June 17th, 2005


CharterOne Sucks

The recent complaints about Charter Cable reminded me about my bad experience with CharterOne Bank.

I never opened an account with CharterOne. They bought Rochester Community, which was a nice bank that offered free checking, never screwed with my account or failed to live up to any of their promises.

When I moved out of the country, I thought it would be handy to keep some American money in a local bank that I could use when I came home to visit. I didn't know what fees might be involved in leaving an account inactive, so I called their csr and asked if I could have an account that might be inactive for a couple of months at a time. The csr said I could. So I did, only to find out later that I *could* do that, but the service charge on an inactive account was $11 a month. And by "later," I mean that they failed to send me statements for a couple of months, so by the time I found out about this, they had already taken $33.

I complained, of course, only to be told that the csr was technically correct; apparently it was my fault for not phrasing my question more specifically. I countered that if I ask a doctor if I can jump off a highrise building, the fact that, technically, I *can* do it is obviously less relevant than the fact that the consequences are such that it's really not a good idea. Anyone with half a brain would have understood that I was asking, not if it were possible, but what would happen if I did it. The rep, who apparently has spent way too much time watching Jeopardy, insisted that the rep had answered the question I had asked, and even if he hadn't, the rules were the rules, and it was my responsibility to know the rules and abide by them regardless of what their own rep may have told me. No, they didn't have to live up to what their reps say. And they couldn't close my account because there was still $.04 in it, and if I didn't come into the bank (which was several hours away), withdraw the $.04 and close the account by the end of the month, I would be charged another $11, which would put my account in default and trigger a bunch of new fees. I ended up having to take a whole day to go down there and withdraw my $.04 and close the account.
  • Current Mood
    aggravated aggravated

In N' Out

My mother sent me to this place I've not ever visited, because she heard from her co-workers that they had good chicken wings. Ookay. So I went to get her lunch. And me lunch. Both.

Stared at the menu a bit, at the walk-up wire-mesh window in the 90-degree Florida sun. Was asked what I wanted. Said I was thinking. Okay, sure, go ahead. Was asked what I want, again, in a minute or so, and I open my mouth to answer, and the guy says, "Well, go ahead and keep reading the menu."


I make my order - cheeseburger, wings, onion rings, tater tots ('cause I totally didn't see fries on the menu until too late), and a root beer. Woman who takes my order yells it all back, one at a time, to the food people. And the person vanished from the window. More people walked up. We all waited. Finally a guy sticks his head up to the window and yells my total. I misheard him the first time, and handed him $6 for my $10 order. He took it, closed the window, rang it up, then stuck his head out again and said, "NINE (somethingsomethingchange)!" So I apologized, took back the money and handed him a twenty...

Got my change and he started waiting on other people. A woman standing next to me says, "Don't worry about that guy, he's an asshole, everyone knows it." Mmmkay.

Window opens again, and he thrusts two bags at me before disappearing. I said, "I had a drink," while (for the first time in my life, actually) digging through the bags to make sure everything I ordered was there. They messed around abit inside before he ripped off the receipt and held it out to me, saying, "I didn't charge you for a root beer." Then he, again, closed the window. I said, "I ordered one" as he started waiting on another person.

Then I realized it was too damn hot and I was too annoyed to stand another ten minutes in the sun for the sake of a drink I could get at any gas station, said, "Oh, fuck it," and left.

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  • Current Mood
    annoyed annoyed
[Stock] Just waiting

A question...

Today I was at Olivia's for lunch and the waiter kept flirting with me. He also kept looking down my shirt (I even caught him sneaking glances at my chest while he was walking back to the kitchen). I was also with my boyfriend. I didn't say anything, but I was pretty cold to him the rest of the time.
Does that make me a bad customer?
  • Current Music
    "My Happy Ending"~~Avril Lavigne


To the guy working behind the deli counter at BWI airport yesterday.  You suck.  I understand that English is obviously not your first language and as soon  as I realized that, and so realized that you might not have understood me because it was noisy and I spoke quickly, I repeated myself slowly and clearly.  How difficult is it to understand "What is your soup today?"  I repeated several times because you weren't answering my question, not because I heard your accent and assumed  you must be stupid.  I'm aware that increasing my volume is not going to somehow help the language barrier (why do so many people speak LOUDLY to foreigners as if the problem is that they're not being heard?), but I  thought that speaking more slowly and enunciating more clearly would make it easier for you to understand me.  Apparently it only made you mad.  First you told me that soup comes in cups  or bowls.  Then you told me the price  for each.  I could see both of those facts on the large menu alongside the words Soup Of The Day.  Then you explained that the soup was not ready yet and it would be another twenty minutes.  Each time you gave me a new piece of information your tone became shorter and more annoyed, and each time I smiled and repeated, "No, I just want to know WHAT KIND of soup you have today."  By our third or fourth exchange you were clearly angry -- I only have high school Spanish but I do know the swear words and what you called me was not acceptable by any standard of language.  You snapped at me to speak to the cashier about the soup and to stop wasting your time because you had other customers.  I stepped around and spoke to the cashier, but she understood less English than you do.  Fortunately there was a very sweet lady in line next to me who spoke both English and Spanish fluently and she stepped in without even being asked and translated my question so the cashier could immediately tell me about the cream of chicken soup.  Then she turned back to your rude ass and started firing rapid and angry Spanish at you and gesturing towards me.  I don't know what she was saying, but  judging from the way you immediately looked ashamed of yourself and slunk into the back, I bet she told you off for calling me the word you did, assuming that I couldn't understand it.

(no subject)

I don’t usually have stories for here, but I do tonight.

I don’t go to McDonald’s often (I’m more of a Burger King person), but occasionally I’m in the mood for McD’s hamburgers. The one right near my house is usually very good (the biggest fault being that they get really busy and instead of moving faster, move significantly slower), but since I was taking a nice drive tonight, I decided to stop at the one a couple miles from my house. Mistake #1. (Mistake #2 being that I could have continued down the same road right to my “home” McD’s.)

I pulled up, ordered, and got my total: $4.82. I pull out a ten and eighty-two cents, pull around, and give it to the young man at the window. He hands me a dollar bill, then turns away.

I tried everything. I honked my horn, shouted, waved my hands at the tee-heeing chick who was there looking straight at me, but I could not get anyone’s attention. It’s like I was suddenly invisible.

Finally my food arrives and the guy turns around and hands it to me, and I try to explain the problem:

Me: *holding up the dollar* I gave you a ten. (I said it nicely, my tone saying “Hey, I don’t know if you noticed, but . . . ” because I’ve had customers try to scam me in the past.)
Him: Uh, I think you gave me a five.
Me: No, I gave you a ten and eighty-two cents. (Because besides another dollar bill in my wallet, that’s all I had.)
Him: I don’t think so.
Me: I think so, and I’d like you to give me my correct change, please. (Five bucks is not a tremendous amount, but as a student working part-time, I can't just give away fivers.)

At this point I’m willing to pull ahead, go inside, and speak with a manager, or pull into a parking spot and wait while they count the drawer. I know I had it right, but at this point I don’t want this guy to get in trouble. Instead he whispers with the tee-heeing brunette, and after a minute thrusts a five out at me as if to say “Take your fuckin’ money and get out of here.”

I took it with a pleasant “Thank you,” and then leaned forward and left my parting shot: “You know, if you weren’t so concerned with talking to each other, maybe you could better pay attention to the denominations people hand you.”

Part of me wants to call/write and complain, but then part of me wants to leave it be; sooner or later he’ll end up stiffing someone with a much shorter temper than I.

Dairy Queen hates me. But that's okay, I hate them too.

Argh, my local Dairy Queen sucks. It's also the only ice cream shop on the route to my workplace. Having a bad week, I decided to get me a little pickmeup for the long shift ahead. Sure, an oreo blizzard doesn't make a great breakfast food and icecream isn't the best way to cope, but what the hell, y'know?

They'd just opened and I was the only customer, but it looked like they were doing prep work still. I can dig that, I'm working in food service and not everything is ready right away when you first open sometimes. So I asked one of the kids about the wait-time for my blizzard, I was told ten minutes. I was cool with that so I flopped down at one of the tables to wait it out.

But then I overheard one of the girls whisper as she gestured to me, "Like she needs it, look at her."

The second girl politely replied, "Maybe she's pregnant."

Ouch. Just... ouch.

Okay, yeah, I've gained a good twenty pounds since highschool--stopped going to the gym and got a beer belly going because of my obvious lack of good sense in food... Perhaps my choice of clothes wasn't the best, because the keg that was once a six pack hung over the belt a bit (though it was covered decently by my shirt!)... But damn, did she have to point it out, even if it was to her coworker?

I called over to cashier-boy that he didn't need to make the blizzard, I was going. So I left sans blizzard. And sans refund, too, because I was just too mortified.

EDIT: Thank you guys, all of you. Man, I really appreciate suggestions and offers of help and all the sweet things you said. I won't be asking for compensation, I'll swallow my pride and the cash, but I will write a letter to corporate in hopes this will be addressed. Thanks again, you all rock so hardcore.