You Absolutely CANNOT Fix Stupid...No Matter How Hard You Try!

Hey, all!  How are ya?  Long time no talk.  I know…I know…that’s totally my fault!  I took off for the convention in Nashville without the power cord for my laptop.  So I had to go online and order a new one from Amazon and have it shipped to the hotel…but, alas, too late to get my blog written.  So my apologies for being MIA!!!

Okay, so I’m back online with my new power cord, and this week’s blog is about stupidity.  Those of you who know me know that there’s nothing that gets me spun up faster than stupid…and like Ron White says, “You can’t fix stupid.”

And I know it’s not just me that agrees with that because I used to have a trailer hitch cover that said, “You can’t fix stupid.”  Used to.  Not any more…someone stole it.  Speaking of stupid, I think that one speaks for itself!

Anyway, my friend, K. T. Roberts, and I drove across the country for the Nashville conference, and I’m happy to report that stupidity is alive and well everywhere!

For starters, we stopped in New Mexico at a fast food restaurant, which shall remain unnamed.  Suffice it to say, when my son was very small, he misunderstood the commonly accepted nickname of the restaurant chain and insisted on calling it “The Gold Narches”.  Enough said.

Anyway, K.T. and I pull up to the speaker and I order “two large iced coffees, black…one decaf, one regular.”  Seemed easy at the time.  Oh, silly me!

“Two large iced coffees?”

“Yes, black…one decaf and one regular.”  I’m making sure they don’t miss anything.

“Would you like cream in that?”

Seriously?  K. T. and I look at each other and shake our heads.  “No, black.”

“You want sweetener?”

Really?  “No…black.  Just coffee and ice.”

“You want that iced?”

Sigh.  “Yes.  Two large black iced coffees, but we need one of them decaf and the other regular.”

“Okay.  That will be (whatever the price was) at the first window.”

Finally!!!

So we get to the window and the coffees come out.  I look at them and they look suspiciously identical.  So I ask, “Which one is decaf?”

I get the blank stare.  “Decaf?”

Sigh.  “Yes, decaf.  One is supposed to be regular and the other decaf.”

She shakes her head.  “They’re both regular.  We can’t do decaf iced.”

Are you effing kidding me?

I take a deep breath, glance at K. T., and struggle not to laugh at the look on her face.  “Do you have decaf coffee?”

The girl nods.  “Yes.”

“Do you have ice?”

She nods again. “Yes.”

I know it’s wrong, but this just called for condescending.  “So just pour the decaf coffee over a large cup of ice.”

I get the blank stare.  “But the ice will melt.”

Are you freaking kidding me?

I take another deep breath and smile.  “Yes, it will.”

She is still confused.

How?  How is this confusing?  How?

I must be skating dangerously close to the “out of control” foul line because she now has to go get the manager.  Clearly annoyed, the manager comes to the window and informs us they don’t have iced decaf coffee.

Noooooooooooooo…not the manager too?!

Again, “Do you have decaf coffee?”

The manager nods.  “Yes.”

“Do you have ice?”

She nods again.  “Yes.”

“Then put lots of ice in a big cup and pour the coffee over it.”

And I am NOT freaking kidding you…I get, “But the hot coffee will melt the ice.”

I’m still smiling…now it’s because I’m desperately trying not to laugh because I can’t take much more stupidity.  And I don’t dare look at K. T. because her internal thoughts (and mine) are shrieking though the cab of the truck—Are you effing kidding me?  It takes all I can muster to reply, “Yes, it will…and that’s fine.  Just use lots of ice.”

Problem solved.  The manager now turns to her employee and gives her permission to pour hot decaf coffee over the top of a cup of ice and give it to the morons at the drive-thru window.  Yeah!!!

Oh, wait…one more thing she needs to confirm—“Do you want cream and sweetener in that?”

WTF?!!!!!  NO!!!!!!!!!!!!  When did “black” stop meaning “black”?

We get our drinks…finally…and we leave the drive-thru, about to pee our pants because we are laughing so freaking hard.  I have never in my life had so much trouble trying to order an iced decaf coffee, black.  What the hell is so hard to understand about that?  Seriously?

Well, the story doesn’t end there…not only did we encounter the same scenario at least twice more on our trip…almost verbatim…but our next stop was a dollar store.  Now, keep in mind that this is one of those dollar stores where EVERYTHING in the store is…wait for it…ONE DOLLAR!

So K. T. and I do a little shopping and take our treasures to the checkout.  I’m the first to be rung up and my bill comes to $24.00 and change…which means I’ve purchased…you got it…23 items, give or take a bit for sales tax.  I swear on my life, the checker processed my card and then looked at me and asked, “Would you like a bag with that?”

Really?

I cut my gaze to K. T. and she had the same stunned look on her face that I’m sure was on mine.  Now, I don’t care if all I bought was chewing gum…23 packs of chewing gum would be tough to navigate to the truck without a freaking bag!

You would have been sooooooo proud of me!  I didn’t give her “the look”, I didn’t point out how difficult it would be to carry 23 items—makeup bags, bows, nail files and brushes—to the car without a bag.  I didn’t do any of that.  Nope, I didn’t even smile and say, “Here’s your sign.”

BUT I WANTED TO!!!

No, I just nodded and said, “Yes, a bag would be good.”

She gave me a bag, we bagged my stuff, K. T. paid for hers (and got a bag too), and we hightailed it out of there.  And you can bet we didn’t drink the water…it could be contagious!

Ron White is right…YOU CAN’T FIX STUPID!  And as his buddy, Jeff Foxworthy, would say, “Here’s your sign.”

That’s my story, stupid and stupendous, and I’m stickin’ to it.  Hang on tight now, ‘cuz we’re gonna go real, real fast!

Love ya,

Kayce

BRAIN-DEAD CUSTOMER SERVICE

Hey guys!  Good to see you all again.  So, how ya be?  I’m great at this end.  Kicking butt and getting butt kicked, so it’s situation normal for me.  LOL

Okay, today’s topic is rules or processes that make absolutely no sense and the people who blindly enforce them—and have I got a doosey!  My mother’s internet has been down for two months…that is 2 freaking long months, and it’s taken an act of God to get the local land line company to send someone out to look at it.

You’d think filing a trouble report would be easy—but you would be wrong.  Not with this company.  Maybe if you live in the perfect world with no challenges, your interactions with them go smoothly.  But I don’t live in a perfect world and neither does anyone else in my family.  In fact, we have extra challenges—and this company CANNOT handle challenges.

So, just to make sure you all know the challenges here, my mother is deaf.  She’s been deaf her entire life and speaks sign language, so communication is challenge number one.  Challenge number two is that she’s 83 years old, and still lives in her house with the support of a Life Alert device.  Challenge number three is that she needs a walker to get around. To communicate with the outside world, she uses a video phone that works through her internet connection.  When she makes a call, a translator intercepts the call and acts as the go-between to read her signs and translate to another person on a normal telephone, and vice versa.

Now, if you’ve been following all this, you will understand that if her internet has been down for two months, so has her phone.  Remember when I said she’s 83 years old and uses a walker? Yeah, that means she’s not very mobile and because she is on a fixed income, she stays home most of the time.  So her video phone is her only contact with the outside world, and her biggest means of socialization…not to mention it’s how her Life Alert unit works.

So now you have an 83 year old woman stuck in her house with no way to communicate with the outside world.  Sad but true.  So you’d think when her daughter places a call to the land line company to tell them her internet service has been down for a month, they’d bend over backward to help an old woman out.  But nooooo…not this company.  Instead of being compassionate and sending a technician right out, they are focused on the fact that her daughter (me) is not listed as a contact on her account.

Now, keep in mind that this is a phone company.  It’s not a bank or a credit card company.  I’m not trying to steal her millions (as if she had some).  I’m not trying to create havoc by vindictively having the phone company cut off someone’s service.  I’m not trying to hack into her credit card or order merchandise on her nickel.  It’s a freaking phone company, people!  I’m just trying to get her phone repaired.

I patiently explain to the first guy that I need to have a repairman out to her house.  He says he can’t take that order from me because I’m not designated on her account.  I ask him where I can send in a copy of the Power of Attorney and he says there is no way to do that.  What??!!  Okay, then how can we get this resolved?  His response?  Priceless!  They will have to talk to her personally.  I explain to him again that she’s deaf.  He says that’s okay, she can call them using a TDD number.  Seriously?  Uh…she’s still deaf.  I explain (still patiently) that because she’s deaf, she uses a video phone which works over her internet, which is…wait for it…DOWN! He says they either have to talk to her or I have to be there with her when I call them.  I tell him I’m not making a 40 mile round-trip drive just to get a technician dispatched.  He can’t help me then.  Really?  I need to talk to a manager.

Okay, now I’m on a minimum 20 minute hold because part of their process is to punish you for wanting to speak with someone that’s empowered by putting you on criminally long hold times.  So I hold and finally a supervisor comes on (even though I’d asked for a manager).  I start all over at the beginning with this guy and the story is the same.  They can’t take a request from me because I’m not listed on the account, there is nowhere to send a copy of the Power of Attorney, and I have to be there with her in order for them to take the request from me.

Now I’m becoming a little less patient (translation…about to sail over the edge).  I ask if they can see the line is down from their end and he puts me on hold again.  When he comes back, he confirms that yes, they can see the line is not working.  So I say great…can you just send someone out to fix it?  Uh…no…because I’m not listed on the contract.  Freaking seriously?!  So I asked him how can we get this resolved?  He suggests she call them herself at the TDD number.  Again with the TDD number?  I explain yet one more time that she uses a video phone that works over the internet…no internet, no phone. He’s apparently reading from the same script as the first guy because he suggests she go to a neighbor and borrow their phone.  Uh…no, she is still DEAF and does not have the equipment it takes to use their phones.  Oh, well then maybe a neighbor can make the call for her.  Really?  I’m surrounded by ijits!  I explain that she is deaf and the neighbors cannot speak sign language…so how the hell is she supposed to even talk to the neighbors?  I ask if they can’t make an exception this once since they can see all the challenges we are facing.  Uh…no.  Okay, I’m done with you…I need to speak to a higher level manager.

Alrighty then…another 20 minute hold while they punish me even more for wanting to talk to an empowered/intelligent human being.

Finally I get a manager on the line and we go through all the same crap yet one more time!  She’s deaf, I’m not on the account, we can see the line is dead but we can’t send a technician on your request, she can use the neighbor’s phone, she can get the neighbors to call for her…SHE IS FREAKING DEAF!!!  This is the point at which I sailed completely over the edge and began cursing and hinting that they have processes in place that discriminate against the deaf.  I figure I’m gonna start with a hint and move (quickly) up to a full-fledged threat if I have to go up another level.  But this guy is much smarter than the first two.  So after we move through all the same levels of suggestions and countering, he finally starts looking for ways he can help me without breaking their rules.  This is different!  So when I tell him I can log into her online account and give him any piece of information he needs and he can see that it is my phone number and email address specified as primary contact, he finally hits on the solution.  So he asks me what the profile name is on her online account…I give it to him.  Eureka!  Now he’s willing to dispatch a technician.  Mind you now, we are also now two freaking hours into this phone call!!!

Okay, now we fast forward to two weeks later.  The technician never showed, and the phone is still dead as a doornail.  So I have to call again.  Imagine how tickled I am about this!  So I steel myself and I dial the phone…but this time I do it from mom’s house so she is sitting right there next to me just like everyone on the previous call suggested, which assures they will take the request from me.  Right?  Oh, silly girl!

This time I get a woman who puts me through all the very same suggestions that I encountered 3 times on the previous call…and my mother is still DEAF.  So I remind the woman that their policy is that they can take the request from me as long as I have her with me.  Uh…no…apparently that policy only applies if she’s NOT deaf and…well, she’s still DEAF.  Crap!  I need to speak with your manager, please.

You guessed it…20 minute hold while they punish me yet a third time for wanting them to actually provide the service my mother is paying through the nose for.  I get a guy this time that seems to be on a par with the last guy from the first call…these two are at least riding the long bus.  But, alas, he’s no more empowered than the first woman.  So after going (for the fourth time) through every stinking objection and suggestion on their standard script, and confirming that the first three people were wrong and sitting next to my mother only works if she can hear, I thank him (for being of absolutely no help) and ask for his manager.

Aw crap!  I keep forgetting about the mandatory 20 minutes in the penalty box for expecting customer service.  All right, it’s been an hour and I’m due to a meeting in a half hour.  There is not enough time to sit on the 20 minute hold and go through all the objections again before my meeting.  So I’m forced to hang up.

There must be another way.  Sweet baby Jesus, this is more painful than a root canal and natural childbirth put together!  And keep in mind that we are now almost 2 months down the road and this poor old woman is still a victim of a phone company who charges top-tier prices for crappy service.

So, the bottom line is that one week later, the technician finally shows up at the house.  It takes him 5 minutes to discover that the line from the pole to the house is dead and he has to call out a crew to fix it, so he’s not sticking around.  They should have it fixed in a day or two.  Seriously?  How in hell am I supposed to believe that?  In the meantime, they have also sold this poor old woman trying to get by on a fixed income a $100 modem because they were so certain that it was a faulty modem (even though they had not been out to properly diagnose the problem).  Thank you, phone company, for your outstanding customer service!  (NOT)

Well, I think I can safely say that their service truly does stand out from the crowd.  I’ll let you know later if the phone ever gets fixed.  If not, you’ll probably see my mug shot on the 9pm news as they haul me off in handcuffs.

How about you?  Ever had an experience similar to this where you encountered stupidity so rampant that it deserved an Olympic medal?   Leave me a comment with a brief description of your brush with stupid.  Misery loves company and I’d love to hear your story too!

That’s my story, bone-headed and braindead, and I’m stickin’ to it.  Hang on tight now, ‘cuz we’re gonna go real, real fast!

Love ya,

Kayce

DIVINE INTERVENTION REQUIRED!

You all know how I hate stupidity.  Well, it's alive and thriving at one of the local banks today, who shall remain nameless.  But I'm a little worried that these people and these systems manage our vast fortunes!  So here's what happened...and I'm tickled as hell to report that Stupid Girl had absolutely no involvement this time.

I logged onto the online system to update the phone number on my mom's account to my cell number.  I decided to do this because I manage her finances and when there is a problem at the bank, they call her and she usually does not understand what they are talking about.  But because she is nice and wants to be accommodating, she tells them whatever they want to know.  Sometimes it's really the bank, sometimes it's someone she just thinks is the bank.  Very confusing for her, and very risky for her finances.

A few months ago, someone hacked into her account and tried to spend her money.  So the bank called and explained the problem, got a bunch of information from her, and then told her they had straightened out the situation.  I was not involved in these discussions at all, so was unaware of what had transpired.  Not knowing all the complexities of banking and how her account is set up, she had no clue that some of her auto-pays had been turned off when the bank declined payment while they were straightening out this mess.  Or rather, she didn't know they had been turned off until the lights, phone, and TV went out.  That's when I was called in to straighten things out.

So...long story short, I decide it would be best if they call me directly so the right hand knows what the left hand is doing and everything stays aligned properly.  I'm the Power Of Attorney and a signer on her account, so no problem...I should be able to just log into the online system and change the phone number on the account.  Oh, silly me!  That would be way too easy and make just too damn much sense.  LOL

So I log in and the system does allow me to change the work phone number and the mobile number, but apparently people are never allowed to change their home phone number.  Really?  I look at the screen and think maybe it's because the home number is listed as the primary number.  Okay.  So once the work number is changed to my cell number, I try to change the primary designation so that the work number is primary.  Nope.  Apparently that's not allowed either.  Crap!  All right, so now I have to call the bank

I get a guy on the phone and I explain the problem and tell him I am listed on the account as the POA and a signer.  He asks me for the last 4 of my social and I give it to him.  Then he asks me to confirm recent deposits and debits and I read them to him straight from the bank's online screen...because I am still logged into the online system that allowed me to change the work phone number.  He tells me those amounts are not correct.  Really?  I tell him I'm reading them straight off their online system.  So then he asks me what my login account name is and I tell him.  Then he says that doesn't exist.  Really?  What part doesn't he understand of..."I am logged into my mother's account right now on your freaking online system with that login name"?

He says he's very sorry, but that's an invalid login id and he's not allowed to give me information on my mother's account anyway.  Steam is coming out of my ears by this point and I again point out that I am the POA and I am listed as a signer on the account.  He puts me on hold and goes for help.  When he comes back, he has a list of questions I have to answer about myself personally.  Ok.  Yeah, I know the amount of my mortgage payment and yes, I can confirm that a previous employer was Honeywell and yes, I know what state issued my birth certificate.  Hmmm...now he gives me a question that has multiple correct answers, but he insists there can be only one.  He repeats the 4 choices...and again tells me I have to pick just one.  I have to pick the right area code for my phone number ending in 5532.  Really?  My cell phone number and my land line both end in 5532, but they have two different area codes...which are both on his stupid freaking list!

It takes me 10 minutes to get him to understand the problem.  In the meantime, he just keeps reading the digits to me and saying I must choose the area code for the number that ends in 5-5-3-2...like I'm the village idiot.  Seriously?  So I start reading full phone numbers back to him like he's the village idiot and the light bulb finally comes on.  Oh...you have two phone numbers that end in the same numbers but they have different area codes and both of those area codes are on the list?

(YES!  Here's your freaking sign!)

So he puts me on hold again and goes for help one more time.  When he comes back, he asks me which one I use the most.  Seriously?  You're going to make me guess the answer?  Can't I have another question?  I don't like this game...I am not having fun!

Okay, now it's clear...we're just gonna have me guess and hope I get it right.  What a process!  So I think hard and since I hate banks (shocker, right?), I figure I probably gave them the throwaway land line number.  So I guess the area code for the land line.

Ding...ding...ding...we have a winner.  Yeah.  Thank you, God!!! 

(Because this was truly an act of God.  Textbook case, actually -- bank employee following stupid process needs impossible information from woman who already has access to system that won't work as advertised.  Don't think that didn't require divine intervention!)

So now that I'm officially "ok", he goes to the personal information page and asks me what I want to change.  I tell him just make the home number match the work number.  He says, "Oh, that's all you needed?"

Yeah.

Barely after noon and already I need a drink!

And here's another brilliant piece of information I got today...the weather service just sent me an extreme heat warning as an emergency notification on my phone, complete with bells and sirens.  I'm in freaking Phoenix, Arizona in August...two feet from hell and miles from water.  The only place on this continent that's hotter is Death Valley.  Really?  I needed an emergency warning to tell me that?  Wonder if the folks out in Death Valley got that warning.

(Now there's shit that don't happen everyday.  Oh wait...yeah, it does.)

That's my story--idiotic and impossible--and I'm stickin' to it.  Hang on real tight now, cuz we're gonna go real, real fast!

Love ya,
Kayce

I'M HOPING THERE WILL BE COOKIES!

Hey ya’all.  Hope everyone is doing good today.  Things are great here and, as usual, Stupid Girl is at work in my neighborhood.  Remember her?  My alter ego who takes the blame for everything strange and unusual (translation: stupid) that I do?  Of course you do.  And have I got a doosie of a story for you this week! 

A friend of mine that I used to work with at the previous day job passed away this week and there were a lot of emails flying around giving information on his death and services.  There was a wrong address email and then the ensuing corrections, and I was getting information from multiple sources.  Some emails were more informative than others, some less.  LOL  Unfortunately, I can’t blame the emails for what happened…because I did have the correct address AND the correct date in one of those messages. 

So…here’s what happened.  I get up, get dressed, and head to the funeral.  All is going well.  I’m right on time, with just a few minutes to spare.  So I will be able to catch up with my old friends before the services.

Excellent!

I arrive and get a good parking spot.  It is impressive how many people have turned out for Jim’s funeral and I am happy for his family.  I enter and right inside the door, a sweet lady greets me with a handshake and a big smile. 

She asks if I am family.

I say, “No.  I used to work with Jim at Honeywell.”

A strange look crosses her face and she nods and says, “Oh, how wonderful.  Well, please go on in and have a seat.”

Oh-kay.

So I go through a line of greeters, shaking hands and introducing myself as a friend who used to work with Jim.  Not a single person questions this.  They all nod and smile and welcome me warmly.

I sign in at the table where the little book is and find a seat at the back, wondering at the fact that I don’t recognize anyone.  Certainly out of all these people, there would be one person we used to work with that I know.  What about the friends who forwarded me the note?  But there are quite a few people there, so I guess it’s not surprising that I can’t find them.

So I sit back to enjoy the slide show that is playing.  Strange…I don’t see Jim in any of the pictures.  All I see is some old woman.  Then they flash a slide with her name…Ida Mae…and her birth and death dates.

Huh?

Strange…she died about the same time as Jim.

Okay, I’m a little slow at times, but not completely oblivious.  So I get up and slip back to the sign-in desk and ask the woman, “Excuse me.  Whose funeral is this?”

She looks at me like I just beamed down from The Enterprise and says, “It’s Ida Mae’s.”

Shit!

“Oh.  Really?”  I smile and never skip a beat as I say, “I must be in the wrong place.  I’m looking for Jim’s funeral.”

She nods and leans back (away from me) as she points to a man at the door and says, “You should talk to him.  He will know where your friend is.”

“Thank you.”  I smile and head for the guy at the door.

“Excuse me, sir.  The woman at the sign-in table said I should ask you.  I’m looking for my friend Jim’s funeral.  Can you direct me to the right place?”

His eyebrows raise so high they are almost buried in his hairline.  “Uh, I’m sorry.  Jim’s funeral is next Friday.”

Shit!

I nod and give him my best oh-crap look.  “Ah, that explains it.  I thought it was today.”

He shakes his head and looks like he’s trying to assess my mental state.  “They tried to schedule the services for today, but we were already booked.  So we had to slide it to next week.”

I smile and nod and thank him for the information as I stand up straight and try to walk out the door looking like I know what the hell I am doing.

Seriously?

I show up at the wrong funeral?

Who does that?

Stupid Girl, that’s who!!!!!

So I get in my truck and waste no time pulling out of the parking lot before the little men with the white jackets show up.

Two miles down the road, I get a call on my cell phone.  It’s my friend Jan.  She sounds confused.  “Hi.  How are you?”

I smile.  “I’m fine.  Are you at Ida Mae’s?”

“Yes.  Where the heck are you?  Am I the only one who got the wrong day?”

I laugh.  “I’m 2 miles down the road.  I just left Ida’s.  Why don’t I come back and get you and we can have lunch.”

So…I make a u-turn and head back to the church.

In the meantime, I put in a call to my friend Pam…the one who sent me the email information.  She doesn’t answer, so I leave a message.  “Hi Pam.  This is Lori.  Are you going to the funeral today or next week?  I decided to go today.  Ida Mae looks great, but Jim won’t be there until next week.  Call me.”

The thing that really pisses me off about all of this…I missed the cookie table.  Turns out, my friend Jan did exactly the same thing I did…she told everyone she worked with Jim at Honeywell…and, again, no one caught on.  She gets all the way inside, realizes she’s at the wrong funeral, and goes back out.  But on the way out, she spots the cookie table and asks, “Do you think Ida would mind if I took a cookie?”

Shit!

How the hell did I miss the cookie table?

HERE’S YOUR SIGN………..

Imagine how tickled they will be to see me and Jan back there again next week.  Is it possible to make money being a professional funeral-goer?


I'm hoping there will be cookies.




Update to the story:


I showed up again the following Friday.  This time my friend Jan couldn't make it.  So I not only grabbed a cookie for myself, but I mailed one to Jan.  Hope she liked it.  :)


There was also a very cute moment that occurred as we were waiting for the services to begin that I must share with you.  Now, keep in mind that there were 6 or 7 of us sitting together in the pews and we all worked together in the IT department at Honeywell (with Jim).  Some of us were computer programmers, some were systems programmers...but we were all lifelong computer professionals who are now retired.


A man who sat in front of us turned around to introduce himself and find out who we were.   We told him we worked with Jim at Honeywell, so he smiled and asked, "Oh, then you all know computers?"  To a man, every one of us shook our heads and answered "No," in unison.


Hope no one at Honeywell sees this and wonders what the hell they were paying us for all those years.  LOL

                  To my friend Jim...Rest In Peace, my friend.

That's my story, sad and silly, and I'm stickin' to it.  Hang on tight

now 'cuz we're gonna go real, real fast!

Love ya,

Kayce