Monday, February 26, 2007

the Week of the Snippy Old Lady

I hope this isn't indicative of the rest of the year.

Exhibit A: Practicing the umbrella form at the start of tai chi class on Saturday. Two new students come in, one who came with Communiversity last week, and a friend. We handed them umbrellas and ushered them to the floor. Sit started at the beginning, as always, out of deference to them. Taught the opening moves. After three or four repetitions, the friend starts whining, "How come everyone else already knows this? I thought this was a beginners' class!" which necessitated a halt of everything so we could explain to her that there is only ONE class, and if she'll shut up and pay attention, she'll be held by the hand as much as necessary.

Exhibit B: In the grocery store, a hefty and bulldog-jawed woman in one of those powered drive-carts stops the assistant manager and says, "Are you Rob? Do you remember me? I used to come in all the time, a couple years ago. I'm back, now. Back in the neighborhood." She made it sound like a threat. Fifteen minutes later I was stuck behind her in the checkout line while she retallied all her order, divided up payment between cash and debit, and counted out change. I can excuse this, people are on a budget, but she took her time complaining about the service in the store and how everything had been moved around and made more difficult, instead of counting. While this was going on, another white-haired old lady pushing a cart stopped in the main aisle and hollered at the cashier, "Where's the baking powder!?" No "excuse me," no waiting until the cashier was free, nothing like that. Just yelling right over my head. I directed her to aisle six.

Exhibit C: Me, at the bank, tapping my foot while two cashiers empty the change machine, one disappears into the back, and the assistant manager stands chatting with the guy at the head of the line, while four of us stand there figiting and there are NO cashiers behind the counter. Eventually the girls emptying the machine skip back behind the counter, and the first teller apologized to me for the wait, but the look on my face must've been threatening because she was very nervous and obsequious. "I would like a change of address form," I said very carefully.

Exhibit D: Me, venting my frustration on a "Customer Service Supervisor" at CapitalOne, trying to convey to her that I would like to pay off my credit card as quickly as possible, and toward that end it would be extremely helpful if she could either lower the interest rate, which is obscene, or remove the "restricted" status placed on the card 18 months ago, thanks to my &#!$^(*$!) ex-husband. "Oh, but you had a late payment," she said. I informed her that was incorrect. "Oh, but the computer says so. You had an interest rate of 9.0 back in December but your payment was late so we raised it again." My dear lady: my interest rate was never down that low, and my payment was not late. And I want that $35 late fee taken off of there, too. She did agree to that last, but I'm still paying 19.9% APR. They're lucky I don't declare bankruptcy and/or charge off the whole thing. I did investigate filing fraud charges, since most of that balance was charged by my ex without my knowledge, but they only give you 90 days after the fraudulent use to do that. In my current mood, I'm fantasizing about taking my ex and/or his parents to small claims court for half the charges.

I have a hair appointment this afternoon. I'm almost afraid to go. In my current mood I'll come out of there looking like Britney Spears.

No comments: