Why I'm Glad I Don't Date Anymore

Have you ever been really bored and you’re just sitting in front of your computer and you see an ad…..click here to find out true secrets of your personality….or something to that effect.

So you click here and fill out the form, even though you later realize it is a website for a dating service, because you are interested in the true secrets that will be revealed and you have way too much time to kill.

And you fill out the form that ends up taking way longer than the 20 minutes you were told it would take because you really have nothing better to do on a Friday night and you know that you will unsubscribe from the dating service before you are put into the candidate pool.

But you can’t unsubscribe before you get your true secret results so you go ahead and click submit knowing that you will unsubscribe after you read your results.

So you read your results (which were crap, by the way) and click unsubscribe but for some reason you are not unsubscribed and you keep getting emails from men that you are completely uninterested in because you are already taken and so you try to unsubscribe again…..and again….and again.

Until finally you get an email from………

Longandhard24.

Okay. I am not in the dating pool. Haven’t been for some time. But if I were…..

Dear Longandhard24,

I was very flattered to receive your email to see that you are interested in meeting me and pursuing a further relationship. However, I have some concerns about your screenname. Longandhard24, huh?

I really can’t imagine what this is pertaining to. I would get NiceSingleGuy or maybe Looking4Love, but Longandhard24? What exactly are you looking for in a woman? And what can I expect from a relationship with you?

Clearly you must have been attracted to the fact that I have 2 children because I am sure you are an upstanding guy who looks for stability and nurturing in a relationship.

I would assume that longandhard24 means that you are 24 years old and have had a long and hard life? Or maybe you have had 24 previous relationships that lasted a long time and were difficult? Or maybe you had to study long and hard to score 24 on an IQ test?

Whatever the case may be I will have to politely turn you down as I am really not interested, although I am sure you are a stimulating conversationalist.

Sincerely,

You've Got To Be Freakin' Kidding

Need a Job Anyone?

This is a real job posting:


_______________ is looking for nude models for the art school.

Requirements: women, sit still for 20 minutes at a time for a 3 hour class. Men: piercings are a plus and you should be able to hang upside down.

Just thought I would share that.

Two Words - Key Lock

I found my inspiration for this post from another's misfortune with cell phones and text messaging. Let's just say that if you are having an intimate conversation about your ex, and you have the propensity to sit on your cell phone and thereby inadvertantly speed dial your current girlfriend, you should probably learn to use key lock.

Let me review for those of you who haven't heard the story.

It was about 6 years ago, before I was married. I was enjoying single life. I had a boyfriend that I was crazy about. The only problem was I hated....I mean HATED his ex-girlfriend. It had been a sore spot between us since we had met.

When we had only been dating a few months he had actually broken up with me to go back to her. I was crushed. Eventually he came to his senses and came crawling back. Of course, I took him back.

(Now I know a lot of you are thinking, "Why? Why did you take him back, dummy?" We will go into that another day.)

So, I'm sitting in my apartment and my cell phone rings. It's my boyfriend. Yeah....I love it when he calls me. I answer the phone: "Hello."

Nothing.

Huh?

"HELLO!??"

Wait. I hear voices. It's my boyfriend. Who's he talking to?

I finally realize that he is driving in his truck and someone is with him, a guy he works with.

I start yelling, trying to get him to pick up the phone, "Hello!!!! Can you hear me???? HELLOOOOO!!!!"

I guess he must have called me by mistake. Oh well, guess I'll hang up. And then it happened. The word no girl wants to hear out of her boyfriends mouth when it's not pertaining to her......BLOW JOB.

uh...SAY WHAT????

This is what I heard:

Boyfriend: She gives the best blow jobs.

His Friend: Who does?

(Okay, should be my name coming up right? Wrong.)

Boyfriend: Amy.

His Friend: Reheaally????

Boyfriend: Oh yeah. She really knew how to use........

(I won't go on for the sake of my younger readers....or you perverts who may be doing God knows what.)

So. Now what? I'm pissed. I'm hurt. I'm angry. Did I mention pissed?

I want to yell at him. I want to kill him.

So I wait. I sit on the cell phone and listen to 30 more minutes of his conversation. I listen to him go through the drive through. I know what he's having for dinner (Boston Market - 1/4 White, mac and cheese and potaoes - if you were interested). He drives home. I hear him go through the guard gate. He walks up the stairs to his apartment. I hear his keys jingling as he unlocks the door.

As he walks through the door his house phone is ringing. I am sitting at home, the cell phone in one ear, the house phone in the other.

(Boyfriend picks up his house phone.)

Boyfriend: Hello?

Me: (Very calm, cold voice.) Pick up your cell phone and put it to your ear. Don't touch any buttons.

Boyfriend: What?

Me: JUST DO IT!

Boyfriend: Um....ok.

(Puts cell phone to his ear.)

Me: (Speaking through cell phone.) Can you hear me?

Boyfriend: (Nervously) Uh....yeah. How long have to been on?

Me: LONG ENOUGH TO KNOW THAT AMY GIVES A GOOD BLOW JOB!!!

I slam down the cell phone. (Well....as much as you can actually slam a cell phone. I did push the end button really hard though.)

Then I slam down the house phone.

Let this be a lesson.

Key Lock.

It's your friend.

Corporate Paranoia

As I’ve mentioned before I work in the IT industry. IT is an ever-changing environment. You have to constantly upgrade your skills or you will be left behind.

The changes also include staff. It seems normal for IT professionals to change jobs quite often. It is one of the few fields where several jobs with short tenure on a resume aren’t considered bad.

This also leads to paranoia among managers.

One of my co-workers was sick a few days ago. She had a migraine headache. Everyone assumed she was on a job interview. I knew this, but when I decided to tease her about it I was unaware of all the grief she had already received.

(Walking up to coworkers desk)

Me: So how was your job interview yesterday?

Co-worker: OHMIGOD!! If one more person asks me that I am going to totally freak out!

Me: Um….so I’m not the first person to mention this, huh?

Co-worker: No. Try about the sixth.

Me: Wow. I was just teasing, you know.

Co-worker: I know. I’m sorry. It’s just frustrating when you can’t even have a migraine without everyone thinking you are doing something shady.

Me: Would looking for another job actually be shady?

Co-worker: (Moment of realization) Well, no…..I guess not.

Me: But you’re made to feel like you would be doing something wrong if you went on a job interview. (My psychology degree rearing its ugly head).

Co-worker: Yeah. Always.

Me: You know, maybe the level of concern here about people going on job interviews is indicative of the actual corporate climate. (Using my big words). I mean, if the company felt like they were doing everything for their employees and giving them opportunities to advance in their careers then maybe they wouldn’t worry so much.

(FYI – This person was passed over for a promotion that she was totally qualified for and the position has been open for several months while the company spends time and money looking for the “perfect” fit.)

Co-worker: That’s true. I guess they are probably worried that I am unhappy.

Me: Aren’t you? You have to at least be frustrated with the current situation?

Co-worker: I am. Maybe we should do something to f*ck with them. What can we do?

(More FYI – This person ALWAYS dresses really casual at work and doesn’t wear makeup.)

Co-worker: I know. I’ll come in wearing a dress, heels and makeup. And then leave early for a “doctor’s appointment”.

Me: Yeah and I can let it slip that I hope you have good luck at your “j…uh, doctor’s appointment”.

Co-worker: That will be so funny.

(She thinks for a moment)

Co-worker: Do you think they’ll fire me?

Me: I wouldn’t think they could. Guess we’ll find out.

So this is really sad, huh? This isn’t an isolated incident either. Almost everyone who takes an unplanned day off is accused of going on a job interview. As soon as it gets around that they aren’t in, the rumors start flying:

Do you think they are going to leave? I know they haven’t been happy. Maybe they just want more money. Did you hear about the fight they had with their manager?

This isn’t unnoticed by management either. It is an epidemic that is running rampant in our office.

So here’s my take on it:

If everyone appears so unhappy that management has to be utterly paranoid every time someone takes a day of… why don’t they do something about it?

How much would it take to make employees happy? How much effort would you have to expend to sit down with a direct report and discuss career goals and opportunities? How much money would be saved by promoting from within and recruiting entry-level candidates versus spending an obscene amount of money on headhunters for high-level workers?

I don’t know. Doesn’t make much sense to me. But I’m only the Master’s level educated secretary. What do I know?

*Yes, I am aware that my bitterness and self-pity are showing - deal with it!

The Benefits of a Good Education

I received a notice from my student loan company yesterday. Payments on my student loan begin next month. That wasn’t the bad news.

The bad news was that if I only make the minimum payment (which I can barely afford) I won’t have the loan paid off until 2030.

I will be 59.

I don’t know which is more depressing…… not having the loan paid off until then, or knowing that I am paying for an education that I am not even using.

When I started college I was idealistic and excited about all the possibilities before me. I received a bachelor’s degree in psychology and began a career as a substance abuse counselor. The pay sucked, but I was single and enjoyed my work.

As the years went by I got married and moved around quite a bit due to the fact that my husband is in the military. Moving every other year does nothing for a career. To put it plainly, my resume sucks. It sucks because it looks like I have no stability. It doesn’t matter to employers that my references are impeccable. They just look at the dates and pass.

I decided that I needed more options to make more money. I received a master’s degree last year in business. My specialization is training and development… a field that is growing by leaps and bounds.

I can’t get a job in my field.

At least not one that pays the bills.

The only thing I have been offered is entry level which pays less than I make as an assistant. (Which just happens to be a job which requires no degree at all.)

So, here I sit. I have a Master’s degree in business. This degree just happens to be equivalent to the degrees held by all the members of management where I work. Who all make 6 figures. Who all happen to be men. (Don’t know if that is relevant, just thought it was worth mentioning.)

I am frustrated…. frustrated with the lack of opportunities, frustrated with my past decisions, frustrated with being in debt, and definitely frustrated with the fact that I will be paying the damn student loan company for the next 25 years of my life.

So, if anyone out there is hiring, let me know.

Until then….how would you like your coffee?

Dubya Had Me At Hello

First let me say that this is not a political rant. While I have a preference for red and I am a registered Republican…..this post has nothing to do with politics.

I have a crush on the president.

That’s right, George W., this one’s for you.

I was raised in a political family. My father was an elected official and I thought nothing of the fact that he was on the nightly news more nights than not. I guess maybe that’s why I view individuals in those types of positions of power….well….sexy.

(Is this somehow Freudian and gross? Not sure.)

I had the same high school crushes as other girls. I liked Bono and Simon LeBon and all the other MTV rock star wannabe’s. (Yes, it was the 80's.) But what really got my blood pumping was a sexy politician.

George W.’s not the first. I had a father crush on Reagan. I grew up loving that man. When the news broke in with the special report that he had died I actually started to sob. Not sure where those emotions came from, but it was some place deep. It was a little disconcerting, too. Oh well, guess I am a little strange.

But back to the subject of George W…..

See there are levels of crushes, Mr. Secret Service Man who is now reading this to determine if I am a threat to national security, and this one is purely innocent.

Let me explain:

First take a look at this graph. I have color-colded it similar to the Terror Alert system for simplicity.



(Whoa! That came out really big! Anywhoo.....)

Not sure why, but when George W. gets up to talk I am enthralled. I actually kind of like the verbal slip-ups and funny terms like “evil-doers”. I find them endearing.

My more liberal friends don't seem to understand. Most conversations go a little something like this:

(George W. comes on TV)

Me: (Big sigh and wistful look) I love him.

Liberal Friend: What??? The president?

Me: Yep. I love him.

Liberal Friend: Why? He's so ignorant.

Me: But I love the man he is. And the man I know he can be.

Liberal Friend: Isn't that from Jerry Maguire?

Me: Ummm......yeah. I don't know. I just want to hang out with him.

Liberal Friend: But he isn't even good looking.

Me: It's not sexual. It's more like puppy dogs and bunnies.

Liberal Friend: You are a freak.

Me: I know. I just love him.

****

See, totally innocent.

So, Mr. President, if you are reading this.... I would really like to buy you a beer.

Really. You can pick the place. And if you don't feel like going out I can come to the White House.

Just let me know. Whatever.

Miscellaneous

Here are a few things I have realized in the past few days.

1. Apparently there is bathroom etiquette at work. I did not know (but was informed this morning) that if you are already in the stall you can address others who walk in, but if you walk in you should not address those already in the stalls. I assume this rule was set due to the possible inability to respond. Not really sure.

2. I think Australians dislike the letter "z". I'm looking to you Andy for this one. (Of course my being an ethnocentric American may already be the answer.)

3. Everyone breaks the acceptable use policy for the internet at work.

4. You get a lot of attention if you don't realize the button on your blouse is undone and your entire bra is hanging out as you drive through the guard gate of a military base. (Learned this one first hand, my friends.)

5. As soon as you say the words, "It will be ok as long as ________ doesn't happen." That exact thing will happen. (This works for bosses finding out you're a slacker, cars breaking down, and incliment weather.)

6. It is probably a good idea to go straight to the lunchroom when you are carrying a banana. Taking a bathroom break (even thought the bathroom is on the way) leaves way too much explaining to do when your male coworkers see you walk out of the bathroom with a banana in your hand (yes...this one was me too.)

Who says you don't learn anything new?

Big Brother is Watching

I'm sitting at my desk when W comes up.

"Is lunchbox here today?" That's the pet name we have for one of our coworkers. He's always eating.

"No. He's at a conference."

"Great. I can talk about him then."

"That's not very nice, W" I say.

(Like I have any room to talk).

So the conversation goes on. Eventually the topic moves on to the internet. W mentions a message board he visited, at home of course, because doing things like that at work is against our acceptable use policy.

(Hmmm......what about blogging?)

"I swear two of our old employees were talking about proprietary information."

"Are you sure?" I said.

"Yeah, there was just too much in common with what goes on here. The guy even mentioned he got fired. I think I know who it is."

"Why'd he get fired?"

"He was downloading porn."

Now I don't have a filter for things like this, so immediately out of my mouth comes.....

"Oh I just download all my porn at home."

(What the f.....???? Where did that come from???!!!)

Laughing, W says, "That's good because we just installed our new tracking software so everything you do on the internet is logged."

Me acting nonchalant, "REeeahhhlllyyyy?"

"Oh yeah, any incident of inappropriate use is flagged and reviewed."

"Who reviews it?" I ask nervously.

"Lunchbox."

Well, let me just say halleluiah and praise the Lord! Lunchbox is my buddy and he's gettin' a cake tomorrow.

That's all I have to say.

Calling Old Friends....

It has come to my attention, that many people that I have not talked to (but have definitely thought about) in many years are reading this blog. I hope to hear from you via comment here or email. In order to start the dialouge I have a few things to say.

Lee: Thanks for getting me home safe that night from Gator's. I apologize for falling down about 86 times and laughing every time you tried to pick me up. You are a true gentleman.

Magda: Thanks for being so much fun. Sorry about almost getting you arrested in Holiday Park, but boy it sure gave us a story to tell.

Ali: I'll do Key West with you anytime, baby. I'd even push down on my knees.

Shannon: I'm glad we are over the "fever". Let's be secure in our femininity together again sometime.

Steve: Thanks for the plunger. Your unique gift giving style definitely compliments your sense of humor.

Ashley: Tell Dale Jr. I said hi and stay off ladders will ya?

Steph: California is just too far away. You really must visit your Godson.

Tom: Let's just say I'm glad I wear a belt and we'll leave it at that.

Anyone I missed? Let me know and I will make you famous! (Well at least among the 10 people who read this.)

Now Starring as "Total Bitch"....

So I was extremely rude to Jay today. I couldn't help it. He came into my cube, hovering, and proceeded to ask me why one of his meetings wasn't on his calendar. (Before you think "so what" let me say that this happens about 3 times a week.) I mean really, I don't know. I send you the damn invite. You accept. If it doesn't get on your calendar not my problem, right?

Well apparently I am a bitch. Hmmm.....? Here's the replay:

Jay: (hovering) Hey, Sherri. When is the staff meeting? It's not on my calendar.

Me: (rolling eyes and heaving a big sigh) I sent you the invite.... I don't know why this keeps happening.

Jay: Umm. I don't think I have this one.

Me: (smartass tone) I sent you the invite.

Jay: I really don't have it on my calendar.

Me: (turning to the computer) Here. Let me show you. (Opening the calendar invite) See......(noticing that I didn't invite him to this meeting) .....your.... not.... on there.

(Okay, now I'm the asshole. I need to salvage this quickly. While I don't really like Jay, I also don't want to be a total jerk. I do have to work with him. So now I must maneuver to remove my foot from my mouth as painlessly as possible.)

Me: (feigning stupidity) Oh...I thought you meant the other meeting! Of course, you aren't on this one.

Jay: Yeah, I meant this one. I guess maybe I said the wrong thing. It's Monday, you know.

(Okay, good. Now I've got him thinking my being a total bitch is his fault.)

Me: No problem. (Fake smile) Let me know if you need anything else.

Pretty bad, huh? I rag on other people all the time and here I am the total jerk. Oh well, I guess we all get to play that role sometimes.

_____________________

P.S. Mom, forgive my potty mouth. It's been a rough day! :P

(Three hours later)

P.P.S. (or P.S.S.?) UPDATE - Jay just came by and I was Sooooooo nice to him. Trying to repent, powers that be! Okay? Good Karma my way...thanks.

P.P.P.S. For those of you reading this and thinking that I really didn't act that bad - you have not experienced my sarcasm and attitude first hand. Just trust me when I say it is truly a sight to behold. (And yes, it is a personal project I am working on. Sort of. Maybe.)

Why Boredom is Dangerous

I like my job. Really I do. And I like having some time to goof off. Unfortunately, when my boss travels so does my initiative. Right out the door. I have nothing to do and no motivation to do anything productive.

This is what I did at work today:

1. Took 42 pictures of myself with my work camera phone trying to get just the right look and angle only to find out that I can't send pictures with my work camera phone. (So why did they give me a camera phone? I suspect to annoy me because I can't use it!)

2. Googled myself and read up on people with the same name as me. Apparently one of my alter egos is a high school basketball star and the other is a high level HR executive. (Which is what I have a master's degree in, which is also the field I couldn't get a job in, which pisses me off, and in turn is extrememly sad since she is doing high level HR stuff at work and I am...well...googling myself. Hmmm....does that sound kinda dirty?)

3. Checked my personal email 6 times to see if I had any spam mail. At least it would be something to do.

4. Mapquested my house to Las Vegas, New York, San Francisco and Boston just to see how long it would take to get there.

5. Found out that I would have to play frisbee for an hour to burn off a snickers bar. (I don't know if that is truly accurate....I mean what kind of frisbee are we talking here? Must be like x-games frisbee or something.)

6. Held up my end of 3 IM conversations with friends across the country. At least I am contributing to the demise of someone else's career besides my own!

7. Talked to my mom long distance. Twice.

8. Decided that if my boss reads this I will probably get fired.

9. Read up on all my favorite blogs and wondered how the hell they get upwards of 50 comments on some of their posts. Really, I have no clue. How do you do that.....and why does it give me an inferiority complex?

10. Wrote this stupid post.

Well, there you have it. My day in a nutshell.

Is That a Baby Joey in Your Pocket....or Are You Just Happy to See Me?

Isn't it funny how sometimes you think you look great, but in reality it's just not so. I guess it may have something to do with the fact that I get dressed at 5:30 in the morning.

If you have been following my blog you know that I am on the road to fitness. Yes, the journey to weight loss has begun. No, for those of you who don't know me, I am not a giant tub of lard. I feel the need to express that because, well, I have a fragile ego. (Not really, but I don't want to sound like the stuck up bitch that I am.) Also, someone told me that women who constantly talk about their weight online are usually fat. Hmmm......

Anywhoo...trying to get rid of the baby bulge has become an interesting adventure to say the least. Since I have lost about 12 pounds I pulled out a pair of pants and shirt that I haven't worn in quite a while. I put it on, looked in the mirror, felt pretty good about myself, and out the door I went.

Now let me preface the rest of this story by saying that apparently the mirror in my closet (that was there when we bought the house 2 months ago) is sadly..........defective. Women know the kind. These mirrors are also found in every department store with overpriced clothes. Oh, you look so good in the dressing room, but wait until you get home!

At the risk of TMI, I also need to share a little about where the 12 pounds I lost came from. In reminiscence of Cosmic Joke, I want to ask the powers that be......Why must the first 5 pounds I lose come from my boobs? I mean really? Can't a girl have one thing going for her?

(I have...had...great boobs, by the way. See the pic to the right....while it is a body double, you still get the idea!)

I know that the first 5 pounds came from my boobs because during the ride to work, the bra I put on this morning, that fit two weeks ago, became a puckered mess. When I looked in the mirror at work I actually looked like I had on a bra two sizes too big that was stuffed with apples. (Who remembers the Little House on the Prarie episode where Laura stuffed her bra with apples? Come on....out yourself....I can't be the only loser.)

And what is up with the joey pouch? I have lost in my hips, thighs and butt.....but I still have my little joey pouch. I thought that maybe I could use it to make a little money. I could rent it out to the zoo and carry around rejected joeys until they are old enough to fend for themselves. Kind of like the woman who nursed tiger cubs, but not as gross. (True story, by the way.)

So now I get to spend the whole day like this thanks to my defective mirror. Poofy bra and Joey pouch. That's Me. Happy Monday!

Oh well, at least I have great hair and perfect teeth! (And apparently, a solid ego.)

What Motivates You?

It's funny what motivates us. In college I took "Psychology of Motivation" hoping to find out what makes us tick. All I got was a semester full of hypothalmus, instinct and many boring lectures. My professor could learn a thing or two from my Weight Watchers leader.

Yes, I had another weigh in today. Thankfully, this week there was no psychotic break in sight. The topic was motivation. The leader, in her always interesting way, reviewed ways to stay on track when the boredom of salads and steamed veggies are getting you down.

So the leader stands in front of the group and confesses that she cheats sometimes. She says that what gets her back in line is a little off beat but seems to work.

Apparently, she is concerned that when she cheats she might die while the offending food is still in her stomach, and during the autopsy she will be cut open and everyone will know that she cheated.

I assume that scene would go something like this:

Coroner: So this is the Weight Watchers leader, huh?

Assistant: Yeah, damn shame.

Coroner: Hey, I wonder what she ate for lunch?

Assistant: Let's find out.

(Assistant cutting into abdominal cavity and stomach.)

Assistant: Oh my God! It's a scandal! There's ice cream and peanut butter in here!

Coroner: What????!!! I'm so disillusioned!

Now I don't know about you. But for some reason that doesn't motivate me to stay on my diet.

I do find it comforting though, that there are people out there more insane than me!

Q & A

From time to time someone will pose a question about the content of this blog. I thought it might be interesting to answer some of those questions here, in an open forum, to clarify any misconceptions you might have. Please feel free to comment or make suggestions.

1. Are the stories you post on this blog true?

Yes, every story posted on this blog is absolutely true. Only the names, various places, conversations, and some of the general content have been changed.

I have done this because:

A. Some of these stories are 15 years old and I was drunk during most of my 20's, so a lot of it is really unclear.

2. If the Post can make up facts, why can't I?

d. It would take entirely too much effort to do any research.

2. Are those your boobs? (Nice touch, by the way.)

No, those are not my boobs, although they are an amazing likeness. I thought that a body double would be most appropriate since the priviledge of seeing my boobs should be reserved for significant others, anyone who happens to be around me when I'm drunk, and total strangers at Mardi Gras.

3. From reading your posts it seems like you really dislike your job. Do you?

Actually, I love my job. The paychecks are great and the weekends are fantastic. The only drawbacks are the tasks they expect me to complete, the cube I sit in, and the stupid people around me. Oh yeah, the coffee is good here too.

Well, I hope that clarifies a few things for you. If there are any pressing issues that I have failed to cover please feel free to ask.

American Idol and the Hearing Impaired

I need some feedback to determine if people are absolutely stupid or if its just me.

Workplace discussions vary from topic to topic. Sometimes we actually talk about work, but most of the time the focus is on current events, news stories and television. Today, I had the pleasure of discussing one of America's hottest topics - American Idol.

Now, I enjoy a good singing competition as much as the next person, and I stress singing competition. Because that fact is what makes this so interesting.

A coworker of mine was upset that their favorite singer, Anthony Federov, was voted off in such an unfair manner and nothing was done about it. They were upset because the closed captioning that was displayed on television showed the wrong number to call in for. Instead of Anthony, the number for Carrie was displayed.

Sounds unfair, right? Let's go back to what they were so fired up about, closed captioning, as in "closed captioning for the hearing impaired". (Coincidentally, the numbers displayed by the show and given by the host were correct.)

Let me see if I understand this. They were upset because the hearing impaired can't get the right number to vote on a singing competition.

This may be completely politically incorrect, but just how many hearing impaired individuals vote for American Idol? I am wondering. Truthfully. I'm not even trying to be funny.

If you are hearing impaired and you do vote I want to hear from you. How do you determine who is the best? Do you just go by who looks the least stupid? Just curious.

Anyway, I gave my coworker my best "you are a complete idiot look" and walked away.

What Happens in Key West.....

It’s funny how you go a little crazy when you are on vacation. Kind of like the “What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas” slogan.

It is truly amazing. You will go completely crazy doing things you would never do as long as you just happen to be inhabiting a different locale.

This is one of those stories.

PreppyGirl and I loved Key West. There was no place we would rather be. So, one Memorial Day weekend, we packed up the cooler, got in the car and took the four hour drive to fun in the sun.

Now if you have ever been to Key West you already know that to get there by car you have to drive for several hours on a two lane highway. It’s literally just a strip of road with water on both sides. There is NOWHERE to stop and pee. (Please note the aforementioned cooler, which just happened to be filled with beer.)

The first sign that I was going crazy was that I peed into a cup and then dumped it out the window….repeatedly. I’m not proud of it, but in honor of telling the story correctly I will give full disclosure.

Upon arrival to our destination we were already well liquored up and both had difficulty walking. Within the first hour I had scraped my knee tripping over a tree root on the sidewalk. PreppyGirl ended up with a huge bruise on her ass from slipping down the stairs at our hotel. Although, on her behalf, she probably wasn’t as drunk as me and it had been raining.

I won’t continue to bore you with a play by play of the rest of the night. There are too many embarrassing moments to tell. I will just take you to the end. (To hell with full disclosure….I’m not sure what the statute of limitations is for some of my “offenses”.)

PreppyGirl and I were finishing our drunken crawl down Duval Street when we saw a sign painted on a building. It said “Upstairz” and had a crooked red arrow pointing up a flight of stairs attached to the side of the building.

“Want to check it out?” I slurred.

“Sure, I’m up for anything.” PreppyGirl responded.

We stumble up the stairs to find ourselves at the door of a bar. Well, a club really. Well, not so much a club as a “show bar”. Well, not so much that as a gentleman’s club. Well, not so much gentleman’s as a sleazy, full-nude, titty bar.

“Hmmm….want to go in?” I ask.

“Why not? We’re already here and I don’t know if I can make it down the stairs without falling.” PreppyGirl responds.

In we walk. Two girls. Living the wild life. Far away from people we know. Not a care in the world.

“So what do you think?” PreppyGirl asks after a while.

“It’s ok, but creepy, horny guys keep hitting on me. Let’s pretend we’re together so they’ll leave us alone.” I reply.

“Ok.”

PreppyGirl proceeds to take my hand as I lead her through the room. We stand several feet from the stage, watching the show. I put my arm around her to show that we are together to ward off any interested suitors. I am feeling sure of myself. Confident. Free. I turn when I hear……

“Sherri. PreppyGirl. What are you two doing here?”

Turning, we see two guys we know from home. Busted.

So, your thinking we should have been embarrassed, right? Ashamed by what we were doing?

Well, all I have to say is:

If you are in Key West visit Upstairz. While you’re there ask for Dallas. She puts on a hell of a show!

Network Crisis

I am sitting at my desk, enjoying a cup of coffee after a hectic morning when my phone rings. It's our IT Rep at the corporate office. He's sounds panicked and is obviously very agitated.

"The network is DOWN!" he screams, dramatically. "I have called F, B, M, N and T. I got voice mail on all of them. Where are they??? The network is DOOOWWWNNN!"

"Give me a moment and I will find someone that can help you."

(I put him on hold and head down the hall. I see M and B coming through the door.)

"Hey guys, corporate is on the phone. They've been trying to reach you. The network is down."

"We were fixing it. Should be good now." M says.

"Great. Thanks."

(I go back to the phone.) "You couldn't reach them because they were already working on the problem. The network should be up now."

"Oh, Okay. Let me check." (I hear him typing on his keyboard.)

" Yep, I can get to Ebay now. Thanks."

I hang up the phone shaking my head, and return to my now cold cup of coffee.

It's good to know we all have priorities!

Cosmic Joke

Do you ever have those days where you think your life is one big cosmic joke? That somewhere up there someone is going: Watch this guys. It’s hysterical. Look what I do to her next!

I look back on all the worst case scenarios that have come to fruition: Be careful on that trampoline, you’ll break something (broke arm); Don’t play football with the guys, you’ll break something (broke other arm).

Or how about bartending and catching a dart in the back of the leg? I look down and it’s still hanging there, quivering from the impact. Or in college when I went to the library to study for a final, fell asleep, and missed the exam? Or when I finally got my truck back after weeks of body work, only to get rear-ended on the way home?

Well, enough’s enough. Whoever is up there controlling me like a puppet….up yours! I refuse to amuse you anymore! I will fight back and thumb my nose at the powers that be.

This morning, though reportedly small, was my first success story. Sort of.

I was running late due to a bathroom scheduling conflict (or as I like to call it, my husband takes too damn long in the bathroom). Having only precious minutes to spare I go to the closet and pull out my outfit for the day, only to find…..

The collar on my shirt is creased wrong!!

WHAT!!! The HORROR!

Thinking quickly I run to the bathroom, throw water on it, and proceed to iron it on the bathroom counter with my already hot curling iron. I feel strong, free…..almost McGyveresque!

So, as I walked out of the house this morning, with a perfectly ironed collar, right on time, I looked to the sky…

Ha! I know what you tried to do and I won today! I won! Oh look, a birdie….

Splat! Crap. Literally.

The End.

Potty Mouth Charlie

As a parent I try to be a good example for my children. My son Charlie is a precocious 3 year old who unfortunately picks up as much bad as good.

This morning I was getting dressed when Charlie barged into my room. Standing with only my pants and bra on, I ask Charlie why he isn't downstairs getting ready for school.

"We're waiting on you, mom." Charlie says, hand on hip stamping his little foot.

"I'll be there in a minute, Charlie."

"But you're not dressed!" He replies indignantly.

"I will be there in a minute, Charlie!"

"Put your damn shirt on!" Charlie cries.

Now, this should bring out the concerned parent in me and I should adequately scold Charlie and tell him not to speak like this, right?

Why can I only laugh?

Admins are not Omniscient

Contrary to popular belief, just because you are someone's assistant and handle their calendar you don't always know where they are.

I work for a high level executive in a Fortune 500 company. I also provide part-time support for one other executive. I assist in scheduling meetings (although sometimes they will do this themselves) and arranging their calendars when there are conflicts. For some reason, everyone that works here thinks that I know where these two individuals are at every moment of every day.

There are two main culprits in this story. The first is Kay. Kay is usually overwhelmed and stressed. I don't think she gets much done. The next is Jay. Jay is just annoying.

This is approximately how the last 30 minutes of my day was spent:

Kay: (rushing into my cube, looking around wild-eyed, pointing to boss #2's office) Where is he?

Me: Let me check his calendar.

Kay: You don't know where he is?

Me: I need to check his calendar.

Kay: But he's not in his office.

Me: I know. I need to check his calendar to see where he is.

Kay: (pacing around my cube) But I really need him!

Me: (checking boss #2's calendar) He's in a meeting for the next hour then he has some free time.

(Okay, so Kay just stares at me. She's frozen in space. I can see white all the way around her irises. I'm uncomfortable. I start counting in my head. 1...2...3...4...5...How long is she going to stare?...6...7...8..9..10...okay I have to break the silence).

Me: You look scared.

Kay : (takes a deep breath) I just really need him and I thought you could help me.

Me: I told you where he is.

Kay: Fine. Whatever (walks away).

So, if that wasn't bad enough, two minutes later in walks Jay.

Jay: (pointing to boss #2's office) Do you know where he is?

Me: (this time I do!) Yes, he's in a meeting until 3.

Jay: (staring at me...then slowly begins talking like I'm stupid) Well, that's not convenient for us now is it?

Me: Umm...no...I guess not.

Jay: Do you know when he's free?

Me: Umm...yeah...at 3.

Jay: He should really be more available don't you think?

(I think you should schedule a meeting jackass, and not talk to me like I'm 4 years old!)

Me: Yeah. He really should.

(Jay walks away).

Okay, back to work. Nope. Not gonna happen. I walks "P" who I actually really like, but we're all allowed one dumb question every now and then.

P: (pointing to Boss #1's office) Is he available?

Me: (looking at the phone) No, he's on the phone.

P: Well, who's he talking to?

Me: I don't know.

P: Why don't you know? Don't you answer his phone?

Me: I do, but sometimes he actually picks it up and dials.

P: Oh.

Remember, just because we control their calendars, we cannot tell you where they are at all times. The next person that asks me where either one of them are...I swear I'm gonna tell them he's takin' a crap!

How I Became My Mother

In honor of Mother’s Day, I thought it would be fun to discuss the process that took me from party girl to becoming my mother.

Single until I was 29, I never thought that I would ever, emphasize ever, become like my mother. Now that I have two children I realize that this is an inevitable transformation that every woman who becomes a mother must face, regardless of how long they were childless.

Please follow along as I review 10 things I thought I would never say:

1. No, you cannot have cake for breakfast.

2. Because I’m the mommy, that’s why.

3. Because I said so.

4. Do not use your brother as a step.

5. Stop bouncing the ball off the dog’s head.

6. Do I need to go get your father?

7. Raisins don’t go in your nose!

8. I’ll give you some candy if you’ll just be quiet.

9. You can’t say that word. Only mommies and daddies can say that word.

10. Why is there poop in the tub?

Although, many people may have the chance to say, “why is there poop in the tub?”, if you say it in combination with the other nine you have quite definitely become your mother.

There was a time when my goal was to be the perfect mom, providing my children with quality time and never subjecting them to the horrors that my parents inflicted on me. Oh, the path of good intentions! While I do try, I have realized that candy bribes and cartoons have their place.

So, here’s to you Mom. I hope you have a great Mother’s Day. I know I will.

(The kids are downstairs eating cereal out of the box watching Tarzan.)

Weight Loss Can Induce a Psychotic Break

Those of you who read Milky Way Orgasm were introduced to my first experience at Weight Watchers. I am happy to report that I don't need to lose 100's of pounds like some. I am just pleasantly plump, which I attribute to the fact that I gave birth (probably the most commonly used excuse of overweight mothers).

Today is my meeting day and I am anxiously awaiting the weigh in. I know as of yesterday morning I was down 5 pounds for the week. (They keep telling me I should only lose 2 pounds a week, but who really wants to do that?)

I awake, still groggy and stumble to the scale in my pajamas. I know I have to be down another half pound, I was sooo strict yesterday. I step on the scale, steady my balance and wait for the number to appear. And....it's....WHAT????

Two and a half pounds up from yesterday! What the f...?

How is that even possible? I ate a salad and some cottage cheese yesterday. Why is this happening? Why didn't I weigh in yesterday? Fuck.

I strip off my pajamas and weigh in the buff. Should be good for a half a pound. Nothing. Still up. Crap.

Okay. I don't have to be there for two hours. What can I do? I must be retaining water. Hmmmm.....

OOOhhhh! I need to poop. Okay that's at least a half a pound. Okay, back on the scale. Nothing. Crap. Literally.

I'm bloated. I'll drink a bunch of water. That's what you do when you're retaining water, right? Flush your system.

So I drink 4 ginormous glasses of water. Oh gosh. Now I'm nauseus. Hmmm...wonder what I weigh now? Up another half...3 pounds in all now. Crap.

An hour has gone by and I've peed 6 times. Alright back on the scale. Ah...down a pound. Now only up two. Awesome. Progress.

Now I know by now some of you are thinking I am completely insane. And that might actually be the case, although it may have nothing to do with this incident. But, I can guarantee that there is some woman out there reading this right now laughing because she's done the exact same thing.

Where was I? Oh yeah, I drink two more glasses of water, pee three more times, weigh and am successfully down another pound. Awesome! More progress.

After my shower I obsessively weigh one more time. What???? Up a pound. Are the hair follicles on my body holding on to the water from the shower? Is this pound just going to evaporate away?

Finally, I give up and get dressed and weigh one more time before leaving. Only up one since yesterday, which is actually a loss of 4 pounds for the week, which is actually really good.

But like I said....weight loss can induce a psychotic break....and apparently I have had one.

Farts are Funny

I work with “A” who is a Buddhist, Zen-type girl. When she is stressed she gets acupuncture, drinks green tea and takes Chinese herbal supplements.

I, on the other hand, am NOT a Buddhist, Zen-type girl. For my stressful situations, there’s not much that a half a xanax and a Captain and Coke can’t cure.

A and I were discussing one of my many interesting life crises when she suggested yoga.

A: You should really go to yoga, Sherri. It is sooo relaxing.

Me: I don’t know. I don’t really think it’s for me.

A: No, trust me, it really is relaxing. The last time I went it was so relaxing that during Savasana (corpse pose) everyone was farting. And you know know what? Farts are funny. You’d probably like it.

Now I don’t know about you, but I agree that farts can be funny, however, subjecting myself to an hour of yoga just to sit in a room full of farting people really doesn’t sound that relaxing.

Guess I’ll just stick to Happy Hour.

The Search for Tommy Adams

From time to time I like to look back on my life and reminisce about the glory days. You know, when you were young and fearless and you just happened to do really, really stupid things? Well, this is one of those stories.

I am originally from South Florida and used to spend an exorborant amount of time in Ft. Lauderdale. Admittedly, most of that time was spent drinking in bars (underage) and hanging out with guys that would make my mother swoon (I can still remember her asking me if her son-in-law was going to be covered in tattoos).

One of my favorite hangouts was Gator's Croc and Roc. I was 19. There was a core group of friends that would get together most every weekend and pretty much drink ourselves silly. Gator's had this great tradition called "Croc Roc Cocktails". Basically, you put your back to the bar, leaned back while looking up and the bartender would come around and pour a bottle of peppermint schnapps into everyone's mouth until it was empty. While this was great fun, it tended to be messy and left one smelling of alcohol.

That night, after getting my portion of the "Croc Roc Cocktail", not failing to also soak my hair in peppermint schnapps, I decided that my friends HippyChick and PreppyGirl (you know who you are) and I were going to go for a ride. I had recently purchased a Toyota 4x4 truck and was ready to see what it could do.

For those of you from Ft. Lauderdale you will know of Holiday Park. For those of you not, let's just say it's pretty much within the city limits and not a secluded place to be breaking the law.

Anyway, upon arriving in said truck, reeking of alcohol, I decided to show off to my friends and do a little four-wheelin'. The rest of the night went something like this:

(Driving off of the road into the grass, downing several bushes and small trees)

PreppyGirl: What the hell are you doing?

Me: A little four-wheelin', baby!

HippyChick: Uh, Sherri....there are lights behind us.

Me: (confidently) Doesn't matter as long as they're not blue lights!

(Coincidentally at approximately the exact moment I uttered the word "lights", blue lights began to flash behind me.)

(The police pull me over and walk to the truck. I decide I will take the bull by the horns and address the officer first - remember I reek of alcohol!)

Me: I am so glad to see you!

Police Officer: Miss, do you realize you were driving through the park? You ran over several bushes back there.

Me: Yes sir, I do. I am really freaked out. Our friend Tommy Adams is really drunk and we were following him home. He just came in here and starting driving all crazy (waving my arms around on "crazy").

HippyChick: (not missing a beat) Yeah he's really drunk. He just took off and wouldn't let anyone drive him home.

PreppyGirl: (picking up on the story) You have to find him, we're really worried.

Police Officer: What is he driving?

Me: He's in a VW Bug.

HippyChick: A white one.

Police Officer: And his name again?

PreppyGirl: Tommy Adams.

Police Officer: (into radio) Yeah, can you look around for a white VW Bug? They say the driver is drunk and came in here.

Police Radio: (after a few minutes) I don't see anyone. He must be gone.

Police Officer: Well, ladies, it looks like your friend is gone. You should be more careful and have a good night.

Me: (not letting a good thing go) We're really worried. Can you please look for him?

HippyChick: Yeah, we're scared he might hurt someone.

Police Officer: Will do. We'll keep an eye out for him. You ladies have a good night and be careful.

Me: (still reeking of alcohol) Ummm....can you tell me how to get back to the road?

Now I don't know if he believed us or just thought we were cute, but the moral I learned is find a story and stick to it.

*I apologize to those of you involved if after all these years I confused the story....many years of drinkin' can do that to a girl!

How Technology Helps Us - Part Deux

Okay, so I've been posting a lot today, but this one couldn't wait. Just yesterday I posted How Technology Helps Us. Well, lo and behold, "T" strikes again.

I am sitting at my desk following a very unsatisfying lunch consisting of a can of soup,(please see Zen-like Moments), trying to field the 18 voice mails and 32 emails I have received in the last half hour, when I just feel someone watching me.

I look up and T is standing, once again inside my cube in my personal space, literally hovering over me.

Me: (startled and sliding back my chair) Oh, hi.

T: So I guess you read my email.

Me: Umm...no. I haven't gotten to it yet.

T: Oh well....(proceeds to verbally explain everything he typed in the email).

Me: Okay, sure. I'll take care of it.

T leaves. I look at my watch. It's 12:24. I open his email. It was sent at 12:21 and is literally a gazzilion lines long. Now, I do pride myself on being smart, but even I don't read that fast.

So, cyber-friends....what should I do? Any snappy comebacks that will put T in his place without getting me fired?

The suggestion box is now open.

My Low Self-Esteem Needs Validation

At the risk of sounding needy, I am soliciting your comments. That's right. I know you're out there and I know you are at least looking at the page...hey...stop looking at the boobs...continue reading.

Where were we? Anywhoo...I would love to hear what you have to say and find out who the heck is reading this thing, etc. Any feedback (minus nasty, snarky comments) will be appreciated.

Thanks :)

-S

Zen-like Moments

I am sure that everyone has a hectic morning routine. I mean who really likes to get up at 5am, jam contacts into your stinging, puffy eyes and commute through horrendous traffic with two screaming kids in a minivan. Unfortunately, I do it everyday.

However, I do have my zen moments...you know when you decide you are going to be a better, happier person and all it will take to complete this miraculous transformation is a little bit of organization. I will make my lunch for the next day, iron my clothes, pick out the kids clothes, have everything ready and waiting by the front door so that I can just grab it and be on my way. I will wake up 15 minutes earlier, not hit the snooze and feel refreshed because I went to bed at 9:00pm the night before.

For me, these zen moments are like dieting....they usually only last a day or two.

Please review the journey that took me from home to work this morning:

(Please note that I did not go to bed at the previously mentioned 9:00pm. Attempted slumber at 10:00pm only to go back to the computer and finally fall asleep at 12:30am.)

5:00am - Alarm rings, hit snooze

5:09am - Alarm rings, hit snooze

5:18am - Alarm rings, hit snooze

5:27am - Alarm rings, realize have hit snooze 3 times. Still have 1 hour 3 minutes before I have to leave.

5:30am - Jam contacts into previously mentioned stingy and puffy eyes and brush teeth.

5:32am - Get into shower. Realize am standing in two inches of cold dirty water left behind by husband because shower is clogged with my hair. Make note to self to unclog shower later.

5:35am - Go to other shower. Realize that there is no soap in other shower.

5:37am - Run back to original shower for soap, soaking hallway carpet and giving the neighbors a peep show from the upstairs windows.

5:45am - Begin makeup and hair routine. Realize need to hurry...only 45 minutes left

6:00am - Having bad hair day. Try 15 different ways to pull hair back only to leave it down as originally had it.

6:15am - Wake up 3 year old and 1 year old. Realize need to leave in 15 minutes. Still in bathrobe.

6:18am - 3 year old screams and wants to be carried downstairs. Refuses to use the bathroom.

6:25am - Finish wrestling 3 year old into clothes. Now wants to go to the bathroom. Start moving at frantic pace as have only 5 minutes left.

6:30am - Attempt to give now clothed 1 year old antibiotic for ear infection.

6:35am - Change clothes of antibiotic covered 1 year old.

6:39am - Realize have not made lunch. Grab can of soup.

6:40am - Run upstairs to get dressed. Already 10 minutes late. Realize none of my shirts are ironed.

6:45am - Try on 15 different outfits.

6:52am - Settle on first outfit put on.

6:55am - Have everything ready and about to walk out the door. Baby poops in diaper.

7:00am - Change poopy diaper.

7:05am - Go to put kids in car. Realize there is ice on the windshield (in May - who knew? I'm from Florida, ya'll).

7:10am - Get windshield defrosted and finally, cursing, back out of driveway only 40 minutes late.

For those of you who are desperately worrying, my boss was out of town and I snuck in the office unnoticed but definitely NOT feeling zen-like.

Oh well, there's always tomorrow.

Missing Pilot - Update

For those of you wondering, the pilot that was killed in the mid-air collision over Iraq was not my friend. The military is still searching for the other pilot. His identity and status are still unknown.

My prayers go out the family of Maj. John C. Spahr.

How Technology Helps Us

I am always amazed at advances in technology. I can still remember a time when there was no email. If I needed to talk to someone in the office I would either call them, or if they were close by, actually walk over and talk to them in person.

Email has changed all that. We now have the ability to quickly send someone a message without interrupting our work flow. We can just get the information across and without missing a beat continue with our daily tasks.

Sounds great, right?

Unfortunately, there is a kink in the system:
The over-anxious emailer.

I know every office has one. You know, the person who sends you an email and then runs to tell you that they sent you an email.

Please review the following example for clarification:

T: (breathless, walking up quickly and abruptly stopping inside my cube - i.e. my personal space) Shelly, Shelly!

Me: Sherri.

T: What?

Me: Sherri. My name is Sherri.

T: Oh yeah, sorry. Sherri. I just sent you an email.

Me: Um...okay?

T: (Talking really fast - imagine a guy valley girl) I originally wrote that I would meet with the temp on Wednesday, but I meant Thursday. I sent you an email telling you that I will definitely meet with her Thursday. Don't know what I was thinking! I must be braindead! (you don't say)

Me: Okay. I haven't gotten the email.

T: No, I just sent it.

Me: Um...okay? Did you need something else?

T: Nope. That's it. See ya, Shelly.

(Computer dings. Message: You have new mail in your inbox.)

Need I say more?

Changes to My Blog

You may have noticed that I have made some changes to the format of my blog. The black was becoming too depressing and just seemed a little bitchy. I have brightened up the look in hopes that it will assist in changing my bad attitude. (don't worry...many more bitchy episodes still to come)

Also, I changed my guest map. I realized that I was only showing a map of the U.S. (Now how silly is that. People do view websites from all over the world, Sherri.)

So, in the interested of building many virtual friendships with all you imaginary friends out there...I now have a map of the world displayed. Please take the time to sign in to my guest map. Hope to hear from you soon.

-S

When pigs fly (AKA I can't draw)

There's a website where you can draw a pig and they analyze your personality. Very scientifically accurate, I am sure.

Apparently, I'm an optimistic, poor listener who has a great sex life.

All from a little piggy....who knew?

Missing Pilot in Iraq

I have enjoyed the past few weeks of filling this blog with posts about funny things that happen at work or silly things my kids do. Those are major parts of my life. Unfortunately, very sad and serious events are part of it too.

Today there was an article on the Internet about a missing Marine pilot in Iraq. I am a military wife, worked for two years at a Naval and Marine Corp Training Squadron and just happen to have a good friend who's husband (also a friend) is a Marine pilot in Iraq. If you are familiar with the military, there are only so many Marine squadrons, and only so many of those squadrons in Iraq.

While I am a military wife, the war in Iraq is still very distant from me. My husband is currently stationed on shore duty in Pennsylvania where he works in the IT field. Even if he were transferred to a ship he would never be in Iraq. He would be floating in the Persian Gulf far from the fighting.

I guess my friend's wife must have felt the same way. Her husband flies jets. He flies too high for enemy missiles to reach him on recon missions. He takes some pretty pictures and flies back to the safety of the aircraft carrier. She probably felt pretty safe, like I do.

I don't know if the Marine who died is my friend. I am waiting like everyone else. Not wanting to make what can only potentially be a very clumbsy phone call and not knowing what to say, I just wait. And hope.

The truth is whether you are in Iraq, or safe here in Pennsylvania, you never know when your time is up. That is why I am reaffirming to remember what is important to me, family and friends, and let all of you know just how much I care about you.

I pray that you are safe Geoff, and if you are not, I pray that God will hold you in his hand.

Missing Receipt

My conversation with Budget Rent - a - Car:


*Ringing*

"Thank you for calling Budget Rent - a - Car. How may I help you?"

"Yes, I need a receipt for xxxxxxx. Travel dates 4/20 - 4/22."

"I'm sorry. We don't do that here. You have to dial the local Budget office that the car was rented from."

"Oh, Ok. Thank you."


*Dialing Budget in North Carolina*

Automated Voice - "Thank you for calling Budget Rent - a - Car. Please press 1 for lost and found....2 for customer service..."

*pressing 2*

*ringing*

I hang up after 20 rings. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. (Getting irritated)


*Dial original number*

"Thank you for calling Budget Rent - a - Car. How may I help you?"

"Hi. I called earlier for a receipt and was told I had to call the local office. Well, I did that and no one answers."

"Oh. You don't have to call the local office. Call this 800 number (gives the number) and they can give you the receipt."

"Okay, thank you." (More irritated)


*Dialing new 800 number*

Ringing. Ringing. Ringing.

What the F...? (Officially pissed)


*Dial orginal number again*

"Thank you for calling Budget Rent - a - Car. How may I help you?"

"Yes, I called earlier for a receipt. Was told to call the local office where the car was rented but no one answered the phone there. I then called you back and was given a different 800 number to call, but no one answered there either. I need a receipt. Can you help me???"

"Actually ma'am, we do that here."

"WHAT....you..do..that..there???" (about to blow a gasket)

"Yes, ma'am. What's the confirmation number?"

(give the confirmation number)

"Oh, I'm sorry. I can't give you the receipt for that confirmation number. Since you have a high level corporate account you will have to call this number....."

(Officially Freaking Out....)

"So you're telling me that since we are such great, high-level customers you can't help me. Billy Bob from Hicktown, U.S.A. can call you and get a receipt but a corporate account that gives you thousands upon thousands of dollars of revenue a year has to call somewhere else???"

"Yes, ma'am. That's correct."

"So actually, you can't help me."

"Well I can give you the number ma'am."

"How about you dial the number and get me the damn receipt."

"I'm sorry ma'am. I can't do that."

"No, of course not."

*hanging up and dialing the other number*


Ahhh....don't you love being given excellent customer service? I mean really, who could ask for more?