Because I most certainly would have used my powers to kill the woman on the other end.

Of course, it’s not just me who deals with life’s irritations. We all do. But doesn’t it seem, just like every other time when it rains, all these annoyances come pouring down at once? Suddenly your bank account goes from cushy to negative because three different automatic debits go haywire. Your patience for human beings tumbles from slim to nonexistent.

What’s really driving me nuts this week, though, is that I’m dealing with all of this type of stuff for my boss as well. While I’m his assistant (four more days, four more days!), I handle some personal stuff as well. Which means more wrong numbers, recorded messages, and people who claim it’s their first day and they have no idea what they’re doing.

So what’s the deal here? I’m going to go out on a limb and say that we’ve reached the end of the Customer Service Age. People may still get paid to answer your calls of frustration, but they are far and few between. The problem really lies in that those real, breathing, eating, teeth-sucking employees, whose main job focus is CUSTOMER SERVICE, generally act like helping you is a total, inconvenient, above-and-beyond task.

Well, I’m sorry, but it is not. It is, however, what you are paid to do.

Listen, I know it’s not a great paying job. And they probably deal with a lot of angry, bitchy people, not unlike me. But you know what? There are tons of other jobs out there that require one to deal with other human beings on a minimum level. Like street cleaners, zoo keepers, subway drivers, morticians, bookkeepers, mail deliverers, truck drivers, dog walkers, or medical examiners, just to name a few.

Life Lesson #47: After many, many wasted hours trying to resolve these issues, I was able to. And to my satisfaction. Verizon dropped the charges after they realized a technical glitch on their part and NYSC finally gave me my money back. I even made headway in regards to my boss’s matters. So I guess the way to go is by starting off calm, rational, even sympathetic. Stick with it ‘til you think you can’t do it anymore. Then change your tactic. Demand a supervisor, refuse to get off unless something is done, and ultimately, don’t back down (all pending you’re in the right, of course).

Oh, and when you need a moment to regroup, put them on hold for a bit. Let me tell you, it feels good!


Life Lesson #46: Sticks and Stones May Break Penny’s Bones, But Momments Will Never Hurt Me. Part 2

I got a lot of great feedback from last week’s Life Lesson #46. I didn’t realize so many people get the same sort of crap from their moms. Leads me to believe that the honing of bitchy, below-the-belt guidance is part of the Secret Rites of Motherhood. So I thought I’d share another gem from yesterday, via her new favorite mode of communication, email (“Oh, I didn’t mean for it to sound like that! That’s just how you read it!):

My email to my mom:
Thanks again for last night – dinner was delicious as always! I’m still full…

Her lovely response:
Glad you guys had a good time. Grandpa really likes Hansel, he can understand him when he speaks as he talks SLOWLY AND LOUDLY! Hint.

Life Lesson #46: Sticks and Stones May Break Penny’s Bones, But Momments Will Never Hurt Me.

“Just make sure you don’t get pregnant.”

Um, thanks Mom.

This is the type of thing that all mothers say to their daughters on a pretty regular basis. Maybe not about getting knocked up exactly. The above is merely a specific example of those back-handed Mom Comments, or what I like to call Momments, which are thinly veiled as advice. In actuality, their just nasty little ways to really get under our skin and suck the wind out from under us.

The funny thing is you probably think the remark seems so ridiculous because it’s just a lone sentence floating with no other dialogue to steer it in any one direction. Out of context, it sounds pretty awful. You guess the actual conversation it popped up in would make it seem not nearly as bad as it reads alone at the top of the page.

Honestly, the rest of the conversation doesn’t provide any sort of absorption. If anything, it makes it worse. Because I had just told my mom that I had been promoted at work.

“I’m so excited! I just found out that I got that job I interviewed for a few weeks ago. I think it was down to someone else and they turned it down – but still! I’ll be starting in two weeks…” I babbled to my mom on the phone as I left work at the end of the day.

“Oh great! This really sounds like a good opportunity. Now what exactly is it again?” she asked.

“Well, the title is Associate Product Manager, but it’s within the merchandising department.”

“That is wonderful. And the new apartment; how is that going?” she asked. I just moved last week.

“Really good! The week was crazy and I totally hurt my back from lugging everything. But we unpacked most of the stuff and are just trying to organize and get settled,” I said as I tried to hail a cab home. “I can’t wait for you and dad to see it.”

“I’m glad to hear that! A new apartment, living with your boyfriend, a promotion: these are all great things,” she said.

“I know! I feel like things are really going well,” I said, hopping into the cab.

Then, the Momment.

“Just make sure you don’t get pregnant.”

Thank baby Jesus I was sitting down. I blanked for a few seconds before the weight of the Momment actually pushed down on my chest. When it finally did, I could barely find words.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m just saying; mother to daughter. Woman to woman. Things are going very well for you right now. So make sure you don’t get pregnant.”

Wham.

If you’re a dude, chances are you don’t think this is particularly mean. Or a reason to get all worked up. And, well, maybe some sound advice, all things considered. But let me explain something to you: Momments are not directed at us out of love or guidance. What they are directed out of is spite and the smallest bit of jealousy. Momments are hurtful remarks that are out of place, unnecessary, and sound much meaner opposed to how they read.

Some examples of the difference between Advice and Momments:

1. Joe is taking me out to dinner tonight for our anniversary!
Advice would be:
“Order the dessert; you only live once!”
Momments would be:
“Don’t eat too much; you don’t want to get fat.”

2. I was thinking about coloring my hair.
Advice would be:
“You should try something that complements your coloring.”
Momments would be:
“Try not to go so blonde this time.”

3. I took off work yesterday. I had the worst chest cold and could barely get out of bed.
Advice would be:
“Try to rest up the next few days; you don’t want to get more sick.”
Momments would be:
“You know, I never used to get as sick as you do when I was younger. Probably because I didn’t go out nearly as much as you do.”

And my own dear mother's personal zinger:
4. I got a promotion at work and the new apartment is looking good.
Advice would be:
“Congratulations! And enjoy this; it’s a great time in your life.”
Momments would be:
“Just make sure you don’t get pregnant.”

Imagine someone punching you in the gut as you celebrate your team’s victory. Or getting a brick tossed at your head as you walk down the street, enjoying your tunes and the nice weather. Or a friend running by and kicking you in the nuts as you talk to a hot girl at a bar. It’s kind of like that. Except unlike physical wounds that in time heal, Momments cut much deeper and are crystallized in our memories for what I’m guessing is a very, very long time.

Life Lesson #46: Momments are the worst. They can completely change your mood in half a second flat. And not in a positive way. But I’m a big girl now. I can’t let these things bother me anymore. If I did, I’d not talk to the woman for ten days straight and dye my hair purple (which I have done). Clearly, I don’t want to be bothered by Momments any more then the next gal, but they're to stay. So the best I can do is brush them off and come up with a witty comeback.

“Just make sure you don’t get pregnant.”

“Oh, definitely not. Look how that turned out for you!”