The Good. The Bad. The Ugly.
You can't beat a day that starts out by meeting this man.
Anderson Cooper. Fabulous! Went to his book signing this morning. Totally worth the 45-minute wait. He's more dashing in person than on TV (is that possible?!?), and was extraordinarily gracious, humble, and very sweet.
Continued on to see Diva Niece, who was absolutely a riot. She tried comprehending the basics of bubbles today, which didn't work out so well. She kept trying to catch and/or pick them up and was very puzzled that they kept "disappearing." Ah, to be in her head for just a few minutes. She is also very in love with herself (and rightly so). Mom has pictures of her grand-daughter on the fridge, and she points to the fridge and then to herself and laughs and wants to kiss them. Grandma thinks she just thinks it's any old baby, but Diva Niece is very smart and I am convinced by her actions and reactions that she is very aware that the pictures are of her and is very pleased with how adorable she is. A true diva indeed.
The day went from very pleasant to not so good when it came time to shop for some must-have tops to match my new cute summer skirts. No luck at all until hours of frustration led me to some "I guess they'll do for now" articles of clothing that will work until I find just the thing. Which with my luck will be in exactly three years.
My mood was easily salvaged, though. I figure my other purchases (new pillow, pillowcases, a cute pair of shorts, and my favorite perfume) plus my stellar morning made for an all-around great day nonetheless.
That is until I got home and assessed my semi-squishy tire. The same one I have been "keeping an eye on" for the past week. The one that I keep telling myself, "You should really put some air in there. It looks a little low." Followed by: "Damn, I hope it's not another 'slow leak.'" I have a lot of those. Tires and I have a long and storied history of issues that usually end with me dropping buttloads of cash to fix the situation.
An hour later, I went out to pick up dinner and then swing by Rafferty's for a movie when I decided to go to the gas station. No more procrastinating. But it was too late. As I inserted my coins into the air pump, my heart sank. There was just no way this was going to work. Somehow, in a one hour period of time, my tire went from semi-squishy to completely flat. Not a drop of air was going in -- and if it was going in, it certainly wasn't staying there.
The gas station I was at didn't have a service station, but the BP across the way did. I coasted my car over there...thump-thump-thumping along... and was told by the less-than-helpful attendant who was more concerned with his cell phone call than me that the service part of the station closed at 2. Hmmm...Ok. So I took a deep breath and entered into the following exchange:
Me: "Is there anyone here who can help me change my tire. I don't have a jack."
(Let's not get into why. The point is, I don't.)
Clerk: "Like I said, the guys left at 2."
Me: "What about you? Can you help me?"
Clerk: [Looking at his cell phone and me and his cell phone...and then frustration] "Look, I don't know what to tell you. Go to Lee Auto Parts. Maybe they can help."
Me: "Where is Lee Auto Parts?"
Clerk then points off to his right and waves his hand around.
Me: "I don't think you understand. My tire is flat. It's bad. I can't even really drive on it. I can coast. But that's not getting me far. Where is this place?"
Clerk: "It's right there!" (He's mad now) "Across the way. They'll help you."
And then...He turned. His back. On me.
Oh no he didn't, I thought. But yes, he just did.
I huffed out of there, got into the car, coasted as quickly as I could across the street (narrowly missing getting struck by another car) only to find that Lee Auto Parts also keeps odd weekend hours. What kind of town am I living in where everything service-oriented closes early on a Saturday!?!
As I'm getting back in the car, a woman who was just trying to be nice pulled up beside me and said, "You know your tire is flat, right?" I know she was just trying to be nice, but it took everything I had not to bite her head off.
My options were pretty slim, so I coasted back across the street to the stupid BP, went back in to the clerk who was still on his cell phone, and continued my unproductive conversation with him.
Me: "Ok, so Lee Auto Parts is closed. You work at a service station. I need your service."
Clerk: "I already told you-"
Me: "Yes, I know. Everyone left at 2. Let's have a new plan. Can I just leave my car here overnight? I can't drive it."
Clerk: [Skeptically] "Really? Because you just went across the street with it..."
Me: "Yeah, and almost got hit by a car. It can go, like, 5 miles an hour. It coasts. You're not supposed to even drive on a flat tire. It's going to ruin something, I'm sure, and at this point I don't even want to deal with whatever accident I might get into because of this suggestion. So please- can I just leave my car here overnight and someone can get to it in the morning?"
Clerk: "Our service department isn't open on Sundays."
Me: [Very exasperated sigh and audible groan] "Great. Ok, then do you have any canned fix-it stuff?"
(As an aside, I know that's not the technical name. I still don't know what it's really called. But you'd think the clerk, working in a gas station of all places, would know what I'm talking about.)
Clerk: [Quizzical look] "Ummm...if we do, it'd be there." [Points to small display of windshield wiper fluid and air fresheners.]
Me: "Fine. I'll look for it myself."
Naturally, I wasn't finding it. The clerk knew this.
Me: "I'm sorry, if you think you sell the fix-a-flat in a can stuff, can you please come show me? I don't think that's too much to ask."
He came over, still talking on the cell phone, and that's when I lost it.
Me: "I'm sorry, do you think you could please put the cell phone down? Unless that's your manager or a true emergency, I don't think it's more important than the customer. That's me. Please. Put down. The phone. NOW."
He did, which surprised me. But then again, I'm sure I looked more irate than I felt. And I was definitely creating a minor scene. He shuffled about, found me the last dusty can of fix-it crap and then had the nerve to ask if I'd like to purchase it. Obvious signs that he was not paying attention to my previous comments.
I bought the stuff. $4.55. It was worth it. I got to the car, followed the directions, and it worked. Relief.
Of course, as I'm filling my tire with whatever crap the fix-it stuff consists of, there were three- count 'em, three- "gentlemen" just standing there, filling their tanks, watching me. Not one offered any assistance. Not that I require assistance to put the fix-it crap into the tire. But it made me think, do they have an ounce of "whoa, should I ask if I could help" chivalry in them?!?
So that's how my day ended. Sure, there was my by-now-cold dinner and the movie and good catching up time with Rafferty, but it still ruined my day. I have to keep remembering the first part to remind me it was a full one and all was not lost -- and I met Anderson Cooper.
Now I need to set the alarm to make it to the tire place I found that is close to me and open at 9. I intend to be the first person in there. I'll bring a book. Hell, I'll bring two books. I don't care how long it takes, so long as I'm done in time for my pedi come afternoon.
Anderson Cooper. Fabulous! Went to his book signing this morning. Totally worth the 45-minute wait. He's more dashing in person than on TV (is that possible?!?), and was extraordinarily gracious, humble, and very sweet.
Continued on to see Diva Niece, who was absolutely a riot. She tried comprehending the basics of bubbles today, which didn't work out so well. She kept trying to catch and/or pick them up and was very puzzled that they kept "disappearing." Ah, to be in her head for just a few minutes. She is also very in love with herself (and rightly so). Mom has pictures of her grand-daughter on the fridge, and she points to the fridge and then to herself and laughs and wants to kiss them. Grandma thinks she just thinks it's any old baby, but Diva Niece is very smart and I am convinced by her actions and reactions that she is very aware that the pictures are of her and is very pleased with how adorable she is. A true diva indeed.
The day went from very pleasant to not so good when it came time to shop for some must-have tops to match my new cute summer skirts. No luck at all until hours of frustration led me to some "I guess they'll do for now" articles of clothing that will work until I find just the thing. Which with my luck will be in exactly three years.
My mood was easily salvaged, though. I figure my other purchases (new pillow, pillowcases, a cute pair of shorts, and my favorite perfume) plus my stellar morning made for an all-around great day nonetheless.
That is until I got home and assessed my semi-squishy tire. The same one I have been "keeping an eye on" for the past week. The one that I keep telling myself, "You should really put some air in there. It looks a little low." Followed by: "Damn, I hope it's not another 'slow leak.'" I have a lot of those. Tires and I have a long and storied history of issues that usually end with me dropping buttloads of cash to fix the situation.
An hour later, I went out to pick up dinner and then swing by Rafferty's for a movie when I decided to go to the gas station. No more procrastinating. But it was too late. As I inserted my coins into the air pump, my heart sank. There was just no way this was going to work. Somehow, in a one hour period of time, my tire went from semi-squishy to completely flat. Not a drop of air was going in -- and if it was going in, it certainly wasn't staying there.
The gas station I was at didn't have a service station, but the BP across the way did. I coasted my car over there...thump-thump-thumping along... and was told by the less-than-helpful attendant who was more concerned with his cell phone call than me that the service part of the station closed at 2. Hmmm...Ok. So I took a deep breath and entered into the following exchange:
Me: "Is there anyone here who can help me change my tire. I don't have a jack."
(Let's not get into why. The point is, I don't.)
Clerk: "Like I said, the guys left at 2."
Me: "What about you? Can you help me?"
Clerk: [Looking at his cell phone and me and his cell phone...and then frustration] "Look, I don't know what to tell you. Go to Lee Auto Parts. Maybe they can help."
Me: "Where is Lee Auto Parts?"
Clerk then points off to his right and waves his hand around.
Me: "I don't think you understand. My tire is flat. It's bad. I can't even really drive on it. I can coast. But that's not getting me far. Where is this place?"
Clerk: "It's right there!" (He's mad now) "Across the way. They'll help you."
And then...He turned. His back. On me.
Oh no he didn't, I thought. But yes, he just did.
I huffed out of there, got into the car, coasted as quickly as I could across the street (narrowly missing getting struck by another car) only to find that Lee Auto Parts also keeps odd weekend hours. What kind of town am I living in where everything service-oriented closes early on a Saturday!?!
As I'm getting back in the car, a woman who was just trying to be nice pulled up beside me and said, "You know your tire is flat, right?" I know she was just trying to be nice, but it took everything I had not to bite her head off.
My options were pretty slim, so I coasted back across the street to the stupid BP, went back in to the clerk who was still on his cell phone, and continued my unproductive conversation with him.
Me: "Ok, so Lee Auto Parts is closed. You work at a service station. I need your service."
Clerk: "I already told you-"
Me: "Yes, I know. Everyone left at 2. Let's have a new plan. Can I just leave my car here overnight? I can't drive it."
Clerk: [Skeptically] "Really? Because you just went across the street with it..."
Me: "Yeah, and almost got hit by a car. It can go, like, 5 miles an hour. It coasts. You're not supposed to even drive on a flat tire. It's going to ruin something, I'm sure, and at this point I don't even want to deal with whatever accident I might get into because of this suggestion. So please- can I just leave my car here overnight and someone can get to it in the morning?"
Clerk: "Our service department isn't open on Sundays."
Me: [Very exasperated sigh and audible groan] "Great. Ok, then do you have any canned fix-it stuff?"
(As an aside, I know that's not the technical name. I still don't know what it's really called. But you'd think the clerk, working in a gas station of all places, would know what I'm talking about.)
Clerk: [Quizzical look] "Ummm...if we do, it'd be there." [Points to small display of windshield wiper fluid and air fresheners.]
Me: "Fine. I'll look for it myself."
Naturally, I wasn't finding it. The clerk knew this.
Me: "I'm sorry, if you think you sell the fix-a-flat in a can stuff, can you please come show me? I don't think that's too much to ask."
He came over, still talking on the cell phone, and that's when I lost it.
Me: "I'm sorry, do you think you could please put the cell phone down? Unless that's your manager or a true emergency, I don't think it's more important than the customer. That's me. Please. Put down. The phone. NOW."
He did, which surprised me. But then again, I'm sure I looked more irate than I felt. And I was definitely creating a minor scene. He shuffled about, found me the last dusty can of fix-it crap and then had the nerve to ask if I'd like to purchase it. Obvious signs that he was not paying attention to my previous comments.
I bought the stuff. $4.55. It was worth it. I got to the car, followed the directions, and it worked. Relief.
Of course, as I'm filling my tire with whatever crap the fix-it stuff consists of, there were three- count 'em, three- "gentlemen" just standing there, filling their tanks, watching me. Not one offered any assistance. Not that I require assistance to put the fix-it crap into the tire. But it made me think, do they have an ounce of "whoa, should I ask if I could help" chivalry in them?!?
So that's how my day ended. Sure, there was my by-now-cold dinner and the movie and good catching up time with Rafferty, but it still ruined my day. I have to keep remembering the first part to remind me it was a full one and all was not lost -- and I met Anderson Cooper.
Now I need to set the alarm to make it to the tire place I found that is close to me and open at 9. I intend to be the first person in there. I'll bring a book. Hell, I'll bring two books. I don't care how long it takes, so long as I'm done in time for my pedi come afternoon.
2 Comments:
What an arse...was he in his early 20's? Likely bitter that his plan to drop out of college early and "find himself" wasn't working so well. Anderson Cooper is hot though, glad you got to meet him. Mmmmm.........
By
RockerMom, at 7:19 PM
Well, he was old enough to know better. I have decided to write BP direct and advise them that I am boycotting not only the station in DP but also just about every other one I can find based on the quality of their idiot. Unless I can help it, some other station will be getting business from here on out.
Yes, AC is yuuuuummmmyyyy.
By
mistressofchange, at 7:24 PM
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