Comcast debacle

Our next available time slot to connect your cable is on 6/27 or 7/10.

I am moving you see and a girl's gotta have her internet! Forget the TV, I must have the internet - waiting till July simply wont do! SO I sorta-calmly asked Comcast to "try again". Their response:

"Ms Myer I am trying to make this as smooth as possible for you. The available slots to establish your new service are 6/27 between 11 and 2 or 7/10 between 2 and 5. You need to be accomodating"

ME? I need to be accomodating? From what customer service sewer are they operating from? Now this poor rep is reading a script and working with some ancient call center application and really has no ability to help me above and beyond what the system allows her to do. I mention this and then ask her to put me in touch with her supervisor before I cancel my entire service with them. Now, this either gets you a supervisor (except in Georgia Power's case - they simply dont give a shit cause they have no competition) or gets you into the "save gate". The save gate exhists in ALL call centers. These gates are full of the best sales reps hand picked by senior managers to SAVE and RETAIN customers. These folks have the ability to credit your account, call you back, etc. If you aren't getting service, seriously threaten to cancel and you will end up talking to a bubbly Jody from Iowa who gets PAID a commission to KEEP you happy.

Comcast is now going to call me back tomorrow to confirm my connection appointment for next week. July?? c'mon!

Thirty Wonderful

My birthday came along recently. Nothing too crazy, just a Pimps N Ho's party. Well the party was for my best friend who turned 30 the day before me. Looking back, I am amazed at how easy it was for me to parade around in zebra-print-garter-dress-ensemble. More shocking than that was how my other friends embraced the "Ho" appearance. They donned fishnets, pig tails, whips, gold lame, pleather. Oh baby! Divorce seems to be the best thing that ever happened to one of them! I am enjoying watching her discover herself and coaching her through dating. She maintains an acute adorableness about her as she tromps off with some pimp she just met. Good for her!

Earlier that day I was over at "the f-ing house" paying the painter as he had completed the interior work I had hired him to do. He says:

"Ah, miss Diane? I ask question? u no get mad?"

uh oh, I think to myself but ask him to go ahead.

"are you lesbian?"

Now. He was an hour early. We agreed on 10am, he called at 9:05 to ask where I was. So, I rolled out of bed and hopped in the car. I dont get dressed up to pay contractors. Sorry.
He continues:

"you tall, beautiful woman with job. where is your husband? your man?"

my response: "he's sleeping." Oh dont even get me started. I KNOW I dont need to write how insulting it is that a man thinks I am a lesbian simply because there is no man PRESENT at the very moment. I realize he was complementing me in some way, but c'mon!