Mayhem at the Mall
By GMikeG | May 9, 2008
I hate to shop and I really, really hate to shop at the mall. For me a trip to the mall is a clear sign of desperation indicating that I had put off shopping for the item until the last minute. I try to resist the false societal pressures of buying presents for holiday’s conceived by some marketing genius. But in the end the pressure is insurmountable and I’m forced to acquiesce. One such holiday is Mother’s Day. Now I think that all children should make nice cards with crayons and macaroni designs glued to paper plates for their Mothers. But that’s it; it’s the love and the thought that counts. How did husbands get roped into springing for yet another present for their wife on Mother’s Day? I’ll tell you how, it was some Jewelry Store Marketing executive that started with these commercials, showing the perfect family and the loving husband and the cute children. They are gathered around a MILF of a mother and are opening the presents the kid’s made for Mom, you know the macaroni dish and the home made cards. Then, unexpectedly, Dad surprises Mom with a $1,000 dollar diamond necklace and she gives him a look that says yes, he’s her man and yes, you will be getting some tonight.
So I waited until the last minute to buy my wife a Mother’s Day present and I threw myself at the mercy of the mall. I had spotted a pair of earrings in a store circular that had been mailed to my home. They were originally priced at $400 dollars, on sale, just for Mother’s Day, to $150 dollars. Fist of all how would most children afford a $400 dollar piece of jewelry for Mother’s Day? They can’t even afford macaroni for the stupid plate design. Clearly this is indented to put pressure on us Dads but I had resigned myself to grab this bargain. I ran into the store and headed straight to the jewelry counter, unfortunately, it was mobbed. Apparently the regular jewelry person was on lunch break and no one seemed to be filling in for her. A swarm of customers were trying in vain to get the attention of anyone with a store badge on. I snagged a store supervisor who tried to walk by me and I asked for help. Immediately, three other customers came over to see if they could get waited on as well. She explained that this wasn’t her department but she would send someone over. Eventually a clerk did come, but she quickly scanned the glass case of jewelry and announced that they didn’t have the earrings that I was looking for. I asked “Can you look under the counter? It’s an advertised special and you should have them”.
After a cursory glance she said that they weren’t there either but if I wanted to wait until the regular clerk got back she was sure that she would be happy to assist me. The crowd was turning into a mob and I decided to see if another store had similar earrings.
I couldn’t find anything similar to the ones advertised and certainly nothing close in price. So hoping that the crowd had thinned and the regular clerk was back, I headed back to the original store. The crowd had thinned; I assumed from frustration. I asked the clerk if she would please call another store to locate a pair of earrings for me. She informed me that they didn’t provide that service on busy days but I could call the 800 number on the back of the flier. By this point I had had it and walked out to my car, mumbling to myself.
I called the number and waited the obligatory five minutes for the pleasure of speaking to a live representative. I told her my story and she proceeded to ask which item I was interested in ordering. I said “Hold it, I was told you would try to locate a store in the area that has a pair of earrings for me and you’re taking an order?”
She said she it was her job to take orders and it would cost $18 dollars for delivery and it would take ten to fourteen days to get the earrings. I explained I was directed to call this number for assistance and she said “That’s not right, I would complain to the store manager.”
I went back into the store and found the smiling man, walking around in the suit, with the badge that said “Store Manager”. He looked just like his picture in the foyer. He apologized for the inconvenience and assigned someone to assist me. You should have seen all the helpful clerks who appeared out of no where politely assisting customers in front of the manager.
The now attentive clerk printed out a listing of all the stores that had the earrings in stock. She said “Well it says we have a pair here but you can never trust this information when it is less than two items.”
I wasn’t surprised that they didn’t have any in stock because I had already been assured by three other clerks that they didn’t have them. What shocked me was the fact that they ran an ad and circulated it to untold thousands of households and had only stocked one pair of earrings. Everyone sucked into the store by the low priced come on would be forced to make another, more expensive selection. Can you say bait and switch? As we were discussing which store in the tri-state area I could go to next to try and find a pair of the advertised earrings I stopped in mid-sentence and stared in disbelief. The earrings in question were right there in the glass counter we were leaning on. She verified that they were the correct ones but informed me that I couldn’t get the sale price until tomorrow. I told her I was disappointed in the service I had received to this point and that I had 45 minutes invested in these earrings. I stared at her intently and said “If you think I’m leaving without these earrings I promise you I will start screaming and I won’t stop until Father’s Day”. In consideration for all I had been through, she kindly allowed me to purchase the earrings at the sales price and wished me a happy Mother’s Day. You have got to be freak’n kidding me!
Topics: Cube Stories | No Comments »
Cell Phone Rip Off or LDI my ass!
By GMikeG | April 2, 2008
You gotta love the Cell phone Companies. It’s not enough that we have some how acquiesced to paying hundreds of dollars a month for cell phone service. No they have to rip you off on the equipment as well. Average Cell phones cost hundreds of dollars and the top of the line models can cost $600 or $700 hundred. I was held hostage by my service provider when I upgraded my old phones for the “free” upgrade phones; the ransom, a 2 year contract that costs a $175 dollars to get out of.
So now I have these phones and of course they are starting to fail. Calling the service department at these companies is always an international smorgasbord. You may get a customer service representative from India or Jamaica “mon” or who knows where else from. But they all have been trained to trick you into admitting that the phone has sustained water damage and therefore voiding the warranty.
I was just forced to go through a “diagnostic” over the phone with one of these trained interrogators. This genius happened to be Jamaican which at first was amusing then quickly became maddening. I pictured him lighting up a huge spliff and winking at his friends as the interrogation began. He was trying to trick me into finding a Liquid Damage Indicator (LDI), when none was present. It felt like I was getting water boarded.
“Look carefully now mon, do you see a red dot anywhere.”
The space I’m inspecting is under the battery and is approximately 1 square inch. You don’t have to be Fucking Albert Einstein to thoroughly examine the space at a glance and determine that there is no red dot.
“No, no red dot.”
“Are you sure mon? It could be white; do you see a white dot mon?”
“No, no white dot.”
“Sometimes it’s hard to see mon; the plastic case can be white and makes it hard to see a white dot mon.”
“No white dot.”
“Sometimes its pink or orange, do you see an orange dot mon.”
Now I’m sure I hear him inhaling on his bong, but I’m still forced to play the game. I naively was unaware of this whole LDI scam and honestly thought that he was looking for some sort of diagnostic label.
“Let me check the specifications on your phone mon. I need to find out exactly where the red dot is located. Can you hold for 5 minutes mon?”
5 minutes, hmmm, plenty of time to roll another spliff.
“I’ll hold”.
10 minutes later
“Do you see 2 screws on the back of the phone mon?”
“Yes.”
“Do you see any dots there mon?”
After 20 more minutes of this inane conversation I actually felt like I was about to drown in stupidity. He agreed to check with his supervisor to see if he would allow me to send my phone in for a warranty repair.
Why should they waste ½ hour of my time trying to get me to admit I do or do not in fact see a dot? These idiots don’t get it. If I send the phone in and they see the red dot, then they charge me. If they don’t see it then their piece of crap phone needs to be repaired. And you don’t even get a new phone; you get a refurbished piece of shit that someone else returned. And there is no extension on the warranty, so you’re stuck for the rest of your contract with a defective phone.
So caveat emptor. Do not ever, ever admit that you see any color dot on your cell phone when you are forced to participate in the telephone diagnostic I fondly refer to as “How fucking stupid do you think I am, mon“?
Just for your edification, here is what a red dot would look like if the LDI was exposed to water. Think you could find it without looking at the specifications?
Topics: General Rage | 1 Comment »
Biography
By CubePirates | February 29, 2008
While creating a proposal for a small client, I asked one of my business partners to provide a biography. I received the following…
Him: He is known for being shady, sly and cunning, and will find a way to take your money and make you feel good about it
Him: with 12 years experience as a scumbag
Him: including a history of money laundering
Him: he brings with him the confidence that he will make you his bitch
After yelling at him to give me a real bio, I received this…
Him: He has no actual training or formal education in marketing at all. Working for the ghetto company he does, he was able to wiggle his way into getting his own office and a position as director of marketing through intimidation and veiled allegories that seemed to confuse, if not threaten his high school educated, mafioso bosses.
Him: His degree is actually in recording engineering with has nothing to do with marketing
Topics: Cube Stories | No Comments »
Attack of the Killer Snow Plow
By GMikeG | December 20, 2007
What are you, Freak’n kidding me!
It was me or the Plow, one of us was going down. I could tell by the sleep deprived glaze in the plow driver’s eyes that he was intent on burying me alive in a ten foot wave of snow. As with all life or death situations time slows down. It became crystal clear to me the instant before I was to be buried alive that I needed to escape the attack of the behemoth, Killer Snow Plow.
I was pushing my brand new craftsman snow plow up the side walk, proudly clearing the way when I heard the unmistakable rumble of the death dealer, the towns largest, most fearsome snow plow. I looked up in time to see a wave of snow ten feet high, a veritable tsunami, heading my way. I jumped back from my snow blower realizing that my miniscule 7.5 HP Techumsa powered snow blower with the sweet joy stick controller for the exit chute was no match for the Killer Snow Plow. I was pined between the stone wall going up my walk way and the mail box. I had no where to go but up. I was forced to abandon my brand new blower and jump over the wall. I was shaken. The adrenaline still pumped through my veins as the killer plow passed by. I could clearly see the overpaid, drunkard of a town employee with the sleep deprived gaze laughing hysterically, maniacally. His accomplice, Igor, was in the passenger seat yelling something unintelligible from behind his window and shaking his fist at me.
As the death dealer rumbled down the road I jumped into the middle of the street swearing like a sailor, shaking my fist back at Igor, but to no avail.
I called the Street Department to complain but the supervisor could not stop laughing. I heard him call to someone in the back ground “Looks like Igor got another one, he’s in the lead now!”
That wasn’t very satisfying so I called the police. Three hours later, they sent two officers in an SUV that they had confiscated from some drug dealer pimp. After I described the situation the officer summarized the situation for me as he saw it,
“So let me get this straight, you were blowing your snow out onto the town street and then you threatened and verbally assaulted a town employee as he attempted to make our streets safe for women and children?”
I quietly said never mind and made an on the spot contribution to the Policemen’s Benevolent Society, I also thanked them for their quick response.
But this is not the end of it. I plan on writing a blistering letter to the Mayor’s office and ask for quick and immediate action. More to follow.
Topics: Cube Stories | No Comments »
‘Tis the Season
By The Dude | December 12, 2007
Cube Pirate: did i tell you about the christmas tree here?
The Dude: nope
The Dude: is it covered in flair?
Cube Pirate: ugh, the girls in my dept. bought a 2 ft christmas tree and put it on top of one of the filing cabinets
Cube Pirate: and i refused to make an ornament, so one of them printed out a picture of me dressed up as elvis, cut it out, and put it on the tree
The Dude: hahahahahaah
The Dude: that is not right Michael
Cube Pirate: people keep walking by asking “whos’ that”
Cube Pirate: bah
Cube Pirate: then when they tell them they start cracking up
Cube Pirate: hate.
Topics: Cube Stories | No Comments »
BAM, Jersey.
By CubePirates | December 6, 2007
The Dude has feared being sent to Jersey to support another division of his employer for months now, and it appears it is finally happening. Jersey. For a week. Ugh.
The Dude: Im working 11 hour days to get done in time for next week
The Dude: and suddenly the technical director for the entire program comes in and says “I need to ask you something…”
Cube Pirate: uh oh
The Dude: asodfjasiodfjaso;dfijasd
The Dude: just when you think the week can’t get worse
The Dude: BAM, Jersey
Topics: Cube Stories | No Comments »
Back to reality.
By The Dude | December 5, 2007
Cube Pirate on his recent return from a cruise:
Cube Pirate: staaaaarving
Cube Pirate: damn 24/7 food access
Cube Pirate: one night i had double escargot, a fillet mignion, and duck
Cube Pirate: with a caesar salad inbetween
Cube Pirate: and a brownie sunday and irish coffee after
The Dude: what did you have last night
Cube Pirate: doritos and a can of tuna
The Dude: hahahahahaha
Cube Pirate: hate.
The Dude: welcome home
Stay tuned as he continues to settle back into the comfortable repetitive rut that is his life.
Topics: Cube Stories | No Comments »
Poly-what?
By CubePirates | November 20, 2007
This is what happens when you spend 16 of the last 25 hours in a cube coding:
CubePirate: http://www.chron.com/disp/story.mpl/front/5306638.html
TheDude: when I first read that link I thought the word polymorphism was in it
TheDude: I’m loosing it
CubePirate: i don’t remember what that word means
CubePirate: it’s either from CS or that Religions class
TheDude: os;djfao;sifj;osdifja;osdifjso;difj
TheDude: haha I think its from both
TheDude: no thats polytheism
CubePirate: damnit, laughing in the cube
TheDude: unless your god is extensible
TheDude: I guess if Catholics believe that Jesus is descended from god, but they are one in the same
TheDude: that’s like a nested class that extends the superclass
TheDude: recursive God FTW!1!1
Topics: Cube Stories | 2 Comments »
Mission Accomplished
By CubePirates | October 31, 2007
I declare the end of combat operations with the night cleaners. My garbage can has now remained where I left it for over 2 weeks.
For those who don’t know what I’m talking about, please read: Freedom of Choice
Topics: Cube Stories | No Comments »
Home Depot Math Wizards
By CubePirates | October 18, 2007
Several weeks ago I moved into a new apartment. The apartment was unfurnished so I headed down to Home Depot to pick up some shades for the bedroom windows.
Before heading to Home Depot, I carefully measured the width and depth of the window frame and wrote down the dimensions. The window was 29 7/8ths inches wide, so I knew that I would need the shades custom cut to fit my window. I figured this would be a relatively quick process; little did I know what was in store for me.
After arriving at Home Depot, I wandered around until I found the area with shades. There I saw a friendly employee helping another customer look through every possible type of shade and curtain currently in stock. I quickly found the shades I wanted, and patiently waited by the shade cutting mechanism for the lady to finish up with the other customer. After 20 minutes of watching the other customer asking questions with no end in sight, I set out to find another employee who could quickly cut the shades for me.
I found an employee and they offered to page someone to the department, and instructed me to head back to where I was and wait. As I approached the shade area, I saw the same employee who was still helping the other customer, answer the phone for the page. Finally, after another 15 minutes of mindless banter between her and the customer, she was ready to cut my shades.
The following conversation ensued:
Cube Pirate: Can you please cut these to 29 7/8 inches?
Employee: Sure, let me just set this up.
(At which point I notice she is about to cut the shades to 29 2/8 inches.)
Cube Pirate: I really need those to be 29 7/8, 29 2/8 would be too short.
Employee: 29 7/8, right. That’s what I’m doing. Just under 29 1/2.
Cube Pirate: 29 7/8 is just under 30, please cut them just under 30.
Employee: Your math is wrong, it’s just under 29 1/2.
Cube Pirate: I know what I measured, please cut it to 29 7/8 which is just under 30 inches.
Employee: Fine. I’ll do what you say, but you’re still wrong.
Cube Pirate: Just cut the shades.
Employee: Ok. But you’re wrong. (She then cut the shades where I told her to.)
Needless to say, they fit perfectly.
Topics: General Rage | 1 Comment »
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