Wheels up, mouth shut

Was flying solo yesterday on Southwest Airlines. I was lucky enough to score the A boarding group. Now the fun begins get yourself onto the plane into a seat to hopefully provide for the best conditions for a 3 hour flight. As I travel down the isle row one is always out, no under seat storage. Row two man so large he has his own zip code with the morning paper opened up. Nope not there either. Row 3 guy already has what appears to be 13 various electronic devices scatted, also a nope. Row 4 mom with infant that already looks agitated, ok better go back a few more to ensure a necessary buffer. Row 9 or 10, small lady sitting on isle headphones already in empty middle seat and empty window seat. Ok, this might be my winner, flight to Vegas is always full so better take what I can get. I grab the window seat and the rest of the passengers file onto the plane. The standard drill ensues, people file to the back passing the open middle seats in hopes of better options. And naturally as the law of air travel dictates the last 15 people onto the plane move slower than a clerk at the DMV 3 months shy of retirement and they also have the largest of luggage and want to make it the worlds problem that there is no longer overhead bin space anyplace near them. Well slack ass, plenty of room for your luggage AND you under the plane!

As the plane fills I know my one seat buffer between me and lady on the isle is coming to an end, the only question is who will it be? Finally here he comes, sloppy middle aged dude. He sits down and doesn't lop over my arm rest, so that's a win, next up please don't be the smelly guy. Nope, not smelling anything foul we just might be ok. I'm hopeful to get some work done, so I'm putting out all the vibes that I really don't want to engage in mindless chatter with this dude. We get through the safety lecture and all is good, he's as silent as a hungover Catholic during Sunday mass...just maybe I dodged a bullet here.

Shortly after wheels up he starts in telling me he's going to Vegas for work, he works for ADP, the company that does outsourced payroll management. Then he begins to speak of his greatness, he's solved so many of the problems that no other person could figure out. After about 10 minutes of his monologue I'm starting to ponder how I can get this guy to shut up.

He finally stops to take a breath and I interject. "Well, Bob ( i have no idea what this guys name is so I simply assigned him one) let me tell you a little bit about what I do. I work for a company that makes urinal cakes...do you know what a urinal cake is Bob?" Before he gets a chance to answer I say, "Never mind Bob, of course you do, you piss just like the rest of us don't you? I mean I assume you do? You're not carting around one of those urine bags are you? No..didn't think so. Well, you see Bob (he's now growing very irritated by the fact that I keep calling him Bob, clearly not his name) I'm being sent out here to Vegas to do some research. My firm is curious to see how we can truly up our game in the urinal cake business. Now Bob, let me ask you, have you ever walked into a bathroom and it just smells like piss? Of course you have, I mean who hasn't? Well, Bob that's what we're trying to solve here. Vegas is going to be an interesting case study for us. What do we do in Vegas? Well, we drink...a lot and we also eat very poorly. With that our urine is very concentrated, therefore is smells awful! So I'm headed out to do some field work. We are striving to create a new line of urinal cake that will work to counter-act the high levels of potassium, chloride and creatinine that account for that smell that just turns you off. Because let's be honest Bob, you want into a bathroom and Las Vegas and you want it to be positive experience and not remind you of that pisser in the Phillips 66 off the rural route. So while you're out solving all of the worlds payroll problems just think of me, I'll collecting piss samples. Don't worry, I get them out of the urinal, thankfully I don't pull them directly from the source, that would just be messed up Bob."

All of his body language clearly indicates I've turned him off and he wants nothing more than for me than to stop talking. I stopped and said, "I'm sorry Bob, I'm going on and on about myself and the urinal cake business, I just get so passionate about making piss not stink you know what i mean? But enough of that...Are you going to get any time to enjoy yourself in Vegas?"
He pulls out his laptop, doesn't even look my direction and says, "Yeah, maybe a little...I'm sorry, I've got to get some work done here."
I say, "Oh sure Bob, I'm sorry I'm over here rambling like a 17 year old girl after the prom...you get your work done."

Not another word was spoken for the remaining 2+ hours of the flight.

Customer Service Woes

Just had to make the dreaded call to customer service. I detest where our society has gone with this. The agent on the phone spent more time asking me questions specific to, "Sir when you receive the survey would you feel comfortable giving me a 10 out of 10." Well...I did hear that this call was being recorded for quality assurance. Boy oh boy will the quality assurance manager have some fun with this one.

So I respond to her, "I'm not much of a numbers guy...but if asked I'd say the service was ok."

Clearly not good enough,

"Thank you sir, but was there anything else I can do in order to ensure you give me a 10?"

I then ask,

"Are there sub categories to this survey? You're asking me how I'd rate you, but I haven't yet seen the survey."

Response, "Well, sir I'm looking for an overall 10 out of 10, so that I met your needs in all areas."

I respond with,

"Well, I was calling about a problem, in a perfect world your company would not have made a mistake and I wouldn't have to take precious time away from my star wars action figures to make this phone call."

Her reply, "Well, yes sir, but this survey is not about the mistake that was made, but rather about the issue I assisted you with."

Ok, now it's time for some real fun.

"So if I follow that logic construct I could go home and punch my old lady right in the mouth, but then make her a nice home cooked meal and ask her to rate my effectiveness as a husband, but expect her to isolate her ratings based only on the meal I prepared?"

LONG SILENCE ensues..."ummm sir, I can't really speak to that I'm simply trying to ensure I provided you with outstanding service...."

Having working in customer service I know these things are also timed, agents are rewarded for how many calls they can take in an hour...time to skew the average a tad.

"Well, I hear what you're saying Esmeralda, however, I truly fear society has put far too much emphasis on the impact of quantitative measures. While I agree they hold value, we must not lose sight of the value that can be derived from the qualitative narrative a customer can provide. Now, Esmeralda do you know why there is so much emphasis on the quantitative measures? [she tries to interject, I push ahead], I'll tell you why Esmeralda, quantitative is easy, in fact any ass-hat middle manager type with a 3rd graders knowledge of excel can report these numbers up the ole corporate flag pole and brag about how their units ratings are 9.6 out of 10, it's quick and easy like a Las Vegas hooker. But qualitative, now that takes time, it's the work of a pro. One most invest effort, focus on sentiment analysis, really dig in, and Esmeralda, I tell, those who take that time are rewarded with a treasure trove of data that is sweeter than a plate for a bacon on a sweat pants Sunday! Do you get me Esmeralda?"

Very, very long silence..."Sir...is there anything else I can help you with today?" I decide this is probably enough torture. " No Esmeralda, I do believe I'm good, have yourself a nice day now. Alrighty then, bye bye now."

Not the Norm

Well, Happy New Year!
This will not be the norm for me. Sorry if you're hoping for a laugh or wanting to hear how I jacked with somebody who wasn't being nice; just stop reading now.

We've all seen the inspirational crap that so many like to repost on the book of faces to make us feel better about ourselves from the comfort of our keyboard, e.g. "Everyone is fighting a battle you know nothing about so be kind, always." Fill one hand with that via the FB share button, and the other with hopes and prayers and well, you still don't have a ton to work with.

So, what's the point? Last month our family had returned to the same hotel we had stayed at almost exactly 1 year prior. What can I say, a creature of habit. Since the weather was 50 degrees warmer than what we had at home I took the opportunity to go for a run, just like I did the year prior.

The resort had a great running trail around a lake, lots of scenery, relaxing, blah blah! Last year I set off for my morning run to negate the beer and pizza from the evening prior. As I was running a year ago I ran past this lady, she was out there giving it hell, but it was very obvious she was struggling. As I finished my run she came in behind me sucking air harder than a terminal COPD patient. She flopped down on the bench right next to where I was standing and said, "I'm pretty sure I'm going to die...this is my first time ever running and I see why I've never really done it!" I told here, "Well, don't die. That would really make the resort look bad." She laughed. I then told her, "Well, congrats if this was your first run, you just beat your time from yesterday and set your new personal best." She smiled and was starting to breathe like a normal human again. She tells me,  "Well, that's easy for your to say, it doesn't look that hard for you." I responded with, "Lucky for me you didn't get to see me the first time I ran, it wasn't pretty." I went on to say, "Today you were faster than yesterday, and most importantly you're faster than every single person on the couch. The only person you should ever compete with is yourself. Keep up the good work...you got this!" I offered the highest of high fives and went on my way.

I hadn't given that moment a second thought. All I did was repeat the same recycled lines people had told me. Fast-forward a year. I'm back, same time frame, same place. Once again I need to run off pizza and beer. I go out do my thing, enjoying a nice run around the water. As I finished a lady walks up to me and says, "Do you remember me?" Ok, mild freak out...I don't recognize this person. Have I pissed her off? Do I owe her money? Is this somebody I have wronged? Very cautiously I said, "No, I'm really sorry I guess I don't." She says, " You talked to me a year ago after we had ran, I told you I was going to die." It was coming together but very slowly...the story matched but this was NOT the same woman. She obviously picked up on my extreme confusion and said, "Sorry, I look a little different I've changed my hair color." Then it hit me. Hair color wasn't the only change, I was looking at a considerably smaller woman. I finally said, 'Oh hi! Yes, I'm sorry I didn't recognize you." She proceeds to tell me that since our encounter on her first run a year ago that she has ran 3-4 days a week ever since. She then tells me she's lost 78 pounds. She told me her first run a year ago was a last ditch effort. Right before her family had left for vacation she had been to the doctor, she was on blood pressure meds, cholesterol meds, she was suffering from a great deal of joint pain and her doctor told her if she didn't start to make instant lifestyle changes he would have to put her on insulin. She gave me a hug and told me thank you. I said, 'Thank you for what?" She tells me, "You have no idea how impactful your words were a year ago, it may not have meant much to you, but it was exactly what I needed to hear....so thank you!" She told me that since losing all of the weight she was able to avoid the insulin path. Then she told me she's also no longer on any of her meds and has virtually no joint pain anymore. She also told me her husband fells like he's got a whole new wife!

Okay, what's the point? Always offer up that high-five. You never know who needs it. This lady did it on her own, but I was so jacked for her success.

Booze-How it's done

Greetings amazing people!
So, a slightly different topic for this time around. If you've ever been on a cruise or plan on going, read on. If not...go back to whatever you were doing.

So, if you've ever been tempted to climb aboard one of the amazing cities at sea it's a great time. You're lured in under the false construct of pre-paid. That is you pay up front for your cruise which typically includes your room, meals, and entertainment. In most cases it pretty much stops right there. Some will toss in soft drinks, but not all. So unless you're content with water, tea or coffee, open your wallet....or follow my plan for drunken cruise line success without requiring a 4th mortgage.

It really is a lovely game they play. Upon boarding: boom your credit card is linked up to your shipboard account. Your cash and plastic are worthless once onboard. So now that the man has effectively separated you from your money, hold onto something here it comes. Prepare yourself for the best bar service of your life. I mean you can't turn around without some dude offering to fetch you a cocktail. And now that you're separated from your money you blindly hand over that shipboard card and the charging free for all begins. Things are going well until you wake up on the last morning of your cruise, suddenly the fun is over and the helpful bar staff is nowhere to be seen and they've been replaced with your bill which is waiting for you. If you listen closely at 7am on the last day you can hear grown men cry. You can also hear wives yelling things like, "HOW MUCH DID YOU DRINK BOB?" Meanwhile many are left pondering where they turn to get a little hair of the dog! Instead you have a sore ass from the bar tab which by the way has already been charged to your credit card. Now you get to schlep you and your family off the ship with every other irritable asshole.

Ok, so how do we ease the pain? Well, the cruise lines have gotten better over the years and will let you bring a little bit of booze on, but 2 bottles of wine will hardly get you though a 7-8 day cruise.

Step 1:
Pick up a couple boxes of wine. Each one of these boxes is 3 liters. PS: If you're too good for boxed wine we can't be friends.

Step 2:
Remove that yummy refreshment from the box. Ok, now it looks a little less obvious, however you still might not get it past the half-wits checking out your luggage.

Step 3:
Wrap the wine so that the dispensing spout is covered and use a food saver to vacuum seal the bag of wine. Next up, use a label maker. Make it look as follows. So, now your forbidden bag of wine looks like an innocent IV bag. Tell me; what cruise line wants to be on the hook for taking your bag of IV fluids? Nope, you're right, they're gonna let that pass right on through. And now...bingo you've got your booze on board!

So some of you will say this won't work. True, it might not. What's the risk? This was $30 worth of wine, and 10 minutes of my time. Care to guess how much 6 liters of wine would cost you aboard a cruise ship? I'll risk that $30 every time!

Happy drinking my friends!

Florida Bathroom Break

Yesterday I arrive at the airport in Orlando to fly home to Kansas City. Like many I always make it a point to use the bathroom in the airport before boarding the plane in hopes of avoiding having to use the super-tiny crapper in flight. I’m the first to admit this is a challenge to all, but when you’re as tall as I am you can't even stand up straight it is awful. I give equal pity to the woman who actually have to sit on that god forsaken pile of disgust.

Anywho, I head into the airport bathroom in lovely Orlando. Much to my surprise there is a line in the men’s room. I’m not talking 2 or 3 deep I’m talking we’re at a football game that just went to halftime and every dude in the place runs for beer and pee time sized lines. Naturally obligatory guy small talk starts up. Most of it geared around how much money we all just dropped to pay homage to the mouse of Florida. Finally, I said, “Wow…I’m really surprised we’re having to wait just to pee?” The guy in front of me agrees. Time to make my move. I fire back with, “I mean really this is a big let down for me. This is my first time in a public men’s room since my gender re-assignment surgery. My therapist and I have been talking about this day for weeks and he told me how liberating it would be to finally have the confidence to use a public restroom post-op AND not have to wait like I always did as a woman.”

Two things instantly happened, 1. 4 guys decided they were no longer going to use that restroom and they left faster than a baby-daddy when the child support was due, 2. You could have heard a pin drop in that bathroom. The guy I was talking to in front of me turned around and acted like I was not there. As luck would have it two urinals right next to each other opened up and I ended up right next to him. I looked over and said, “Are we supposed to talk about sports while we do this? Or do we talk about boobs or something?” No answer from him. So then I ask, “How does this stack up against other men’s rooms? Are others nicer? Are all airport bathrooms the same?” I’m pretty sure he didn’t even finish going and all of a sudden he’s running from the bathroom and doesn’t even wash his hands. I had hoped he would end up on the same flight as me so I could continue to torment him, but no luck.

Oh well, until next time Florida!

Pig Sooie??

Several days back a potential student requests a meeting with me to talk about enrolling in my program. All under the premise of he already has a B.S. degree but can’t find work in his field. Upon arrival to my office I ask him to give me his back story, where he earned his bachelors degree, what did he get it in, and where he saw himself ultimately landing. Blah blah blah…

He begins his autobiography telling me he earned his B.S. in Business. I ask him what area he says marketing. He told me he’s interviewed with multiple firms and never gets a call back. Told me he’s been willing to relocate, take a traveling job, and even work on commission yet still no luck. Ok, a little stunned, this one doesn’t add up. The guy is clean cut, well spoken and thus far acted professional. I’ve never been a fan of marketing people but they are a necessary evil and if what he’s saying is true surely this dude would have been sucked up into some type of commission high travel job by now. Better dig deeper, need more answers here.

Next, I ask him where he earned his degree from. The question had no more left my mouth and his volume escalates about 5 notches as he blurts out, “UNIVERSITY OF ARKANSAS—GO HOGS PIG SOOIE!!!”

Oh what fresh hell was that??? 

At this point I have no words and just stare at him for what seemed like forever, I’m also pretty sure I have just uncovered why this dude is jobless. The silence reaches awkward level and he finally leans back in the chair and takes a deep breath and says, “I’m sorry, I’m a huge fan…I still travel down for games and have not missed one since I graduated.” More awkward silence. I finally said, “So…tell me do you do that every time somebody asks where you went to college?” His response, “Well, yay….the hogs are great!” Still not sure how to handle this one, which is a rare thing for me. 

The best response I can come up with is, “Yes, I like bacon just as much as any guy…but blurting out ‘Go Hogs’ just might be hampering your job interview efforts. “ Now he’s staring at me like he’s just seen a unicorn and finally replies with, “Yeah, but it’s our thing!” Oh boy…this dude really drank down some serious Kool-aid. I tell him, “Yes, and the Florida Gators do that stupid chomp crap with their arms and make themselves look like a bunch of paraplegics who suddenly regained use of their arms for the first time. Adding to the list I have no idea what the hell ‘Roll Tide’ means or ‘Rock Chalk’ for that matter, but I suspect none of them go into job interviews chanting that crap.” He’s still very confused, but I manage to divert the conversation away from Pig Sooie and begin to discuss his academic options.

Long term I hope he does enroll. I’ll have to be sure I teach his first class that way I can film the classes reaction when we do introductions on the first night and everybody gets to see this dude nearly have an aneurism talking about his college.

A little fun at Toyota

Fun with Toyota

So here I sit in the lounge at Toyota waiting for my multi-point inspection and oil change, which based on how long I’ve been waiting seems more like a team of highly under-educated half-wits are in the back attempting to rebuild the engine with butter knives and dental floss.

As I sit awaiting to get the news that my ride is ready to roll you can’t help but over-hear the conversations. Thus far the most exciting has been the lady in the corner who appears to be on the phone with her BFF; the topic of the conversation is bitching about her husband, always a riveting topic. He doesn’t help out around the house, doesn’t tell her he loves her and by the way according to her, “has become a sloppy pig.” Well shit, cut your losses now lady, kick him out now while you can still do better. Better plan, turn to women, that’ll really kick him where it hurts.

Other side of the room we have the business looking dude. He is so very important. How could his world slow down enough for him to take time out for an oil change. Shouldn’t he have people for this? For a person of this importance I’d suspect the following; 1. He doesn’t drive a Toyota…how ordinary. 2. When his pimp ride does need an oil change I’d expect a midget with a wrench and a shop towel to appear out of nowhere and just handle it.

Now my very favorite the soccer mom. I’m sure her minivan is overdue for service. She’s on the phone as well (most likely with a fellow soccer mom) talking about how busy her day is going to be. She’s decked out in everything from the Under Armor catalog. After all, one must portray the image that once done at the market they are off to the gym! She continues to carry on over the phone about how stressed out she is.

As I sit there alone working a lady adorned with fancy make-up and a Toyota name tag approaches me. She introduces herself as Jan and asks if we can discuss “trading up for a newer model.” No shit? I had no idea they did this sort of thing at the car dealership. I was stunned. I said, “Well, Jan this is quite the offer. But I’m just not ready for that. After all she still does pretty well. Still in pretty decent shape, has just enough pep to her and I feel like she knows me.” She’s still clueless that we’re talking about two different things. So she replies with, “well why deal with something that doesn’t meet your needs?” I come back with, “Jan she ain’t perfect, but I’m not one to just kick the old girl to the curb.” Jan was prepared for this argument…”Oh sir, don’t worry about that. The older, used models are in very high demand right now, it won’t be an issue finding her a home.” At this point I can barely keep my shit together. “Interesting proposition Jan, do you fix her up any or just send her right out to the next suitor?” Jan still doesn’t get it. “Well sir, it all depends how hard you’ve been on her.” At this point I can’t take it anymore, people are starting to stare and have put it together that I’m royally screwing with Jan. Time to pull the plug on this one. “Jan, she’s been well taken care of but who am I to say what another dude might want. You know we all have different preference on hair color, boob size, etc. I’ll just leave that up to you guys. Where do I go to pick out my newer model wife? I’ve always been with older women, but hey maybe those younger newer chicks have something I don’t know about.”

Jan was speechless for a very long time. Under Armor- Soccer Mom has now ended her call and heard much of the exchange and is giving me a quality ‘eat shit and die’ look. Finally Jan says, “Sir…I’m afraid we’re talking about two very different things!!” I tell her, “Well, I was talking about trading my wife in, what path were you headed down here?” Ok, now Jan is PISSED! She says, “I was talking about trading in your vehicle!” I tell Jan, “Perhaps next time you lead with that part, don’t you think that was a critical detail there Jan?” Now, she’s about to blow a gasket and tells me, “Sir! Why would you come to a dealership to trade your wife in?” I should add at this point Under Armor-Soccer mom has totally got that ‘how dare you!’ and ‘go girl power’ look on her face as Jan lets me have it. I respond to Jan with, “Well, why does Cracker Barrel sell clothes and cookie jars when I go there to eat? It’s diversifying your assets. I merely assumed this was new business line for Toyota.” I’m quite certain at this point I’m the reason Jan will be drinking tonight. She quietly turns to walk away. As she’s leaving I yell out, “Ok Jan, come back now that I know what you’re talking about this might be easier.” Jan just kept walking. Well, guess this means I’ll be keeping the truck.