Friday, August 19, 2005

Mag Lite...Check

I guess I had a power surge that "partially tripped" my circuit-or something like that. This caused the outlet that my security system in the House of Mags is plugged into, to shut off. This, in turn, caused said security system to rely only on it's battery backup, which promptly died, leaving my only defense to be the mag lite I sleep with when Mr. CM is not here. (See #90 on the Meme list)

I had to call the security idiots to come help me.

First of all-who gives a 4 hour window?! Not even the cable company, I'd say. In fact, my company happens to give service windows on a daily basis, and ours is a 2 hour time frame-and we're only talking photographs-no security issues at all. Whatever. I chose 8am-Noon.

So yesterday morning I got up around 7:30am. Because I didn't want to be in the shower when the doorbell rang, I decided I would call the company to find out if they at least knew where the drivers were starting. If they were starting an hour away, I'd know I had enough time to shower.

So, Laquisha or something like that answers the phone-I can already tell just by the yawn in her voice that she hates her job. Great. Giving her the benefit of the doubt, I say:

Me:"Hi, I have an appointment today between 8-12 and was wondering if you could tell me where I fell in that slot."
Laquisha: "No."
Just like that. Really. She just said "No." without anything else. "No."
Me: "Um. Ok. There's no way of finding out where they are at least starting their route today?"
Laquisha: "No ma'am. There's no way of knowing that. There's not like, sum list or suttin'"
Me: "Ok. Can I please have the number to the local office?"
Laquisha: "They don't take dierect calls, n if they did....there's no list."
She said that kinda snotty like too. With just the right amount of pause before saying, "there's not list" to piss me off.
Me: "Reeeally. Ok. Thanks."

And I hung up. Now, I happen to KNOW they take direct calls, because I've spoken to them. Whatever. So now I'm angry. So I call back. I'm pretty sure my friend Laquisha answered again, but I can't be sure, so let's just pretend it was her again, k?

Me: (Really sweet voice) Hi...I have an appointment for today, but I have to cancel it. I feel bad though-are you going to be able to get in touch with your guys to let them know they don't have to drive all the way here?"
Laquisha: "Yes ma'am, that's not a problem, we kin let them know."

Damn right you can call them. Bitch.

The problem is that they control my security system, and know all of my codes. I am not fucking with them.

But wait! There's more!

So I didn't shower. Because, well, read above...and at like, 11am I'm still waiting. And my phone rings and it's my security system rep. He says, "Did you get my message?" I didn't, and so I told him that. He said, "Oh. I left you a message." He didn't. He also didn't call. I have caller ID on both phones. Anyway, he tried telling me he could help me over the phone. Which he couldn't-we'd already tried that. He was mad. You know why? Because "the people who answer the phones" overbooked them and they are running late. He was hoping to cancel.

Now I'm really angry. First I had to talk to yawny Laquisha who lied to me, and now Jeremy my rep lied to me and is trying to say he can't get someone here.

Fuck that.

I fought back and I won. However....

When the doorbell rang, Mr. Ghetto superstar hisself walked (or limped) into my house. What happened to polo shirts with company logos and khaki pants? Especially for people who are coming to fix an ALARM system. I mean-us scaredy cats don't really appreciate thugs knowing our passwords. And he was pretty thuggish. I mean, I would not run from him on the street, but I certainly stayed near my cell phone and knew where my back up mag lite was.

So when he asked me what my password was, I hesitated.

Don't get me wrong, he was very polite. Though I really, really hate it when kids who grew up in the north talk like they are from the south just because they think it's cool, or ghetto or whatever it means-it's lame. He did use my name several times and he was able to tell me what was wrong...

Just, well, maybe for a few days I'll still sleep with my mag lite in my hands and not under the pillow...just until he forgets my code.

Peace one....

In an effort to speak in ghettoese, I had to call little sissy mags and her friends who assured me that the above phrase is, in fact, a ghetto goodbye. I am sooo lame.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

maybe its time to switch companies? scary!