>From the Thought Pot

>I just felt like posting, so here I am. I don’t even know what’ll end up in this one, so off we go.

I think I can safely say the apartment hunt is over! In describing the adventure we’ve gone through to find a new place, Steve mentioned a kind of building called the miracle building. The building that has to be found through word of mouth, won’t cost an arm, a leg, and a few fingers and toes to live there, has all the things we need, and hasn’t been overrun by creeps. Well, yesterday, we found not one, but two of those. Would you believe we’ve actually managed to locate two buildings that haven’t found a way to profoundly suck?

Let’s call them Little Miracle Building and Big Miracle Building. Both had apartments that were a good size, both had controled entry and elevators, both had access to pools and balconies, both had comparable rent and this sweet deal where they’d actually give you money back for staying. But Big Miracle building is a bit closer to downtown, has a giant room that you can book for parties, they’re giving us a free parking space for friends to use when they come to visit since I can’t see us having a car, and a cool laundry card system. No more running to the store for lunies and quarters! Plus, they deliver your mail right to your apartment through a slot on the door, and if you get a parcel, they’ll buzz you! How fuckin cool is that? Can you guess which miracle building we’re applying for? So, we’ll know by Wednesday if we’re in, and that still gives us time to apply for little miracle building if something edges us out. But this sweet lady who’s the rental agent seems to think we’ll have no problem getting into big miracle building. So, cross your fingers for us. If all goes well, there will be no more ditzomatic stories, and hopefully, with the rent being high enough, people with crack habits won’t be able to afford it. Ah the future is bright!

For some odd reason, I kept waking up during the night, and I kept catching snippets of this infomercial for this charity called Feed the Children. The idea is that this company has boxes and boxes and boxes of food in their warehouses available as emergency food for hungry children in the States, but they can’t even move a single box of food to a single hungry family until people send them money. You even get to see kids getting asked how it feels to be hungry. That just makes me want to scream, “How do you think it would feel, you fat fuck?”

Ok, at first, that sounds like a good charity, I mean everybody needs to eat. And they do say it’s emergency food. Then you think about it and realize, they don’t really specify what emergency this is. I don’t know about you, but if I can’t feed my kids, it’s an emergency. So which starving families are thought to be in greater need of food? How do they choose? And, doesn’t that just change the problem? Think about it. Some unknown benevolent force is shoveling food at families who, for some reason or another can’t find the money to feed themselves. So, for the time being, they’re fed. What happens when that box of food is empty? What if they don’t get chosen for the next box? What do they do then? Shouldn’t the parents get some help so this shit doesn’t happen again?

Some other random things were going through my head, I guess because I’ve had to make a lot of phone calls lately. Some companies order their customer service reps to say the stupidest things. The one that kills me is, “How can I provide you with excellent service today?” Well, robo-rep, you can start by not saying that line of bullshit. The only way I’ll know if the service is excellent is if I’m smiling when I hang up the phone. Next time I get that line, I might tell them that they can provide me with excellent service by not screwing up. But…shouldn’t they know this already?

Another one they like to do is, after the call is over, they ask me to rate *their* performance. This always makes me wonder, does this rating system even work? They can write down whatever they want. I could say, “You suck, I give you a 2.” and they could write, excellent service, 9. How do I know? They do say the call *may* be taped, but what if this one isn’t and they know it? Nobody will ever know. Plus, I don’t have the guts to say to someone, “You suck.” Well, there is the guy who called me a liar when I said I was blind and laughed uproariously when I got the computer to talk in his ear, but he was a telemarketer, and I didn’t want his service anyway.

Another question that will stop your standard script-reading phone drone in its tracks is, “Why?” It doesn’t take more than that. Right after they’ve told you about all the advantages of having their platynum interest rates through the roof visa card, and you say, “Why would I want that?” You wouldn’t get any more stammering from Porky Pig. I can just hear the poor guy. “I have to think? Oh my god! My brain cells! Do I have any left? That’s not in the script. Where’s the why part?” flip flip flip flip sweat sweat. “Come on it would be easier if you just hung up!”

I have nothing against phone guys, but I know some of them are stupid, and the rest are going to get stupid if they do that job much longer, it’s mind-numbing!

And, as abruptly as it started, this ride is over! Thank you for riding the merry-go-round of Carin’s mind.

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