And the price is…
No, it’s only blurry cause I took it from my cell phone. Your eyes are not deceiving you.
Death of a Cell Phone: Part II (aka–I really, REALLY hate Verizon Wireless)
…and so do many hundreds, NO THOUSANDS of others. And I know this because I just spent my last Saturday in NY in a Verizon Wireless store listening to all the other angry customers. So, last week, I get my “refurbished MOTOKRZR” and guess what? It STOPS WORKING altogether when I’m on my trip to Chicago while Bella is having a nervous breakdown about the Mt. Vesuvius on her face and I have 24 hours to go before I get home. In a way, it’s better and someone else can deal with her 15 year old hood, but now, how the hell I am going to reach my clients?
Anyway, back to Saturday. So I get to the store early, and it looks like I am NEXT on line, only this next bit takes over 45 minutes (even though I already know what phone I want) and while I’m waiting, this family (mother, father, 13 year old boy) are having a huge argument which goes like this:
MOM: Let’s just get him the new phone
DAD: No way, cause then it’s going to cost us $50 more per month. Just get the battery.
MOM: But the battery KEEPS DIEING. And they said that he could upgrade and still stay on the family plan.
DAD: That’s not what I HEARD. YOU HEARD WRONG.
MOM: But what if YOU upgrade and we give him the PHONE.
DAD: I AM NOT DOING THAT TODAY. I need to take over the cell phone responsibility.
MOM: NO WAY. The last time you did that, you lost a $300 phone.
KID: You lost it in the cab.
Dad storms out. Kid to mom: Dad’s GONE!!!!!
MOM TO KID: He’s such a child. He’s worse than YOU.
KID: Yeah.
MOM: YOU be quiet.
And then there’s this guy:
WHAT DO YOU MEAN, THEY DON’T HAVE MY BATTERY????
And then there’s a woman saying her Blackberry is only six months old and just STOPS WORKING in the middle of a phone call. And the response is for her to CALL THE MANUFACTURER. And the stories, go on and on and on. So I finally I GET my phone, but it’s going to take another 30 minutes or more to transfer all the data from the old phone onto my new phone and I leave it there because I am STARVING. And when I come back I see that the family is STILL THERE and I realize that Verizon MUST be the cause of many divorces, because the man looks like he’s about to kill someone. So I pick up my phone and the manager calls out: “Have a good day” and I’m like, “Yeah, what’s left of it” and as I sign for the phone, I see this:
And I’m like, “are they FRIGGIN’ kidding me??” (sorry for all the blurry pics, it’s just a little difficult to take a Blackberry photo of people you are spying on). But anyway, I get home, thinking my 2 days spent with Verizon over the last year is finally ended. Then I go to charge the phone and after 10 tries, figure out they gave me the WRONG CHARGER. And I just have to wonder, why there aren’t armed guards standing outside all Verizon stores because one of these days that husband is going to come back and take care of the person who really wrecked his marriage.
Chicago, Chicago, it’s my kind of town
So, I was in Chicago this week, an awfully awesome city. And this guy from Nashville says, after you ma’am, are you going to Nashville too? And I’m like nope, New YORK. And he says, “wow, the big city. I wasn’t impressed with Chicago.” And I can’t figure out why this guy from Nashville, land of hush puppies and fried food and fried food isn’t impressed with Chicago, so I say, well I AM, (mainly because I just came from lunch where I ate this chocolate fusion cake which was hot fudge on chocolate, smothered in chocolate and who in the hell can not be impressed by that??). And he laughs, and I say, ANYWHERE out of the big dirty apple is impressive. And he laughs harder, in that southern kind of gentlemanly way (which is very impressive to me, but he’s really not my type, but at least I impressed SOMEONE. (That J-Date thing still isn’t panning out so I cancelled.)
But anyway, that is not the point of this story, just a little background info. Well, I chose to fly out of Midway Airport, because it never EVER fails that I sit on the ground at O’ Hare for like 2 or 3 or 4 hours (last time I was prepared with the Chinese from the food court-but it didn’t change the fact that it took me eight hours to go an 1 ½ flight.) So I rush like a banshee from my 3:15 meeting to catch a 5PM flight, and I’m like all happy because I get there ON TIME. But then I notice, the very serious nature of security here with big signs that say “NATIONAL HOMELAND SECURITY” and all the checkers are little white boys (or girls, but I can’t tell because their hair is so short, but my person is wearing a flower earring, so I assume it’s a girl until I see the name on the badge – which is DANIEL) ALL WEARING GUNS. And I’m like, “did I miss something? I mean did something serious happen here at Midway with Terrorism? “Cause at JFK, where 911 happened, you usually see a (and I’m really sorry if I’m insulting here) but a lazy security checker, chewing lots of gum and fooling around with the other security folks-and I generally feel somewhat insecure because the security is making me feel generally not so secure. But Midway for God’s sakes , it’s not exactly a hot bed of terrorism, but then again, what do I know? And I continue to see lots of Homeland Security Officers with guns, but I move on, until the very serious frowning x-ray machine lady (I can tell ‘cause she has long hair) is checking and rechecking eveyone’s stuff. As though the barefoot girl with stringy jeans and two pounds of makeup may actually have an atomic weapon or something. (And I didn’t even take OUT my plastic bag of mascara). That gets through, but my little brown purse doesn’t and needs to be swept AGAIN. And I start to panic that I’ll miss the 5 o’clock. But it passes security check 2, and I rush to the gate with well, 40 minutes to spare.
So, I start browsing around and see this very large exhibition (next to the Hudson Newspaper Stand -what is it about them in airports?) about soldiers and military and everything they’ve done for us, with the names of the soldiers that didn’t make it home. And it makes me sad. But then I start reading about keeping America safe and all that, and I thought I’d take a picture to show you guys. So I did, with my Blackberry, but then I realized it’s illegal to take pictures in an airport, oh what the hell. But more painfully my thoughts were, it’s just a God Damn shame that we even NEED a military and I am so sick of men killing each other, and woman in children in the Middle East, and Russia and the rest of the world.
Well, I’m sorry I’m rattling on and on and on, but somehow, I know you’d agree with me. And also, my damn flight it delayed indefinitely, ‘cause guess what? There are thunderstorms in New York. And Midway doesn’t have Chinese.
Laras Lousy Play List
Oh my God, how awesome is this? You can do it too! If I can, ANYONE CAN!
Coping
So Bella has OCD. Or at least, what I think is OCD. Well, let’s put it this way. Anytime she gets one tiny pimple or two or five (and it’s really NEVER MORE than five), it is cause for alarm, consternation, and multiple trips to Duane Reade for Clearasil, or calls to the Dermatologist, and, at the very least, at least 40 conversations about the mountainous puss spewing dots upon her face, all within a 12 hour day. Which has caused me to drink at least one if not two or five glasses of white wine (haven’t been able to make the switch to red despite my numerous attempts.) In the meantime I told her that if she mentioned those goddamn pimples one more time , I was going to start chanting the Barucha’s, (in Hebrew) loudly, whether or not we were in public. Which I did. At least 5 times today, ending quite resonantly, and loudly with AAAAMMMEEENNNN. Which at times caused her to laugh, but the final time, caused her to tell me she was “GOING TO MY DAD’S” and I’m like, buh BYE! So, she throws her clothes all in a huff in her bag, and storms out the door to her father’s. (She did bring her toothbrush) And I sigh, thinking, it was almost a good day. And then, I find in her room this paper: Calm down Overcome, Problem solve, Invite, Negotiate, Go for it. And I thought, “I did a great job with that.” Amen.
Garbage Can Eatery
I know I am not the only one who does this. Dump food in the garbage…so you don’t pig out and eat the whole goddamn chocolate cake. And then. Reconsider. All those starving children in Africa. I KNOW I am not the only one.
See??
The Hottest Guy
7PM SUNDAY NIGHT: Bella is watching a movie. On her iPod. 1″x1″ screen. (This took 1 hour to download, btw and cost me $4, but she hasn’t complained about her pimples for about 15 minutes, so it’s worth the money).
Bella: He is the hottest guy. EVER.
Me: I understand. I met my man.
Bella: You mean that short Italian guy we met in TJ Max?
Me: Yes.
3PM SUNDAY AFTERNOON: And it wasn’t just his accent. Shopping for a suitcase has never been like this before. Who would a thunk it? Just as I am deciding whether or not to spend $59 on a leather wallet in TJ Max (yes, can YOU believe it? In TJ’s? $59?) a hot (and I mean not Bella version hot, I mean grownup, adorable, Lara DEAN version HOT), man comes over to me and, in a fantastic accent, points to his leather bound book and asks “can you tell me where that (Filene’s) STORE is”. I fluttered. I sputtered. I flirted. I spirted: Yes, it’s downstairs! Where are you from?” Italia. OH MY GOD. “What else are you wanting to do in New York?” I enquired. “SHOP”. HE SHOPS!!! Not an American man. I then proceed to list all my favorite places and restaurants, and sightseeing trips. It takes up 2 pages in his book. Where are you staying? Christopher street. Not available. He’s gay. With my girlfriend, he says. OK, OK. Girlfriend, boyfriend, whatEVER. Did I really think he was coming over to enquire about ME?
And then, while in line, with my new wallet, I see HER. And, I think, well, she’s NOT SO PRETTY. And I ask Bella, she’s not so pretty right? And Bella agrees. And then, I’m like (What the fudge am I teaching Bella?? Good mother, send her right into the waiting arms of therapy). Well, I say, she’s obviously got more than looks, and everyone should look beyond looks. Looks really don’t matter much in the long run, you know?
And, she says, of course not mom.
7:05PM SUNDAY NIGHT:
Bella: He is just sooo hot.
Me: I understand. I really, really understand.