





top {c/o langford market}, blazer {forever21}, shorts {old navy}, shoes {tory burch}, watch {michael kors}
On my lunch yesterday I decided to run a few errands, one of which was to return my cable box and internet router to the cable company. I stood in line with about ten other people, all of whom were hugging their own cable boxes with shopping bags filled with routers and cables. The line is long and annoying sure, but what other choice did I have?
Scenario 1:
Mr. Businessman [who had previously cut me off in the parking lot with his shiny car] walked in with his equipment to return and vocally sighs a bunch of profanities and marches right up to the customer service guy [who was clearly with another customer] and shouts “I already cancelled my service do I really need to wait in this ridiculous line?!??” [The line is now about five people] The customer service guy refers him to the line [naturally]. I mean what do you think we are all doing in this line buddy? Why do you get a free pass to the front of the line? So then he shouts “alright then I guess you’ll never get your router!!” and leaves. Good one. Now they’ll fine you and you’ll get to yell at them some more and feel really good about how powerful you are because you won’t wait five minutes in a line.
Scenario 2:
You know the person in line that always has to turn around and say something snarky about the line? That lady was in front of me. She turns around and rolls her eyes saying “you’d think for how much they charge they’d have more people at the windows to help us!” I smiled and nodded, and then it was her turn at the window. She was sure to take her sweet precious time during her turn too. All she needed to do was upgrade her box to an HD receiver. A simple trade. Instead she asks the guy what each cable is for, explains she has no idea what HDMI is, asks how large the TV on the wall is, and goes on and on about how her husband is the one in charge of electronics [so then why are you here?] The customer service guy asks for her account number. She doesn’t know it. He then asks for her phone number to look it up. She isn’t sure which phone is associated with the account [again blaming her husband]. He then asks for the last four digits of her social. She not only doesn’t know this little number which was definitely assigned to her over 50 years ago. So she proceeds to .. wait for it.. dig for her social security card in her bag. I mean it’s bad enough that you actually carry it with you [hello identity theft], but how is it you still posses your original card and you have yet to take the time to memorize it? Or at LEAST the last four numbers which are usually asked of you on a monthly basis, at least. The digging went on for another ten minutes, and then it was finally my turn. How can someone who had just complained about the long line, take so long during their turn? Maybe that’s why she was complaining because she knew they’d need backup once she was up.
Anyway, how was your lunch?
