Umm...Fire?

In Tuesday's post, I mentioned that if I ever set the oven on fire again, I'd tell you.  Well, this prompted a few people to ask, "Again?"  Implying there had been a first instance.  So even though it happened 5 years ago, well before I turned 30, I suppose it's a good enough story to share with you here.

When Dave and I were still dating, we were long distance for about 2 years.  We would make the 7 hour drive to visit about once a month or so.  This included one Thanksgiving weekend that I came to visit Dave.  Since Thanksgiving is a great bunch days off in a row, perfect for cookie baking, I decided I would make a few batches during my visit.

Dave had moved into the house about a year prior, and while he's pretty handy in the kitchen, he hadn't really used the electric oven all that often.  Less than a handful of times in the year.  In I march, ready to bake, and really gave the oven a workout, having it on for a few hours while I bakeds batch after batch of cookies.  Busying myself in the kitchen, Dave was in the living room watching TV or playing video games.  I had several cooling racks full of cookies, having just completed a batch of Peanut Butter Cookies, and just starting on a recipe of Oatmeal Cranberry.  My first two sheets of oatmeal cookies were in the oven when the timer went off and  I opened the oven door.

There was a flame.

In the electric oven.

So I did what any logical person would do.  I shut the door.  I stood there for a second and thought, "Surely that wasn't a flame."  Assuming the flour had officially gone to my head, I chalked it up to me seeing things, and opened the oven door again.

Nope, there's still a flame in there.

Me: S#!T!

Dave: (no response)

Me: S#!T! S#!T! S#!T!

Dave: (no response)

See, here's the thing.  Even at this early stage in our relationship, and only seeing each other for a few days each month, Dave had already become immune to my use of the word S#!T!.  Turns out I use it so frequently that when Dave would ask, "What's wrong?", my standard response was, "Nothing."  It became a new twist on crying wolf.  Only I was crying S#!T! and needed to find a way to get his attention.  So I searched my vocabulary for a word that would express the dire situation unfolding in the oven.

Me: FIRE!

Dave, boy scout and lab safety professional that he is, sprang to his feet and practically jumped over the couch.  He grabbed the fire extinguisher (I'm not sure I knew where that was) and asked where the fire was.  I opened the oven door and then immediately began opening doors and windows to blow the smoke out, sort of stunned and a little scared.  I just set my boyfriend's kitchen on fire!

I should have gotten Dave these cookies from www.sunflowerbaking.com

After the fire was out and the smoke cleared, Dave calmed me down and we went about cleaning up (all those poor, innocent, extinguished cookies) and figuring out what had happened.  Apparently at some point in the oven's life prior to Dave, someone had a messy oven episode and something had dropped onto the heating element in the oven (the black oval shaped thing on the bottom of the oven that turns red when it gets hot).  Whatever the mess was got stuck on the element and was never cleaned off.  It had never been a problem before since Dave never left the oven on for that long.  But since I had the oven cranking for so many hours, eventually the goop just combusted and when it did, the element caught on fire as well, completely ruining it.

Luckily, Dave is also very handy and knows how to fix things.  This was the day before Thanksgiving. So the day after Thanksgiving, he called a local appliance store, explained what he needed and started to give the serviceman the part number.  The guy at the store actually rattled off the last few digits of the part number and said, "Yeah, I've got one of those left.  We always have a few people who need one of those the day after Thanksgiving."  

It made me feel better to know I wasn't the only one in town to set the oven on fire that weekend.

Open Letter to the Women of Boston & Cambridge

Dear budding fashionistas,

No.

No one wants to see that. No matter how skinny you are.

Last spring on TLC's What Not To Wear, Stacy London and Clinton Kelly did no less than 3 shows featuring women from the Boston area. I was surprised that they had devoted so many episodes to one region, but for these women, it was necessary.

Clearly, however, not enough of you were watching.

Each spring and each fall, the trends hit the stores and being that Boston has an inferiority complex to New York, the trends hit the streets in an attempt for the locals to feel relevant and just as hip as their Manhattan counterparts. Regardless of whether or not it makes sense. Would I prefer to wear a cute wool coat in the winter with a fun hat and fluffy scarf? Yes. But I live in reality and since I don't want to freeze my fanny off, I don a ski parka with a hood and more layers than anyone should reasonably be expected to stack on.

Speaking of fannies, that brings me to my issue for this fall: leggings.

I am not opposed to leggings, per say. I am however opposed to leggings when worn in place of pants. Leggings are similar to tights in that they are warm and adorable with the right outfit. And in that if you don't cover your hiney, you'll look like your forgot something. And that something is PANTS!

I'm not alone here. In an unofficial informal poll of friends, it was unanimous that leggings require some sort of upper body clothing with enough length to cover your derriere. Further, In Style magazine, in a recent article titled Wardrobe Transformations posted on MSN.com, noted the same thing.

It's hard for anyone to get away with flashing this much behind. You'll end up looking as though you forgot your skirt.--In Style

So, to the young woman working at the Aveda Salon in Harvard Square and the student walking across campus: Stop. Return home, put on a skirt or a longer top, and then go about your business. Because the next time I see this:


I'm going to stop you and say, "Excuse me, but I think you left your pants at home because I can see your cheeks."

Reading for Fun and Profit

Last month I read a book that was not only funny, but made me think:

• Wow, this woman hates people more than I do
• Wow, this woman is crazy
• Wow, I wonder what would happen if I did that?

The book was I See Rude People: One Woman's Battle to Beat Some Manners Into Impolite Society by Amy Alkon. Alkon takes on the idea that people who are publicly rude (talking loudly on their cell phones in close quarters, complete disregard for the people around them, complete disregard for manners and common courtesy) and tries to teach them a lesson. She's not picky abut who she battles, whether it be telemarketers, cafe cell-talkers, the guy who stole her car or big businesses. It's funny and really makes you think twice about how you'll react when someone imposes their rude behavior on you.

Alkon does two things I really enjoy. The first is what she calls blogslapping. Alkon has a blog and basically whenever she sees rude behavior (cars cutting people off or a business that gives poor service, for example) she snaps a picture and loads it to her blog or relays the bad service story. Then everyone know who the offender is and can harass en masse. Sort of like what I did when the Ann Taylor clerk lost the ability to communicate regarding coupons. The other thing is that she bills offenders for her time. Alkon actually has posted on her blog her rates for being interrupted by telemarketers. And when one calls (despite her being on the Do Not Call list), she sends them a bill for her time. She's actually sent a lot of people bills for making her take time to sort out a situation they were responsible for. Her claim is that her time is valuable and they need to recognize that either by not wasting it in the first place or paying her for it.

Which brings me to my third bullet point, what would happen if I did that. Recently I was shopping in BJ's and had a reasonably sized order. It was a Saturday afternoon, so it was very busy and I opted to use the self-scanner. I usually use the self-scanner because I find I'm faster than the check-out clerks. But this day it was a situation of--hey there's no one in that line.

I scanned all my items, and began scanning my coupons. However, the coupon box wouldn't register that my coupon had been inserted and wouldn't let me proceed. A check-out clerk came by to clear the machine, but after trying everything she knew how, it wouldn't work. She called over a second clerk. He tried many different things to no avail. Apparently the entire machine just froze. His response, "Well, just get in line and we'll scan it for you."

Me: No, you can open up a register and scan it for me because I'm not waiting in line. I've already been here an extra 10 minutes because your machine failed.

Male Clerk: Um, yeah. Um, ok. Lemme see. (Calls the first clerk over to open a register. She says ok, but as I follow her to the register, she keeps stopping to help other customers. Um, Hello!) Don't worry about it. I got this.

Female Clerk: Ok (Still helping other customers)

Me: (Confused look on face) Seriously?

Male Clerk: I got this. I got this. Go ring her up.

Female Clerk: Oh, Ok (finally walks to the register)

She scans my purchases, takes my coupons and my payment. And then I make the big ask:

Me: Thank you so much. Who can I speak to about getting reimbursed for my time since I was inconvenienced here today?

Female Clerk: Um, you can talk to Male Clerk about it.

Me: Thank you. Have a great day. (Walking over to Male Clerk) Thank you for helping me. Now, who can I speak to about getting reimbursed for my time since I was inconvenienced here today?

Male Clerk: I can call a manager for you.

Me: Thank you, I appreciate that. (Manager comes over and I explain the situation and make my request, telling her that my time is valuable. At this point, I'm thinking that a $10 or $20 store gift card would be fine. Basically I just wanted an acknowledgment that there was a customer service FAIL on their part.)

Manager: Well, she rang up your order, right. It only took another minute.

Me: No, it took another 10 minutes until they figured out they couldn't fix the machine. My time is valuable and I want to know how you're going to reimburse me for my time.

Manager: Well the machines break and we aren't responsible for that.

Me: You're not responsible? I understand that machines break, but it's certainly not my fault. Even though...

Manager: (Oh no, she didn't just interrupt me.) I'm just saying there's nothing we can do if the machines break.

Me: Excuse me. I'm still talking and I would appreciate it if you let me finish. (Manager closes her mouth and nods). Thank you. Even though the machines have problems, I shouldn't have to be inconvenienced by it. My time is valuable and I want to know how you're going to compensate me for that.

Manager: Go to the front desk and she'll extend your membership for a year. (Walks away)

Me: Thank you very much. I appreciate your time.

Who knew? I really felt justified that I shouldn't just sit back and idly let something impact my day and my plans. All I had to do what ask. And by staying calm and rational, I got a free year's membership, worth $45. Not to shabby.

Car Key Management FAIL

This weekend I went on a wonderful Girls' Weekend away to Vermont with my closest friends from college. We celebrated our collective 30th birthdays and we had some little bachelorette festivities for my friend L who will be getting married next month. It was great.

In preparation for the weekend, I'd planned to go into work late since I'd be staying late to pick up two friends from the airport before driving up to Vermont. This gave me a chance to work out, shower, have breakfast with D and get everything packed up in the morning. Additionally, I worked it out so that I could stop by the liquor store and pick up a couple of bottles of champagne before I headed to work/as soon as it opened. Because nothing says lush like walking into a liquor store at 9:00 am.

I said good bye to D, headed out the driveway and pulled into the parking lot of Kappy's before getting on the highway to Boston. My purse for the weekend was my huge bag that serves as purse/suitcase for anything I need to travel that isn't clothes, so I thought, "I'm just running into to grab two bottles of champagne, I'll just take my wallet and keys." I did just that, came back out to the car and popped the trunk. I set down my keys and wallet so I could peel the price tags off the bottles (because nothing says tacky like showing up to a party with the price tag on the bottles you brought). Then I had to wedge the bottles in the trunk so they wouldn't roll all over the place. Satisfied, I picked up my wallet and shut the trunk.

Dammit.

My keys were now locked safely in the trunk and my phone was locked safely in the car.

Dammit.

Maybe nothing says lush like having to walk back into a liquor store at 9:00 am and ask to use their phone because you locked your keys in your trunk? The idea of walking the 1/2 mile back to the house flitted across my mind to save from the embarrassment, but I didn't want to get sweaty and knew it would be faster to have D bring me the other set of keys.

So I went back in and the woman at the register was very kind. She smiled, but didn't laugh (while I was there). I called D and prayed his phone was on and he would answer. He did.

Me: Hi. I stopped at Kappy's and proceeded to lock my keys it the trunk.

D: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Me: So are you coming?

D (still giggling): Yeah, I'll be right there.

Ain't he a peach?

He did come and I rescued my keys. To D's credit, he didn't razz me too much more. But I was paranoid about locking my keys in my car for the rest of the weekend.


PS: I've got lots more fun stories from the weekend with the girls coming!

So, there's a wild dog outside...

I gotta love my job. I get to interact with business executives from all over the word who are pretty cool (generally) and share a lot about their cultures and experiences. It's also fun to share a little of my culture and experience with them. Like when some of the individuals from India comment that they've never seen snow before. Who would have thought someone would actually be excited to visit Boston in the dead of winter?

But this past month offered the best of my cultural differences stories. Due to migratory patterns, Boston (and Massachusetts in general) sees a lot of geese. Like many institutions, I work for an organization that is trying to reclaim our lawns from the goose poop which is a) disgusting and b) plentiful. One means of retaliation against the geese is the use of a coyote decoy placed in the middle of the lawn. It really doesn't work, but nonetheless, there he sits.

So one morning during my last program, I came downstairs to the classroom with my colleague only to come face to snout with the coyote decoy, standing on a table that had been intended for bagged lunches the day before. Next to the table is one of my flipcharts that I use to convey announcements to my participants. The message, presumably from the decoy, read, "Good luck today on your negotiations. It's a jungle out there. XOXO The Dingo (that ate your baby)"

(By the way, do you know what happens when you get a bunch of people together from all over the world who own their own companies and don't know the meaning of expense report? They drink...a LOT.)

So imagine my surprise when I walked into the classroom to find one of the Australians already there. He was the group's unofficial photographer, so I had to inquire:

Me: Have you taken a picture of that little display outside?

Aussie: Oh, I have pictures. I have pictures from the whole debacle of how it happened. Want to see?

Me: Um, I don't know. Do I really want to see the incriminating evidence?

Aussie (walking toward me with his camera): Oh, they aren't that bad...Well, um, I guess that one's a bit crude...um, let me see...

Me: I will not be offended if you do not want to show me. I promise.

Aussie: Well, maybe...yeah. No, I can't show you.

So I actually am still perplexed as to how this all happened, but am absolutely convinced the Australians were involved. But then, another participant (American) came in to distribute St. Patrick's Day beads (did I mention this was St. Patrick's Day? It was.) to all the desks and eventually ended up putting beads on the dingo.
So here's what else I learned that day. One of the other guys from the United Arab Emirates had a room facing the lawn where the dingo previously lived. For the first 3 days he was here, he was very concerned that this wild dog was outside on the lawn and no one was doing anything about it. By the 4th day, he'd had enough and stormed downstairs and outside to take matters into his own hands. He was going to scare that sucker away. Luckily, one of his classmates caught him and explained to him that it was fake. To his credit, he has a great sense of humor and every time he walked by the dingo next to the classroom, he had a full belly laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation.

Oh, but it gets better. The coup de grace was the next day, when the dingo was returned to it's loving home on the lawn outside our building. There is a walking path from the side near the lawn that many people use when coming from public transportation onto campus. I'd just walked into the office and was going over something with my director when a woman comes to the front desk with a concerned look on her face.

Me: Good morning. Can I help you?

Woman: Hi, I work here on campus and I was just coming off the footbridge and I don't know if you're the right person to tell, but I'm really concerned. (She looks fervently out the window toward the lawn.) There's a wild dog out there on the lawn and there's nobody, no owner or anything, nearby and I'm afraid it's going to hurt someone. It's looks really mean.

Me (I promise you, I did not laugh in her face, really, I didn't): Oh, that's the decoy to keep the geese away. It's not real.

Woman: Oh. (pause) You must get that all the time. I'm sorry. (pause) It looks so real!

Me (smiling and nodding my head): Yeah. Thanks for checking. Have a great day!

So, the geese know that it isn't real, but at least 2 people thought it was real. And I come to find out, when the woman came in with here concern, the dingo was still wearing his St. Patrick's Day beads.

Situation Made Right

Because I know so many of you were concerned, I wanted to assure you that last week I did receive my discounted skirt from Ann Taylor. And it was even more adorable that I remembered. Since I can't get the photo off the website, here is the link. So cute. And fit great. Although when I ordered it over the phone, Jessica, the manager, asked me, "You said a size 2, right?" I actually laughed out loud, hard, and said "Oh, hell no," and gave her my correct size.

So crisis averted and Ann Taylor continues to reside on the good list of retail stores I will continue to patronize. Perhaps one day I'll have a bout of bad judgment, go into a store I've vowed to never visit again, and have a story to remind me why I said I'd never visit again. You'll love that, I promise.

OMG, Someone Fixed Their Mistake!

Holy crap. I had a customer service FAIL that totally turned out good. When does that ever happen?

On Saturday I had a fabulous day of shopping. D went out to play in the dirt (er, mud) with his Jeep and I decided to finally use a pile of gift cards and coupons I'd had accumulated up. Seriously, I had gift cards to Lord & Taylor from maybe 2 years ago. It was pouring rain and I was totally looking forward to it.

I showered, got dressed, and left the house. I drove about 45 minutes to go to the really good mall (Natick Collections--it's so good, they don't even call it a mall). I got there early, which was good because with the rain, everyone wanted to park in the garage, not the lot. I parked, entered the mall in all my fabulousness (I looked great) and began my shopping spree. I won't bore you with the details, but the numbers are as follows:

4 dresses
4 skirts
7 tops
1 pair of pants
2 pairs of earrings
a bag of loot from Bath & Body Works
and miscellaneous funness from a Target stop on the way home

Total value of merchandise (also known as regular prices): $984.57
Total after in store sales: $592.53
Total paid with coupons and gift cards: $294.93
Total cash of my own I spent: $302.56

And of that cash, I actually still had the $250 I won last month on the SuperBowl Squares, so I really only spent $52.56 (which would have less, but I broke down at Target and bought a bag of jelly beans--but I digress). So yes, I am a shopping superstar, you're jealous, bow to me, yadda, yadda. But I digress--let's get to the good stuff.

When I was at the mall, I visited Ann Taylor. I heart Ann Taylor. Great work clothes, they always fit well, good quality, classic style. I had a coupon for $25 off my entire order. I browsed around the store, tried on a few items that ended up not working and finally decided on 2 shirts. They were having a sale if you bought 2 regularly priced items, you would get 25% off your order. I did not know if that would work in conjunction with my coupon, but I figured the nice lady at the counter would tell me if it didn't.

I proceeded to the counter, handed my items to the cashier and gave her my coupon. She rang me up, and in the process, the manager comes behind the counter, sees my coupon, and takes a look. The cashier gives me my total and I say, "Did you get my coupon?" She looks at it on the desk and says, "yes." Satisfied and not paying attention, I hand her my cash and the manager and I proceed to have a conversation about how she has never seen the coupon before. I said yes, I received an email asking me to take a survey, and when I was done, I was rewarded with this coupon. That was the reason for the visit, since the coupon expired the next day. We exchanged other pleasantries and I left the store, wishing them a great day.

Seriously, I had an awesome day, what with the shopping, and the me-time, and looking fantastic. I got home, and I just had to know what I got vs. what I spent, so I pulled out my receipts. And that's when I notice it. My coupon at Ann Taylor was not applied to my order. What? That was like $25 in cash. I was so upset. That coupon was kinda what spurred the entire shopping trip. I was not going to let that ruin my awesome day.

So I called the store 7 hours after I left it. I spoke to a wonderful assistant manager, Penny, who was so upset for me. She was ready to credit my card immediately. And even though she couldn't find the coupon in the register paperwork, she said she would look through the trash. The trash!! He kindness and willingness to correct the situation floored me. Unfortunately, since I paid cash, she couldn't figure out how to fix it. She promised to talk to the manager in the morning, and they would figure out how to send me a check for the difference or give me a store credit for the value of the coupon. I couldn't have been happier with Penny.

The next morning, Penny called me to say she had spoken the Jessica, the store manager, who remembered the situation and since she wasn't working that day, would call me the next day to correct the issue. Still pleased, I thanked Penny for her help and awaited my call from Jessica.

On Monday, Jessica called me and said she there was some miscommunication at the register, because my coupon wouldn't be applicable in conjunction with the sale. But since my coupon was of greater value, she could put the difference (a whopping $3.50) on a store credit for me.

[Insert part where Ms. C. starts to get firm with who is in control of this situation here]

I explained to Jessica that there wasn't a miscommunication, there was no communication since the cashier failed to explain that the two promotions would not work together. Had she mentioned it, I would have gone back and found a 3rd item on which to use the coupon. Jessica responded with a "Yeah, I guess...um, ok. We'll I don't have the coupon code though." After a lengthy conversation where I reiterated several times how I acquired the coupon, no I do not have the code, no I do not have the link to the survey I took 3 weeks ago and no, I do not have the email that invited me to take the survey, Jessica finally said she just needed to talk to someone to get the appropriate code and would call me back that day or the next. I stayed calm and told her I looked forward to hearing from her.

She did not call back that day.

She did not call back the next day.

I had just relayed this story to some coworkers who encouraged me to call and insert the ugly side of Ms. C. into the situation when I returned to my desk to a message from Jessica. She would be happy to send me an item with the discount applied. So I called her back and in 3-5 business days I should be receiving a very cute skirt at $25 off.

Frustrating as it was at times, I am actually incredibly impressed with how the situation was rectified and they worked to make me a happy customer. Could it have been handled a little more efficiently by Jessica? Probably, but overall, I'm very happy. My work is in a customer service environment with approximately 35 women who are in their target demographic, so a lot of them women I work with wear AT clothes. So, now I'm telling all my coworkers about my experience, and I'll have a fun story to share next time we have a customer service training.

So if you haven't shopped Ann Taylor lately, check out the sales. And if you need help finding good sales, I may be available. For a fee.