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September 12th, 2007

You gave me an estimate that is skyrocket. Great. The insurance company told me to find someone. Cool. I did. I'm sure the estimate is only skyrocket because I'm a cheap bitch. ...and I know how much chainlink costs. And those poles. You want over $700 in labor for maybe 3 hours of work? Screw you. but since you're the people that insurance referred me to... well. *shrug*

But you, dear estimate giver... you are an older man-older than my father actually. Yes, dear, we live in a military town... but please keep in mind, not all of us military wives are hard-up sluts that desperately 'need some' as everyone seems to think we are (a case of 'a few bad apples ruins the whole barrel', I'm sure). Yes, my dear sweetheart is overseas. Yes, he actually IS in Iraq. Yes, it sucks. Yes, he will be home soon. 'Soon' could constitute a year. Soon could constitute a month. Yes, I do have people living with me. ...And several guns, knives, a trained guard dog that will 'kill' at the word and I was taught how to defend myself in hand-to-hand sort of situations from a young age. I am very well set, along with my alarm system. Your ass would be crazy to break into my house, and if you attempted to harm me, you would be very dead.

Dear estimate giver, after my thorough smiling, good-customer-service type talk, mixed with dark threats just in case you're some kind of damned scammer that cases people's houses and decides to rob them, I decided to ask you how high my fence is. I honestly could not tell if it was 4 or 5 ft. Length I can measure. Height I am shit at.

'Boob height' is not an appropriate response! Nor is your sudden interest in telling me you're a 'boob man' while staring intently at my WELL COVERED (I have a tank top on. My neckline covers my collarbone all the way around. This shirt is also very loose-I hate revealing and tight things. I feel like a whore in them (even V-necks) and I can't breathe. So I feel like a streetwalker who needs new lungs. Not something I delight in) chest and making groping motions.

Congratulations, dear estimate giver. I played along, twisting and turning your train of thought. I knew what you would expect... so I changed tactics. I turned into the little redneck blue-collar girl that just turned you right on, didn't it? You're old enough to be my father-hell, my grandfather (I'm 20)-and you'd totally pound me into the dirt if I asked you to. Hell, if I were gonna use your company for the fence, you'd probably do it for free if I DID let you do such things.

The neat thing is, dear estimate giver-The insurance company told me to contact you. They did not tell you I was contacting you. I played the sweet, innocent little lonely girl... and you attempted to give me an estimate almost twice (AND YOU ADMITTED IT!) what it would actually cost so I could 'buy myself somethin' nice. *grin*'.

Dear Estimate giver. This is what I wanted you to do. I kept that extrodinary one... and I intend to have someone else out to give me a REAL estimate.

I can't wait until the insurance company that recommended you finds out that you're nearly molesting girls that are barely legal on their own property, as well as gouging them out of money-which is the entire reason I played along, so I could fuck you over in ways you could never imagine possible.

Here's hoping you enjoy your court date,
That girl who was practicing her foot placement for a certain annoying kick, lied, said it was ballet, and snickered inwardly when you grinned and said 'Well! you can show me some of that!'.

(Had such things not resulted in you being hospitalized, dear estimate giver, I would have happily beaten the ever loving shit out of you for trying to do such things. You asshole.)

I really just don't get this.

Some of you may recall a rant I posted about a month ago about the difficulties of getting regular, vanilla, plain telephone service to an address after a move. (Do not want internet, do not want caller ID, do not want bundle, do not want cable or cellphone or sexual favours. Just want telephone. Basic, plain telephone.)

I finally got them to cancel the internet they fraudulently signed me up for. Here's the kicker:

They tried to talk me into staying with them by offering me... a month of free internet!

What makes a company think that the best response to someone who has had enough of pathetic service, roundabout customer support and a thoroughly unsatisfying experience is to attempt to bribe them back by offering them the exact same product they've spent the last month trying to avoid? How about comping me the six hours I've spent on the telephone talking to "customer service agents" who are apparently told that "customer service" means "sell bundles like they're made of cocaine"? Gah.

McDonalds...

My little sister called me yesterday and told me that we (as in my family) are now boycotting McDonalds. We love McDonalds - I love McDonalds, but I'm going to have to stand beside her on this issue. BTW, whenever I read posts that are completely "out there," I don't really believe them. I've worked in customer service (at Burger King and restaurants) for five years, so I tend to side with the employee... not now.

My little sister went to McDonalds to get "dinner." She ordered a double cheeseburger, a hot and spicy mcchicken, a fruit parfait, and an ice cream sundae. The cashier immediately took out the parfait and the sundae and set it on the counter. My little sister said she waited 25 minutes for the sandwiches. 25 minutes is a long time - personally, I would have asked for a refund prior to it, but she's kind of a ditz. She said the guy who walked in behind her hadn't even been able to order yet. This McDonalds does tend to push their drive-thru and neglect their walk-ins. I've walked out because of it before, so I believe it. My mom and Erin have walked out before because the crew will look right at you and do nothing except take drive-thru orders.

Her order came up - as i said - it took 25 minutes. She picked up the sundae and it had melted. The guy behind her (whose order still hadn't been taken) laughed at her and told her to ask for a new one. He must have seen the look of shock on her face! She asked for a new one and the lady made a huge scene out of it. She grabbed it from her hands, threw it down, and handed her another one... this one only half full. The thing is that when she handed it to Erin, she set it down on the counter so hard that it fell over and the stuff fell out. The lady scooped it back into the container using her hands. Yea, talk about health code violation.

My little sister started to cry. She's 17, but she is a ditz... even she will tell you that. She picked up the phone and called my mom. My mom told her to give them the food back and ask for a complete refund. She did so. The lady asked her why and asked her, "is it really worth it, you only ordered off the dollar menu." Uh, yea, it's worth it. She got the refund. At that point, the guy behind her said that he was going to Burger King - he got his family and left.

My mom called the store and asked to speak to the manager. The lady who answered the phone asked whether or not my mom wanted the male or female manager. Like it makes a difference. As it turns out, the lady who answered the phone was the lady Erin had been served by and guess what - she was the manager. My mom at that point asked for their corporate manager or number. The lady told her that she didn't know who that was... or the number. She managed to find "the number." My mom called "the number" and got nothing. She left a message on McDonald's website.

A man called tonight about the situation. My mom said he sounded very professional, so he was probably somebody fairly high up. The number that my mom was given was the number to the FAX machine. Did the woman not think my mom was serious? Like Erin said, she worked at Burger King (wow, keeping it in the family, right) and she knew who the owner was and his number.

Okay, 25 minutes! Then the lady is completely rude and makes my little sister feel bad about ordering off the dollar menu. Hello! It's McDonalds - most people do. Erin works across the street too, so she has learned to spend her money well. It is just insane. They did try to correct the problem, but as my mom said - we'll just go to Sonic. If you think that's not a big deal - fine, but I ate at McDonalds in the morning and evening when I was there... that all adds up.

EDIT: So, I think there are a few of you who don't believe me. I don't know why, but it doesn't bother me. I think that the quality of a restaurant depends on where you live. I live in the middle of nowhere - people in my town are generally unhappy. Crying is unbelieveable? People cry when bad things happen to them - sure, getting bad service isn't the end of the world, but everybody is different. My little sister and I have worked in fast food and restaurants since we were 15. We know what good service is... and we know what bad service is. It's made us great customers (good tippers and saying please and thank you), so there is no excuse for the bad service she received. I use my LJ as a "private" journal and to read communities. I've maybe posted once or twice in the past year or two here. I have no reason to lie. If all your fast food experiences have been so positive that you don't believe me, then I hope that "good luck" never changes for you.

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