Dec 29 2007

Drako the Dragon

Published by at 10:27 pm under The Daily Grind

I’m turning into a crabby old lady like my third-grade teacher, Drako the Dragon, who was a doughy mass of white except for dark, dark eye bags. Lately I look like her, eyewise.

I’ll tell you about her later, if you ask.

I don’t know why she was so nasty, but I know one thing that always sets me off: when I have to spend a bunch of time on the phone following up on things I didn’t even start. I had to call American Express tonight. Yesterday they inexplicably blocked my card when Lulu tried to renew her membership to World of Warcraft.

“Hello!” The obsequious Amex guy enthused. “With whom do I have the pleasure of speaking tonight?”

[Actually, he said “With whom do I have the pleasure of speaking with,” but let’s not get too fussy.]

Pleasure?” I barked. “We’ll see about that.”

That was so unpleasant I startled myself. I might not have been in such a venomous mood were it not for that computer-generated voice I’d just been arguing with.

Please enter or say your account number, followed by the “pound” sign.

Operator.

I think you said you want to talk to an operator. If so, press “one.”

[I did.]

If you’d like to talk to an operator, please enter your account number or…

Operator!

Okay. Before we connect you with an operator we need to ask you a few questions. First, what is your account number…

It was an impasse. I swear, even the computer voice was starting to sound annoyed.

My young agent suspected they’d blocked my card because of a charge “that was not typical of your normal spending patterns.”

My normal WHAT?!? Oh, I know I shouldn’t be surprised to learn that they look for patterns in what I do with their card. But really: how dare they try to predict my behavior — I can’t even do that… and then penalize me if I deviate from their projections!

I stayed on simmer for 15 minutes while Mr. Pleasure looked into the matter. Unfortunately he found no enlightening notes on my account information, and the “securities” department was closed. “I can’t tell what the problem is. Call back tomorrow,” he advised, “so your account doesn’t get suspended.”

This is so stupid. I hate stupid. Stupid makes me really, really cranky.

Good stupid night.

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