Wednesday, August 27, 2008

It's been a long day ...

And it certainly wasn't a happy ending.

I get to work, and an hour into my shift, one of my regular customers show up. I let her browse around. She spoke with one of the other associates. But then she comes to me and asks me to put two things on the counter for her. I do. She goes to use the restroom. When she comes out, the other associate approaches her again. My customer tells her that I am helping her, and the associate tells her my name. My customer looks at me and tells me that she realizes she didn't know my name. The associate proceeds to tell my customer her name. Well, my customer goes over to a table of sweaters and starts going through them. I go over and help her try on several sweaters. I notice the other associate talking the with key holder, in their language of course. And from the way they were looking at me, I knew that they were talking about me. The associate's shift ended and she left. My customer was ready with a purchase for herself, a friend, and her niece ... most of the things were things I had helped her pick. And then the key holder goes and tells me that the SALE BELONGED TO THE OTHER ASSOCIATE. Excuse me? Who was unbuttoning cardigans and helping the customer put them on, the doing the same for two other sizes???? I was mad as a hornet.

After my break, Bella shows up. She's shaped like the liberty bell, and probably just as big. Though she somehow manages to squeeze herself into a large, and occasionally an XL. I don't know how she does it, if she has a magic wand in her purse to make herself to fit into a large, but I would love to know how she gets the material to stretch enough for her. She even is brave enough to try on mediums. And believe me when I say that she is definitely NOT a medium when she is barely an XL. Though don't tell her that. She might knock you over with her hips when she walks by. Once she sat down for about fifteen minutes after waddling around the store. And she leaves a messy trail of clothes behind her as well. Unfortunately, after she left, she came back with a friend who was just as messy. Fortunately for me, the friend didn't shop in my department.

To top it all of, I picked up the phone and the person on the line was asking for the store manager and the number to customer service. She wanted to make a complaint that she was in the mall a while back and she was with her daughter outside our store. She was shocked when we called security because they thought she left her daughter alone when she was with her. She said that we should be watching our store and not what was going on outside. Well, that's her story. When the key holder hung up, she asked me why did the customer wait so long to complain? It happened over three weeks ago. Then she started to say maybe the customer was there and maybe we just didn't see her. If she really was there, then why was no one around to watch the little girl? There was no adult around except for another set of parents who were watching their own kids. If she really was there, why was security able to come and take the little girl to the security office? If she was there, she couldn've stepped in and say, hey, that's my daughter. If she really was there, why would she show up half an hour or more later, not knowing where her daughter was?

Want to know what really happened?

I hate going to the DMV

In approximately eight hours, I will be making another trip to the DMV ... the third day in row ... fifth DMV office total. Why??? Because my dad needs to get his registration sticker for his car. Why do I have to go? Because his English isn't good enough. Let's start at the beginning.

August 11
Nina and I go to DMV #1 to pay for his registration and fill out the application for her CA i.d. card. I pay for his registration, but they won't give me a sticker because we have to send something to the state DMV for our proof of financial responsibility. And he needed a smog test. Nina didn't get her ID because they couldn't find her in the system via her social.

August 25
I call the state DMV to find out if they received our "proof of financial responsibility" and yes, they did. I take my dad's car to get a smog check, and yes, I survived. Driving his car is like choosing a slow agonizing death from either suffocation or from the heat or asphyxiation (isn't that the same as suffocation?) or lung cancer. Plus, it's like 96 degrees out and he has no air conditioning and he has leather seats. I take the car to the place my dad told me to. They send me somewhere else because he probably just needed a smog test. Get the smog test done. Go home and switch cars because there is no way on God's green earth that was I was going to drive his car any longer than necessary. I drive back to DMV#1 and the line is ridiculously long. So I know of another DMV that I went to another time. I drive to that DMV and guess what? The line is also ridiculously long. So long that they had someone at the end of the hallway limiting the number of people going in. So I leave.

August 26
I go to DMV#1 and see the same line. Go to DMV#2. I actually get in the hallway this time. By the time I get remotely close to the counter, it says wait time was 40 minutes. And that's once you got your ticket. I was a good 20 minutes away from the counter after waiting 20 minutes already. Seeing as I only had like an hour before work, I knew I wasn't going to make it. So I leave. Guess what the wait time at DMV#1 was? 20 minutes. Rats. Should've stayed. Then I get home tonight and my dad is super angry and said he shouldn't have me do anything for him anymore. That's fine by me. Because if I had done this, I would've done this like in JULY instead of waiting till now. Then again, where was I in July? Oh yeah. At Nina's. Why? Because I had virtually been pushed out of the house. And when they wanted me to come back home, I wasn't going to till I absolutely had to. If he wants to take care of it by himself, that's fine by me.

Saturday, August 02, 2008

Burst my bubble why don't you?

Okay, so last week I went to the Chad Billinsley signing at the AT&T store on Wilshire. There were two lines, one for "Dodger Fanatics" and one for "AT&T Customers." They let the "AT&T Customers" go first ... even though my friends and I were the first ones in line and we had showed up at 8. But that's okay, because they let us in after the first ten of the "AT&T Customers". Today, there was an autograph signing for Andre Ethier at the AT&T store in Culver City. Because I had to be at work at two o'clock, we left at seven to get there. Naturally, we were the first ones there. After about four hours of waiting, they announced that they were going to let all the "AT&T Customers" go first before even TOUCHING the other line. You can imagine how upset I was and the people in line with me. We had been in line longer than anyone else. And with the long "AT&T Customers" line ... there was NO WAY we were going to get our autographs. I was quite upset. I voiced my opinion to the person in charge, and she didn't like it one bit. I guess I was a little rude ... not as rude as some of the other people in line behind me. I was just told her that it wasn't fair because we had been in line since 7:30 and waited all this time to see Andre. Had I known they were going to to do it this way, I wouldn't have come. She said that's how they did it. I said no, because I was the first person in line at the Chad Billingsley one and they alternated between the two lines. She said, that's how they did it last year. But I told her the Chad Billingsley one was last WEEK. She didn't like it. Basically told me, too bad, "AT&T Customers" come first. The other AT&T representative was very sympathetic ... and I think she got in trouble with the blonde boss lady. Poor thing. I felt very bad for her. But I was tired, upset, and hot. We stood in line for nearly FIVE hours in the sun ... before they finally decided to let us go in as well. One lady kept coming up and complaining that she had been waiting for two hours and it wasn't fair because most of the "AT&T Customers" probably hadn't been in line as long. One lady in the "AT&T Customers" line waited just as long and didn't like her complaint. Another fan in line complained and I guess it was hers that got the boss lady to change her mind. They said the "radio" advertised that "AT&T Customers" got to go in first. Actually, the radio said that if they showed their AT&T phone, they'd get "front of the line" privileges. Does that equal "going in before everyone else"? And online, there was no such disclaimer. That isn't fair to those of us who saw the autograph signing online but didn't hear about it on the radio. Naturally, it was a no-win situation because they said one thing and someone said another. They originally said they would alternate between the lines. Then the boss lady changed all that. Had they left it alone with the alternating ... it would've been fine. But when the boss lady told me basically too bad ... I was almost in tears. Nina was almost in tears. The girl behind me was almost in tears. And we had been there way longer than anyone else. It was probably around 12:30 before they finally let us go in. Andre signed Nina's picture first. She mentioned the smudge of dirt on Andre's forehead in the picture ... and he said, "it's a dirty game." I wish I had on it video! Nina had Andre sign a picture I took of Andre in the Dodgers' dugout from Saturday's game. Everyone around us loved the photo and wanted a copy. We joked about running down to RiteAid and making copies. I had Andre sign my scrapbook. I think I heard some murmurs when I laid down my scrapbook and opened it up to a certain page. I had thought of some things to say to Andre when it was finally my turn ... but I forgot all about them because I was still quite upset. One of the AT&T workers was handing stuff out and made a comment to me that she saw my scrapbook and wondered what it was, and how long I worked on it. By the way ... the sunglasses I'm wearing in the picture ... I have Andre's autograph on the right side ... and Russell's autograph on the left side. I enjoyed seeing Andre and getting his autograph on my scrapbook ... but the whole ordeal with the boss lady left me with a bad experience overall ... and it soured the rest of my day. Though I may have inspired another fan to start a scrapbook too.

The picture Nina got signed

Andre arriving ... late as usual

Nina and Andre

Me and Andre ... and my giant scrapbook