Lack of service makes customer go crazy

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K, so last summer, I got into this altercation with a store manager. There was swearing, yelling, threatening and all sorts of stuff I am not proud of. I had bought Jonathan a pair of Crocs, and his first walk across a parking lot, the strap broke off. So, we eat our dinner, then go back to the store to return them. Store’s closed. We are back in town Sunday, store’s closed. I wasn’t planning another trip to town soon, so I ordered a pair online. They arrived at my doorstep before I even went to town again.

My next trip in, I take the shoes and the receipt in to return them. Turns out, he had replacement little doohickeys, and could fix the strap. Well, that’s nice and all, but I had already bought another pair. Thus, the story ensues…he refused for about 20 minutes to refund my money, going so far as to tell me that ‘he is the return policy’, when I asked to see a copy of one.  Total jerk, and I was a complete bitch.  I’ve never made a scene (in public) before, and I felt so righteous in my argument with him.  Alas, when I came home to tell Jeremy ‘you will not believe what happened to me today!’, he was less than enthused.  He kicked me off my high horse, and told me I should have never done that – not as a person who professes Jesus Christ to be her freedom from such pettiness.  Hence, the letter to the editor…

From:
Wyoming Tribune-Eagle
Date:
August 26, 2007

Michelle Mechels

Burns

There we were, facing off over the counter, shoes surrounding us, people beginning to hear the argument. He, a not-so-kindly business owner. Me, a chick with a chip on her shoulder. The situation? A pair of broken shoes and the need for vengeance.

Lately, my most consuming pet peeve is lack of customer service. Go even further, and it seems a lot of stores have a complete disregard for the customer’s needs. (Say, for instance, the need for a pair of shoes to take you across a parking lot while staying intact.)

The shoes really have very little to do with this letter. As I was saying, it’s lack of customer service.

I have stopped shopping at a large discount store since the end of spring. Such a huge waste: All of that space, and yet no room to keep their shelves stocked.

My very favorite? Going through a drive-thru, only to find the entire restaurant is being run by 12-year-olds.

To add insult to injury, these adolescents have never experienced drinking with a straw or using a napkin. I assume that since they hand you a cup with a hole in the lid but no way to extract the liquid and pass you greasy fries without a method of clean up.

Back to my shoe guy. He didn’t want to give me my money back due to the fact the shoes had been worn, and, consequently, he had been able to fix them.

I had already bought a different pair online and thought it quite ridiculous to expect anything other than a working shoe while walking.

Long story short, he was rude, and I wasn’t happy. He had no business talking to a customer the way he did, and I had no ground to speak to him, even yelling at him, in the manner I purported.

I took all of my past year’s frustration out on this poor man-child of a business owner who was just trying to keep a profit in his pocket. And for that, sir, I am very ashamed and sorry.

untitled

here in the blender, , ,

careless. useless. hopeless. defenseless. selfish.

tormented. degraded. humiliated. embarrassed. lonely. sad. forgotten.                                        no boundaries.                sleepless. lost. disgusted.

sick. forlorn.                                        desolate.repulsive.              absorbed. confused. pointless.

disregarded.       depressed.                 pathetic.

wondering.

worried.                               woe.

God was in a funky mood

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Deb came over for lunch today – or should I say she brought lunch today.  Came over for implies that I provided/served/prepared lunch.  None of those apply.  Along with lunch, she brought Mik’s dog, Oscar, and Dan’s girlfriend’s dog, Porkchop.  Confused yet?  Goodness gracious, keep up.  Anyway, I had not met Porkchop, and Oh.  My.  Gosh.  He is the cutest thing, in a hideous sort of way.  First time I’ve seen a bulldog in person…yes, I see them on tv all the time. I was so not prepared for what was to come.  He looks like a brick house on feet, and walks just the same.  His tongue is so long, it’s not even possible for him to hold it in his mouth.  He literally had a stream of slobber running down said tongue – like his own little serenity fountain.  But he breathed.  And breathed.  And breathed.  And again with the breathing.  So annoying!  So loud!  Such a noise that you cannot tune it out.  Every single breath that enters that dog’s lungs and exits out of his mouth is a snort.  Yes, a snort, as in “suuuueeey!”.  Pigs are not this loud.  Pigs are not this nails-on-a-chalkboard excruciating to be in the same room as.  This dog never stops.  That’s how he breathes.  His nose is completely smashed into his frontal lobe, so the only way for air to get through is via his brain – and we all know how bumpy the brain is.  Oh my gosh.  Insane.  You just watch.  The dog will be dead come July…

Dan, you’re gonna have some ‘splainin to do!

apparently, a spider is eating our watermelon

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Yep, it has been confirmed by our own tiny dancer that spiders are, in fact, eating our watermelon. Caedmon, while dancing in the kitchen with her ‘tap shoes’, discovered scratches on her beloved watermelon. She said she didn’t do it, Jonathan didn’t do it, so it must be the spiders trying to eat her watermelon. Damn spiders! Why must you torment her?!? Yeah, she’s a little on the disturbed side…

fighting through the sorrow

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The storm yesterday seemed much too appropriate and ironic to be appreciated. It started a few days ago with the winds blowing from an unfamiliar direction, revealing to us that ‘something’ was coming. Winds from the southeast are always an indication of unsettling atmospheric conditions. The force that traveled through was unstoppable and nerve-racking. The helplessness that accompanies those heavy gales is paralyzing. I watched from the shelter of my home as my new baby tree was being whipped about. I groaned from behind the safety of my window as I saw the awning of our swing being shred to pieces. I reacted with shock and surprise as our pool was lifted off the ground and hurled over the privacy fence. I grimaced as I heard the siding being ripped from the house, exposing it to the ferocious wind and water to come. And come it did…

Once the tears started, cessation was impossible. I haven’t felt this kind of loss since my father died 15 years ago. This sensation of grief is on an entirely different plane.

I was a teenager when my dad died after 8 days in the hospital, waiting for a heart transplant. (He was a diabetic, and by the time he felt enough pain to go the ER, his heart had already deteriorated to 25%. One of the nasty side effects of diabetes is neuropathy, a condition where your nervous system is diseased and does not react to pain. Dad was moved from #14 on the national heart waiting list to #1. He had 2 hearts come into the hospital – the first one too badly damaged from a car accident, the second ended up containing cancer. After 8 days, he lost the battle for his life.) I was very young, and only knew Dad as a ‘weekend visit’ or ‘holiday break’. After we moved from New Mexico to Wyoming, the weekend visits had even come to a halt. Anyway, my point is, I was young and only knew Dad on a fairly superficial level.

Rhonda started out as a ‘mother-in-law’, as she was Jeremy’s second mom. Jeremy had dated their oldest daughter in high school, then the daughter’s best friend in college (yeah, he was a playa’). Boyd and Rhonda introduced him to Christ, and loved him as a son. When Jeremy wanted to propose, Rhonda was the one he called 4 times when he was buying my ring. “What should I get her?” “What will she like?” “Am I spending too much?” “Am I spending enough?”. She was bombarded with questions that day! It took me a while to warm up to her. I felt kind of odd having married her daughter’s ex-boyfriend. I assumed she wouldn’t like me for that reason alone. Of course, over the course of the next few months, I grew to love her. Our son was their first ‘grandchild’, though not by blood. They always opened their hearts and arms to him as though he was. Papa Boyd and Grandma Rhonda were his favorite people to be with. 10 years later, when Papa and Grandma come into church, he leaves Mom and Dad, and even friends, to sit with them.

I used to tell Jeremy that Rhonda was the perfect balance of a mother and mother-in-law. She was caring enough to ask about our lives and want to be part of our lives, yet she never intruded. That was definitely one of the perks to not being her actual children! We had the benefits, but none of the disadvantages.

Right now, it feels very odd and awkward to be on the outside. I don’t want to impose on the family’s time of planning Rhonda’s funeral, yet I don’t want to wait until then to see Papa. I had a voicemail last night telling me when the funeral was and would I please bring a salad or dessert for the reception? I already knew when the funeral was, as we talk to Boyd throughout the day. It felt like a knife in the heart to be expected to bring a food item to the funeral. Not that I can’t make a simple batch of cookies or a nice pasta salad, for crying out loud! But to be on the outside… We are not part of their family. We were a part of Boyd and Rhonda, but not their daughters. We were welcome into their home as family, but only until their daughter and grandkids moved in after a divorce. It’s been different since then. I never wanted to add to the chaos by having us and the kids stop in. It feels strange to be on the outside, especially now. What am I to do with this heartache?

Like our house, my heart has been exposed to the elements. Unexpected sorrow enters in with the pain, the anguish, the agony of having lost such a good friend and a woman whom we loved as a mom and grandma. The forceful winds gust through my soul and shake my sense of comfort. Rhonda was always available to talk to, ask advice of, and share life with. Granted, there was always a line to access such, but that’s only because of who she was and who she represented. She was a picture of Christ, inside and out. With all of her physical persecution, she still continued to work as hard as her body would allow her. She was committed to her husband, her home and her daughters. She put everyone else first, loving others more than herself. She very seldom complained of her ailments, even though she has been plagued with illness and injury for years.

I’m so very grateful and excited for her; for the fact that she is in God’s glory as I write this, and is without pain and suffering and tears. I’m so very broken and lamentable for what we have all lost as a friend, a sister, a mother, a daughter and a wife. The world is a lesser place for having lost such a remarkable human being and an incredible example of God’s love.

I’m at a loss for words…

here in the blender

I cannot believe I’m posting this. Posting as if it actually happened – and it’s not just a bad dream. Gma Rhonda died today. Some of you know her, some not…but those who do, realize how completely shocking and devastating this is. Papa Boyd called Jeremy tonight and told him. Jeremy has not shed one tear. He’s either being very stoic and grateful she’s no longer in pain, or it hasn’t really hit him. How could it have? This is the woman who taught him of Christ’s love, who took him in as her own son, even when he broke up with her daughter. Rhonda treated him and loved him as though he was her son and she was his mom. Boyd is the only real father Jeremy has ever known – and he respects him as such. Oh my goodness…I cannot wrap my head around this. Caedmon and I just saw her 3 days ago, delivering her Mother’s Day gift and pics of the kiddos. I look back over what I’ve written so far, and can’t keep the tears from falling. She’s gone.

Whoa there, pardner…

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So, Jeremy and Jonathan come home Saturday night pulling a horse trailer. My first thought? “Oh, good, something else to sit in the yard.” Once the pickup was turned off, I heard bellowing. Yes, bellowing. As in “moooooooo”. Mmhmmm….they brought home not one, but TWO bucket calves. Why, you might ask, as I was? Well, to fatten them up and sell them – duh! Apparently, Jonathan has been doing a fine job working at the dairy, so the dairy sold him 2 newborns at $20 a piece – then he’ll turn around and sell them back to the feedlot. The same feedlot that the dairy owns…like they don’t raise their own calves!!! Oh no, they have to “sell” them to Jonathan, just to turn around in a few months to buy them back at 10 times the selling price. Yeah, pretty much, they just wanted to get under my skin. And they did. Big time. Look at these pics of these stupid(cute) and annoying(adorable) little babies!!

(part 3of3) wake up maggie, i think i’ve got something to say…

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He has spoken to us by his Son, whom he appointed heir of all things, and through whom he made the universe. 3The Son is the radiance of God’s glory and the exact representation of his being, sustaining all things by his powerful word. After he had provided purification for sins, he sat down at the right hand of the Majesty in heaven. (Hebrews 1:2b-3)

Did you catch that? The whole, “through whom he made the universe” thing? Ummmmmm, I did not know that. I had no idea that Christ has just always been, and that God CREATED THE UNIVERSE THROUGH CHRIST. That Christ is the EXACT REPRESENTATION of God, that Christ SUSTAINS ALL BY HIS WORD. Okay, so I know about the whole trinity thing. I get how they are the “3 in 1”. But I had no idea that Christ is God.

Parts 1 and 2 of this blog were mighty blessings for me. It finally sunk in that no matter what happens in my life, that it is happening not only through Christ, but that He who died for me ordained such. Yeah, I know, we have free will, free choice, our own minds, etc, etc. I believe we have free will within the confines of God’s directions. I will get to point B from point A, and there are many different ways to arrive at the finish line. So, yeah, I have the choice of how to get there, but God has already written the days of my life. And yes, He knows (He is God, hello) which direction I will take. Even though He provides a myriad of choice.

There is nothing concealed that will not be disclosed, or hidden that will not be made known. 27What I tell you in the dark, speak in the daylight; what is whispered in your ear, proclaim from the roofs. 28Do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul. Rather, be afraid of the One who can destroy both soul and body in hell. 29Are not two sparrows sold for a penny[d]? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from the will of your Father. 30And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered.

31So don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows. (Matthew 10:26b-30)

K, so here’s the part that gives me goosebumps…I am hidden in Christ. Have you ever thought about what that means? It reminds me of Jews hiding their wives and children from the nazis (not a proper noun – a sick group of human beings), to protect them from being taken and tortured and killed in the gas chambers. Christ hides me in HIM. Not only am I protected by Him, but everything that’s coming at me? The nazis of my life? My stepmother? My depression? My pride? My ignorance and unwillingness to submit? He sustains it all through His word. He has numbered the hairs on my head, for crying out loud! And guess what – that changes daily…if He cares enough to keep track of my follicles, don’t ya think He might have some say in how my life is lived? Heck yes, He does!

1Since, then, you have been raised with Christ, set your hearts on things above, where Christ is seated at the right hand of God.

2Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things. 3For you died, and your life is now hidden with Christ in God.

4When Christ, who is your[a] life, appears, then you also will appear with him in glory. (Colossians 3:3)

He is in control. My job is to pray, listen, trust and obey. Life is so much better when I’m not in charge…

(part 2of3) wake up maggie, i think i’ve got something to say…

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I lay awake that night til 3am, bawling. I couldn’t move a muscle, partly from fear and disbelief, partly because Jeremy was sleeping and I didn’t want to wake him. All of the anger I had kept bottled up came spilling out. I was infuriated that this crap was coming up again. I was infuriated that the little bit of time I had with Dad growing up was tainted. I was infuriated that she could do these things to me and get away with it. I was infuriated that she could be hurting someone else.

For the next 3 days, I was obsessed with finding out if she had ever been convicted for her disgusting crimes. I googled her name, and felt sick when I saw it attached to my Dad’s. I tried to do a background check, showing any criminal activity. I paid for a 24 hour trial on netsleuth.com, which turned out to be a scam – I couldn’t get any information without paying additional fees. I actually found her on reunion.com, but without paying a yearly fee, or signing a montly contract, I couldn’t get past her screen name, age and location. I tried to get as much free info I could, using the alias of Kelly Smith, a 53 year old male from NY (don’t ask – it just came to me!). Finally, my obsession ended. But my disgust and anger didn’t.

I couldn’t tell anyone about this. I didn’t want to begin counseling again. So, I just dealt…til I called the IRS…

I was calling for the umpteenth time, trying to get some stuff figured out with our business and personal accounts. The lady I talked to ended up arguing with me about what could and could not be done, and I argued right back. Just like the woman on the show, this woman on the phone set off a trigger of sorts, and again I was back in my childhood hell with my stepmother. Oh my gosh! Are you kidding me? I feel sick. I’m dizzy. I have this emptiness in my gut – an abyss that has no end. I can’t do this…I’ve got to settle down. I’ve got Caedmon in the back seat. I just got to town – how am I supposed to get anything done when I feel trapped inside myself? I took care of one errand, shaking the entire way through. By the time I got back in the car, I was shaking and crying again. Are you kidding me? This is ridiculous! How old am I? I cannot believe that this stuff is bothering me again! Get over yourself! Goodness…

I did calm down eventually, after asking Deb to just talk to me about nothing in particular. I couldn’t tell her what was wrong, but she did just carry on a conversation with me about the past couple of days, her kids, her life. It did help tremendously. I felt like an ass not telling her why I needed her to talk to me, but I really felt as though I shouldn’t.

This goes on for about a month. I would be a mess by the end of some days, and Jeremy would get dinner for he and the kids while I soaked in the jacuzzi. He would rub my back for everytime I thought about her and replaced that thought with my kids and himself. I thanked him for being so supportive, and assured him I was going to get past this. He knew I had been up late one night because of crap with her, but he didn’t ask any further questions. I felt so out of control of my emotions. I would cry at the drop of a hat.

Then we started studying Hebrews 1 in substantial depth…