Irishgoddess’s Weblog

I wore my maroon velvet blazer to work today in honor of Ellen’s red jacket last night. I don’t care what anyone says – I loved that I was watching the Oscars, of all shows, with a woman on center stage wearing a tux – not because she was doing the coy I’m-a-woman-in-a-tux-look-at-how-sexy-I-am-anyway but because that is how she was most comfortable. There was no denying her butchiness. I loved it. I loved her shoes, too.

One time I saw a photo spread of Martina Navratilova. She was all made up, hair done all pouffy, and she had on an evening gown. She looked so uncomfortable. No, no, no! Ellen is comfortable in her skin, and the way she dresses shows that. How rare, and how wonderful.

My mother gave GMan a gift certificate to a music store for Christmas. The point of it was to pay for the trumpet lessons that he used to take and used to like.

I called them to schedule the lessons, and they told me GMan had to go on a waiting list because the instructor was at capacity. OK. They told me they’d call me when GMan could start. Two weeks (2/7 to be exact) ago they called me and said GMan could start. I asked if I could just pay when he came in for the first lesson. The guy said no, I had to pay in advance, but he could take my payment over the phone. I told him that I’d rather come in in person because I had a gift certificate.

Now, you know me. I’m busy. I’m a procrastinator. I would rather do a million things (like sit on my butt in front of the computer) than run errands. So, when DTE brought me flowers and lunch the folowing Wednesday (2/14) – the day before the lesson was scheduled, he did so. Only they told him it was too late. They had already given the spot away to someone else.

This made me really mad. This came on the heels of a really shitty day at work, being yelled at and bitched at and whined at – all about things beyond my control. I am constantly apologizing, refunding $, etc, all in the name of “good customer service”. It often seems to me that people whine because they know it will get them something, even if the service wasn’t actually poor. So it was in this state of mind that I decided to do something I’ve never done…I called the music store.

I asked for the manager. The woman answering the phone seemed a bit flustered by the request, and then asked which department I was calling for, so she could properly direct me. This was my mistake number one. I should have asked for the owner. The “manager” who got on the phone with me was the same loser who called me in the first place. I told him how unhappy I was. I told him I was extremely disappointed in his store’s treatment of me, and that they had never told me I had a specific time frame in which to pay for the lessons. In fact, the only time frame they gave me was “before” the lesson, and I explained to him that I felt 24 hours BEFORE the lesson was, indeed, BEFORE the lesson. I lamented the fact that he never bothered to call me again to ask what was up, and to tell me that he was about to give away GMan’s spot.

So little weasle manager dude said he was sorry. He was sorry that I misunderstood. Jerk. I didn’t misunderstand. His store has a dumb policy which he neglected to tell me about on the phone the first time, and neglected to tell me about again by not calling me to tell me he was giving away GMan’s spot.

I told him I was so angry that I wished I could just take my gift certificate elsewhere because I didn’t want to patronize his store any more. His solution? “Well, you could just use the gift certificate to buy sheet music instead of taking lessons.” Although I was choking with anger and awe at his lack of customer service skills, I hung up the phone politely.

And, of course, it hit me later. #1. He should have offered a cash refund on the gift certificate. #2. If I had a gift certificate – which I told him at the initial conversation – it means I have already paid the money! He already HAD my money. So how can he say I hadn’t paid in advance? Asshole. Jerk. Stupid, pimply, geeky manager.

Lesson learned? I need to practice my complaining skills, or I need to just give it up altogether, because it got me nowhere. I can’t even get something I want out of a 19 year old “manager” at a music store. Pitiful.