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Saturday, January 12, 2013

Wait A Minute, I Know Who You Are! A tale told in two parts

Preface: I consider myself to be a very average looking, overweight, middle aged lady who is completely unmemorable in most interactions. You know, the lady that gets “ma’mmed” and then dismissed by most service personnel.
Part One: A few years ago, I worked near a great little Mexican restaurant and we went to eat there pretty regularly. One day, I was in the area on the weekend and stopped in. Anyway, I ended up in a very loud and heated altercation with one of the customers. (A story for another day.) Unpleasant, but he left and I stayed and ate.
Skip ahead. One year later, my nice co-worker arranged for a birthday lunch for me at the restaurant. She went in early to also buy a gift certificate and, as a joke, to have the restaurant staff sign my card. She came back with some questions. “Did you have a big fight in the middle of their restaurant?” “Um, define big and middle.” “Well, they thought it was pretty funny.” And evidently memorable because one year later, and then recognized my co-worker? Happy to entertain.
Part Two: My current computer debacle continues. After many, many trips to Staples where I took up Cameron’s (the very nice sales associates) time with dumb questions about my new Microsoft Surface, I finally gave up and returned it. I really liked almost everything about it, except I couldn’t download stuff, like songs, audio-books, a driver for my printer, you know the stuff that is necessary to life. However, they are releasing a new Surface in a few months that will do all that. So, after another very long discussion with poor Cameron, I go off to purchase a little, cheapy, notebooky, thing to pass on to the kid as soon as I get the new Surface.
Ha! Walmart (yes, you may laugh at my expense) where I purchased the last one, has none, in the entire damn state. Excellent. After going to a dozen places, I figure I’ll just swing by a different Staples and check out what they have on clearance. The very nice sales associate tries to interest me in the Surface where I say, “No thanks, I had one and returned it.” He smiles and points his finger at me. “Did you just return it? You are the one. Cameron told me about you!” Oh for the love! Really? I am that difficult, outspoken, and cantankerous? No he assures me, Cameron had nice things to say. Well, I guess I better write Staples another letter, assuring them that Cameron needs a raise.
For thinking I am flying under the radar, I guess, considering previous TSA interactions, I should be happy I’m not on some government watch list.

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