fairyrune: (Reepicheep)
I just had the most horrific "customer service" experience in my life, and I would like to share it with you all.

My mother and I decided to go to Woodbury Commons in Central Valley, New York, to do some shopping today. We were having a quite lovely day, until we went into the L'Eggs/Hanes/Bali/Playtex outlet.

That was the end of that.

Rich needed some new underwear, and I needed some stockings. I took a three-pack of men's boxer briefs off a rack labeled $8.99. All of the racks of this style underwear were labeled with that price. I picked out a packet of stockings, and went to pay for my items.

At the register, the underwear rang up $10.99. I pointed this out to the cashier, and she said that it was probably just a mistake. I paid for my purchase, went to the back of the store, and took the rack with the price label off of the wall. I brought this back up to the front of the store, and asked to speak to a manager.

The "manager," (more likely a supervisor of some sort,) came out, and I explained the situation. I showed her the rack, with two packs of underwear on it still, and told her that I had been charged an extra two dollars, and would like a refund of the difference.

That's when things got out of hand.

She told me that the $8.99 price was probably a mistake, and that the $10.99 price in the register was correct. They wouldn't refund my money.

I explained to her that it was their mistake, not mine, and that meant they were responsible for rectifying it. Still, she refused to refund my money. "It's just two dollars, it's not a big deal," she said.

At that point, I said to myself, "Fuck this shit. They're not getting any of my money." I told her I wanted to return my items, and I called to my mother to put her stuff down. When I explained to Mom why we wouldn't be shopping there anymore, she tossed her items over the counter.

The so-called "manager" interpreted this as my mother throwing the nice, soft, bags of pantyhose at her, and threatened to call security. Not wanting to cause more trouble, my mother left the store.

She was so busy trying to get the phone and call security, that she was taking forever to do my return. I kept saying, "Just give me my money back, and I'll go."

I shouted to the rest of the customers that they shouldn't shop there, as they don't honor their advertised prices.

This girl was terribly rude to me. I asked for her name, as none of the employees were wearing name tags, and she said, "I don't NEED to tell you my name." When I told her we wouldn't be shopping there any more, she said she didn't care; it wasn't going to affect her.

Oh, BOY, did she ever get that wrong!

I walked out of the store, sat down on a bench, pulled out my cell phone, and called the corporate number on my receipt. The girl on the phone was very helpful and apologetic, and said that a supervisor would be getting back to me.

When I receive that phone call, I am going to demand, in writing, an apology for the way I was treated, and a promise that they will honor their labeled prices from now on. I'm also tempted to ask that the employee in question be fired. No one talks to me that way and gets away with it.

They have one week. If I do not hear from them by then, I am calling the newspapers, the news stations, the Better Business Bureau, and anyone else who will listen. I will tell everyone I know to tell everyone they know to never shop there again. In my free time, I will go to Woodbury Commons and hand out fliers telling people not to shop there, with my story printed on them.

I will not let this stand.
fairyrune: (Default)

(Next month, new copier.  Next month, new copier.) 
fairyrune: (Default)
I am really sick and tired of the recent wave of grumpy zombie-patrons we've had at faire. You know, the ones that walk around as if they're in some sort of trance, and don't respond to any efforts to play with/entertain/sell them things/say hello. The ones that walk right by me when I try to sell them a rose, without so much as a "No, thanks," and occasionally, shockingly, fail to even notice me. ('Cause, ya know, I don't stand out at all.) The ones that get annoyed when an actor tries to engage them in witty repartee.

I know I'm not the only one who has noticed the sudden increase in this phenomenon.

Granted, they're fun and easy to mock, but there's only so many times one can comment on the zombie-like nature of the clearly living patrons before it gets old. I'm sure most of you would agree with me; it's getting VERY old. I, personally, am running low on jokes. I'm sure you've all heard me begging someone to get me a chainsaw a number of times. (For the love of all that is right with the world, DO NOT ACTUALLY GIVE BUBBLES A CHAINSAW! Bad things would happen.)

These people paid twenty bucks to get in, you'd figure they'd want to, oh, have fun or something. Apparently not. Kind of makes you wonder why they're there.

You know what? I'm there, (almost) every day, working my ass off from 8.30AM until at least 7PM, and I'm still smiling! Hell, most of the time, I'm having actual FUN! EVERY DAY!

If you come to the faire, and you don't want to have fun, or buy things, or play, or see your friends, GO HOME. We're just going to spend the day making fun of you anyway, and you'll just get pissier every time that happens, so why don't you go home and sit on your ass and watch TV or something. We're all trying to make you happy in our own little ways, and you're refusing, so get the hell out.

Then, there are the morons who pay their twenty bucks for the sole purpose of getting plastered on over-priced beer. GO TO A FUCKING BAR. Granted, the atmosphere won't be the same, but your drunk-ass girlfriend won't rant at me about how all of my roses are dead and/or refuse to let you buy her one because it costs the same as a beer. In short, go somewhere else so you don't waste my time and piss me off. You DON'T want to piss the fairy off. Once again, you'll be teased mercilessly.

I've been toying with this idea for a couple of weeks, and I'd like to know what you all think of it.

Every time some rude asshole completely ignores my (usually adorable) efforts to sell them a rose without even acknowleding my presence, I am going to scream "ZOMBIES! 'TIS THE UNDEAD! HEEEEEEEEEEEELP!" It's common courtesy to simply say "No thanks," and those who don't comprehend that should be embarassed.

Of course, that would mean breaking my fairly-well maintained character in front of patrons.



Aug. 21st, 2006 12:49 pm
fairyrune: (Default)
I just called my doctor's office. Apparently, my doctor left, and I was not notified. They also won't give me a new prescription for my allergy medication unless I come in for an appointment.

Who the fuck has time for a doctor's apointment? I AM WORKING SEVEN DAYS A WEEK, ASSHOLE.
I've been taking the stuff since I was twelve. They have my medical records.

My doctor told me that since I'm young and healthy, I didn't have to have a checkup for three years. It's been two. I told that to them, and they said, "Well, that doctor isn't here any more."

Fuck this shit. I'm getting another fucking doctor.
fairyrune: (Default)

(Yes, the lack of punctuation was intentional. Please, my grammar lovin' friends, don't flame me.)
fairyrune: (Default)
Last night, [livejournal.com profile] pinball351 came to visit, and I had my first ever deli sandwich. It was a BLT on a roll with no mayo, for mayo disturbs me. It was wonderful. I want more.

That's about where the fun ended.

On the way home, 17A was closed. We got lost somewhere in Monroe, because the directions the cop gave us were not exactly accurate. I was tired. I was grumpy. I wanted to go to bed. Got home later than I wanted to.

Woke up with the alarm this morning. SO didn't want to get up. Rich told me I was drunk. He says very strange things when he wakes up, then doesn't remember them. My toothbrush tasted like hairspray. WTF???

On the way to work, another road was closed, so I had to take the long way around. Bah!

So now I'm sleepy, but if I have another cup of coffee, I'll be sleepy AND jittery. And it's like a freaking meat locker in here.

Is it bed time yet?
fairyrune: (Default)

fairyrune: (Default)
but I'm not. Want to know why? Fireworks. Yes, you heard right. Fireworks. About a mile from my house, in the bay.

No offense to [livejournal.com profile] lovethescythe, but I really want to punch a pyrotechnician right now...
fairyrune: (Default)
I have an assignment to use an HTML table to put a picture of a piece of art known as "The Tiger" back together. Why is the g'd damn front leg not where it's supposed to be?????
http://beard.dialnsa.edu/~lesliefay/tiger.html (helps if I put in the right address...)

Comment if you need more info.
fairyrune: (Default)
I've been giving my assistant manager alot of slack lately. He needs knee surgery, so he's in a ton of pain. His girlfriend, who also happens to work at my store (I could've told you that would end badly) dumped him, and he's just not getting over it. So he's been pretty damn grumpy lately, and he hasn't really been doing his job. Whatever. I'm nice, I try to give him some credit.

However, today was it. No more. He went too far this time.

He scheduled me to work 7-1 today. Normally I work 10-2 or 4, depending on whether I have class. Coming in at 7 means the mall is opening early.

I get to work, and E's there cleaning the horrible mess from the night before. I start helping her, and we start wondering when the manager is going to show up. Finally, we call her. She asks what we're doing there so early. We call mall security, and guess what? That's right, normal hours are currently in operation! So we look at the schedule. The mall hours are correct on it, but our hours are early. For the entire week. Idiot. He caught and fixed the mistake for Thursday, but not for the rest of the week.

Needless to say, I'm pissed. Who likes getting up before the sun when they don't have to?

I've done this kid so many favors over the past two months, you wouldn't believe. I felt bad for him. But this isn't his first screw up, and if I did my job the way he's doing his, I'd be long gone. Him being nasty to practically everyone for no reason isn't helping his case.

There's talk of need of a new A.M. by the end of the month.
fairyrune: (Default)
barely. In the past two months, we've had five people quit at my store. That means more hours and money for me, but less life. I'm hardly ever at my house, and when I am there, I'm glued to the computer doing schoolwork. Family? Who are they?

I'm actually taking a brief break from one of the stupidest writing assignments I've ever had to do. It's for a course called "Accidental Realities: Writing Experimental Fiction." Sounds cool, no? No! It is neither accidental, nor experimental. It's all very forced and contrived, and the teacher is a pain in my ass.

Our final assignment it to write a cut-up story. We are to do this by photocopying one page from three of our favorite books, cutting the lines apart and in half, and pulling them out of a hat (or in my case, a pot) at random, and writing a story around them. It's due by the end of the week.

You may say that this is both accidental and experimental, but it isn't. We have to end up with a story that makes sense, beginning, middle and end, the whole deal, in less than a week. For me, this sort of thing would take time. I could probably do it very well had I the appropriate amount of time, but I don't, so I'm going to half ass it.

So here I sit, with a pot full of bits of paper in front of me, expecting not to do wonderfully in this course, but not to fail.

My other courses are going quite well, so I'm not going to rant about them.

I miss TV, and I love my boyfriend.

That is all.

Possible Tales from the Hallmark to come at a later date. Boy, do I have some good ones!
fairyrune: (Default)
"Alexander, Leslie, and Richard are in a car, each with cell phones. If they are called, but do not answer, then the car is simultaneously devoid of and full of occupants, as per Schroedinger's theory."-[livejournal.com profile] chairlegoftruth

I've had a rather tense day. I've been trying to accomplish things, but other things seem bent on getting in my way. Therefore, if you are not Rich [livejournal.com profile] aziraphalesshop or Snowball, (or apparently [livejournal.com profile] charilegoftruth [in small amounts], who we seem to have adopted,) I don't particularly want to socialize with you. No offense.

In other news, hot chocolate with a shot of Creme de Menthe is rather relaxing, and tastes like a Thin Mint.
fairyrune: (Default)
What can I say? This weekend was the most insane I have ever experienced at faire. So many emotional highs...and lows. Where should I start? I suppose the beginning is as good a place as any...

First of all, Jolene [livejournal.com profile] lovethescythe was visiting from Mickey town this weekend. She was thoroughly pounced upon the moment I laid eyes on her. Sorry about almost crushing you to death, but you did say you wanted bear hugs. :)

Friday night I had gone to visit [livejournal.com profile] thecoddesslives at her place of employment. She told me that I would be getting a big surprise at faire this weekend, but she wouldn't tell me what. Rich [livejournal.com profile] aziraphalesshop knew what it was, but he wasn't going to give me the slightest hint. I was talking to Dark Angel [livejournal.com profile] euph0ra about what it might be Saturday morning, and I mentioned that I thought it could be M!ke [livejournal.com profile] defectivesoul coming home from Air Force duty in Spain, even though (last I heard) he wasn't due home until October. Well, I must be psychic, because someone snuck up on me later that day. M!KE'S HOME!!!!!!!!!!!! I totally freaked out and started squealing and pouncing on him. I got many comments about my sudden break in character, but I don't care. It was a special occasion, and well deserved. Of course, he very nearly gave me a heart attack, and I immediately pummeled Rich for not telling me, but YAAAAAAAAAAAAY! Welcome home, [livejournal.com profile] defectivesoul. We're glad to have you back!

Sunday was wonderful and horrible all at once. I'll start with the wonderful, because that happened first.
You are reading the journal of the new Mistress of the Fae Guild at NYRF! That's right folks, I'm in charge of a guild. Mitch had the wonderful idea that since no one's really doing anything with the guild at the moment, I should be put in charge. He talked to Lars, and they cleared it with [livejournal.com profile] firebow, and poof! I'm Mistress Fae. I'm going to make a valiant attempt at getting the guild back on its feet and more organized. Next weekend I'm going to Lundegaard and getting the list of the current members.

Now, most of you have already heard from me what the horrible was. Instead of repeating myself here, I am going to let Rich [livejournal.com profile] aziraphalesshop tell the story in his own words in his journal, when he's ready.

I will, however say this:
Anyone who says that Rich is anything other than innocent is grossly mistaken. I am asking all of you to please, please, PLEASE correct anyone who says he was involved in any wrongdoing. Rich is the most honorable, trustworthy, and honest man I have ever known. As my friends, and as his friends, I hope that you will help prevent people from thinking otherwise.

Monday made me feel much better about the events of Sunday. Thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone who was there for me, even if it was only to listen to the truth. It makes me feel wonderful to know that I have people I can depend on to be there for me when I need support. I hope you all know I'm here for you too.

Anyway, I finally bought my Starfire on Monday. It's the 24 inch light sword, and they wrapped the handle in purple leather for me. So pretty...I have named her Serena.

We sold out of roses rather early. I was done with my basket completely by about four o'clock. After that I ran around saying goodbye to everyone and making sure all of Rich's friends got up to date information on the situation. ([livejournal.com profile] mynock25, I'm sorry I didn't get to talk to you!) After that, I went home. After changing clothes, Rich and I played swords on my front lawn. Serena handles beautifully, but I have a long way to go before I know enough to actually wear her regularly. We scared my neighbors, and my grandparents, who happened to be visiting.

Another big thank you goes out to [livejournal.com profile] thecoddesslives and [livejournal.com profile] goodbyesnothing. Dinner was fun! I think we both needed to get out with friends who weren't involved in the stupidity in any way shape or form. ::hugs::

Thus ended the insanity of this Black Monday weekend. It keeps getting crazier every year...

PS-[livejournal.com profile] firebow, I'm really sorry I didn't get to talk to you about the guild. I got back to the grove right after you had left to go home. Drop me an e-mail when you get a chance.

That's all folks!
fairyrune: (Default)
My father is *finally* installing central air conditioning in our house. For over three years, I've waited, and it's finally happening! However, my father has become even more wildly inconsiderate while doing the work.

Case in point: Rich [livejournal.com profile] aziraphalesshop and I were asleep downstairs in the rec room on the futon one morning. (This is where we sleep when he stays over.) My dog, Snowball, had opened the door so she could come in and lay down. Dad came busting in at ten to nine. He claimed that he didn't know we were there because the door was open, then proceeded to insist that we vacate the room because he had to work there.

Ok, fine. No problem. We went up to my room and snuggled up in my bed. Not ten minutes later Dad was banging on my door, demanding that we get up because he had to work in my room, too. (I must mention at this point that the rec room and my room are not only on different floors, they're on opposite sides of the house.) I grudgingly agreed; we may have needed more sleep, but we did have errands to run.

We were about to leave when my father called me upstairs. For this part of my tale to make sense, you must understand that part of the air conditioning tubing is running down through the left side of my closet. I cleaned off the shelves on that side months ago. Many pairs of shoes are waiting for me in Rubbermaid containers in my basement. That was all he had asked me to do.

Anyway, as we were about to leave, my father called me upstairs, because he needed me to remove all of my clothing from the closet, and clean off the top shelf. For a number of years, the top shelf of my closet has been home to approximately fifty carefully arranged and displayed stuffed animals. I had no idea what to do with these. Had I been given a few months notice as for the other shelves, I would have been able to find a temporary home for these creatures of plush. But no. I was given ten minutes notice, so they were dumped uncerimoniously on my bed.

On the upside, I found eighteen dollars in a Winnie the Pooh changepurse that I didn't know I had.

I now have half of my top closet shelf available to me. The stuffed animals are piled messily on it until the rest of the shelf can be altered and re-installed. Once again, had I been given sufficient notice, I would have been able to store them somewhere more appropriate and organized.

I now ask you to recall the beginning of this tale, at which time Rich and I were asked to leave the rec room. My father did absolutely no work in that room that day. None.

My tale does not even compare to that of my brother, however. He was told the night before the work was scheduled to happed that he needed to clean out his closets. When it wasn't done when Dad needed it, he pulled everything out of Steven's closets in a most disgraceful manner and left it in a pile in the middle of the floor. Steven has now declared his room a "Dad Free Zone."
fairyrune: (Default)
Rich [livejournal.com profile] aziraphalesshop took me to Dave & Buster's for my first time the other night. The little hostess girl checked his ID, then said "You have to be twenty five to bring her in here." She didn't even bother to ask for my ID, she just assumed I was under age. I showed her my ID as Rich said "She's twenty one." She said "Oh, ok." Not even an apology.

Now, I know I look younger than I actually am. I have come to terms with this, and I'm fine with it. It's not like I can do anything about it anyway. However, it's this girl's job to check ID's. What if I was eighteen, but I looked twenty six? I have a friend who's a make up artist. He can make anyone look any age.

The thing that pissed me off more than her inncorrect assumption was that she didn't even bother to apologize. Rude people bother me.
fairyrune: (Default)
So I have to write a term paper for my stupid Writing Therapy course. The topic? "Writing is the best therapy." 2500-3000 words.
I thought this entire course was bullshit. I got absolutely nothing but frustration out of it. The teacher was an idiot. It seemed like the rest of the class actually needed therapy, and were using the course as such.

I don't need therapy. I need three credits. I don't think writing is the best therapy, especially not talking to an imaginary bird in your head for an hour.

How the hell am I supposed to write 2500 words about how writing therapy is wonderful when I hate it?
fairyrune: (Default)
[livejournal.com profile] aziraphalesshop is plotting something for a week from tomorrow. He won't tell me what it is. It's driving me BONKERS!


Jul. 1st, 2003 11:12 pm
fairyrune: (Default)
I'm hot. And sticky. We were supposed to have central air this year, but due to *someone* being ridiculously irresponsible, I'm suffering in the heat. Anyone want to switch houses with me?

Also, I just realized that today was the application deadline for the New School. I hope my transcript got there on time. Now all there is to do is cross my fingers, pray, and hope.
fairyrune: (Default)
Ever feel like going out into the middle of the woods and screaming?


fairyrune: (Default)

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