I have blatantly misunderstood what the term "Customer Service" means. Apparently the true meaning is: you are the customer and you must service yourself.
I was lucky enough to be blessed with nice teeth (and a really good Orthodontist), so today as I pulled around the corner in the drive thru and saw a super friendly Customer Service representative with really bad teeth I thought to myself - does that hurt as bad as it looks?
I am amazed how smart, conscientious parents still let their children con their way into a trip to the germfactorynastypizzatrailertrashhangoutgreasynevergettinthatsmelloutofyourclothes joint for kids birthdays. You know the one? Yeah, Fad, the one you got sucked into last night! By the way, now that I know that "it" has a name, I believe I am going to commence fasting.
I will never understand why, every day I have to remind the small people in my house that the floor is not the trash can, papers do not get tossed in the air and left to lay where they land, and shoes do not get lined up on my grandmothers antique oriental rug.
And last but not least, can someone explain why my heating bill is outrageously high, my fireplace is always burning, I have a space heater set to high in my office, I am wearing 3,000 layers and a fleece blanket, yet I cannot seem to warm up?
As I type this comment, I already have the chills, and the is on it's final legs, so when it's completely down here soon, the house will become even colder, allowing me to spend the remaining hours until I go to bed saying what I say every night, which is "Gah! I'm sooooo cooooold!" while shivering under a blanket. I dread the utility bill!
ReplyDeleteHappily (I hope!) I may be done with that pizza joint for awhile. So far, no birthday invites have included it, and after I left there feeling sick, I hope I can use my post traumatic stress reaction to the place to get out of any future trips!
Ha...yeah, like that's likely to happen!
it's the cold that gets in the bones -- the worst kind, she types while wearing a fleece indoors.
ReplyDeleteI think the dropping things and ignoring them thing is genetic. At least it seems to be over here at my house. It also seems to be a gender-specific trait, but I'll stop short of saying anything particularly unflattering about the male of the species.
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