Measure T and The Crazy Lady

I recently had an encounter with what I believe is the world's angriest woman. It was super fun....

I was recruited by our town Librarian to campaign for a measure that is being presented to the voters in June. This measure would renew an existing tax (1/8 of a cent) that currently provides 87% of our county's library funding. Sounds pretty important, right? I thought so too. I agreed because not only do I love to read, but my kids love to read. I feel that I can swing 1/8 of cent to fund the library and really, if the library isn't getting the money, you better believe that the government would not only refuse to give it back, they would find something else to fund with it. Maybe more private jets.

Anyway.

Part of my responsibility was to walk different neighborhoods, knocking on doors and making sure people knew about the measure and handing out literature. Now, I really dreaded doing this, not because I don't like talking to people because I do. Ask my kids, I talk to everyone. It's a running joke in my family that I make friends everywhere I go...waiting in line at the grocery store, shopping at Target. I figure, if you're just standing there waiting you might as well have a good time doing it and since making snide remarks to (or about) strangers tends to get frowned upon, I get chatty instead.

Moving on.

I fully admit that I'm one of those people that will do just about anything to avoid opening the door to people I don't know (or sometimes to people that I do know, but tell. Shh.), so it didn't hurt my feelings at all if people ignored my friendly little knock. I left my little paper under the mat and moved on. No harm, no foul. Until I arrived at The Crazy Lady's house. This was one of those times when her house didn't give any clues as to the menace inside. It was nicely kept, a happy little welcome sign on the door. Inviting, right? Not so much.

She answered, I introduced myself and told her briefly why I was there. Things like, this tax provides 87% of the library funds and if it doesn't pass, the library faces massive closures. As in most, if not all the libraries will close. She then said, "I'm voting no."

I admit, I chuckled because I thought she was joking. Really, who would vote to close libraries other than people who kick puppies and name their kids Adolf.

I was soon put in my place, because not only was she serious, she was so serious that she kept me on her porch for 5 minutes while she ranted about how, "The government should have gotten all those assholes out of office years ago and then we wouldn't be in this mess. And what are we doing supporting illegal immigrants anyway? All those damn liberals have screwed us up and taken our money and I'm not going to give one more cent for them to clean up their messes!"

And then came the real shocker...

"I'm a published California historian and I donate books all the time to the library! So no, I'm not voting for this!"

Wow. Wow. So, let me get this straight...You're an author and you what, don't like libraries? You don't want people to have access to your books? You're against reading?

Intrepid readers, you should be so proud. I pasted an enchanting smile on my face and said, "Thank you for your time." and walked away.

People like her need a warning sign. Or some poison in her coffee. Either way.

In which I engage an automated phone system

I wonder, is it normal to engage in an argument with an automated phone system?

No?

Dammit.

I called a financial institution this morning, not my favorite thing to do. I was immediately greeted with a female voice that was a) too damn chipper and b) probably meant to be soothing but never fails to sound like nails on a chalkboard to me. Let's reminisce, shall we?

Bank voice (Let's call her Myrtle): Tell me, why are you calling today?

Me: Operator

Myrtle: Iiittt sounds like you want to speak with a representative, is that correct?

Me: Yes.

Myrtle: In order to direct your call, I need to know why you're calling.

Me: Gah! Alright, payments.

Myrtle: Alright (BTW, she sounds like I'm her new best friend and she's sooooo glad she's helping me), would you like to hear about your last payment?

Me: No.

Myrtle: Hmmm (shit you not, she says hmmm), tell me, why are you calling?

Me: Operator!

........................

This is when we repeat the entire first section of the conversation not once but twice while I angrily press "0" repeatedly.

Myrtle: Iiittt sounds like you want to speak with a representative, is that correct?

Me: Yes! Dumbass phone system.

Myrtle: I'm sorry, I couldn't quite catch that. Would you like to speak to a representative?

Me: DUH!!!!! YES!!!!!


I finally got who I needed and was able to chew out the appropriate person (yay me!). But it left me wondering, what does it say about me that I willingly engaged with an automated system that couldn't care less what I say and furthermore won't be properly chagrined after I fix her wagon?

Nothing good, I bet.

In which I get taken advantage of, and not in a good way

I was robbed today. Now, don't worry...it's not what you think.

As I previously mentioned, I am a part-time student finishing a degree I should have taken care of years and years ago (let this be a lesson to you kiddies, the trick is not just to go to college, it's to FINISH college). Anyway, my next class starts next week and I need a textbook. I learned my lesson early on not to buy textbooks from the college bookstore. They are extremely overpriced and as far as I'm concerned, the bookstore practices highway robbery. Let me 'splain...

You can search for your books online through the college website. When you find your book, you can choose to buy it new or used. Keep in mind, the used price isn't that much better than the new price, but hey every dollar counts! Naturally, I chose the used price and clicked the magic button, "add to cart". Have I mentioned how much I love online shopping? Think about it, you can shop in your jammies and no one looks at you funny. However, if you live in my town you can shop in your jammies and people don't look at you funny...but that's beside the point. Back to reasons why I like shopping online. No crowds or lines or obnoxious people. You don't have to worry about the previous user of your shopping cart or using a public bathroom. You don't have to drive anywhere or worry about store hours. But...I digress.

Where was I...right, "add to cart". So I add the used book to my cart and choose the option to pay at the bookstore because I prefer to pay in cash. Sounds pretty good, right? Just wait. I arrive at the bookstore to pay for and pick up my used book, only to be told that they didn't have any used books and I had to buy a new one. What??? The funny thing is, she said it with a completely straight face, like this was the most reasonable thing in the world. I replied, "But I ordered a used book, the website offered me one."

"Right, well we don't have one."

You're fucking kidding me.

Since I was totally screwed already I went ahead and paid for the new book, told her and anyone else with ear-shot how I felt about her and the damn bookstore and left. When I got home, I immedately went online and looked in the bookstore for the textbook I had just bought. What do you think I saw? "Buy this book USED and save!" Huh. Fancy that.

Which brings me to today. After that illuminating experience, I have not bought from the college bookstore, preferring to save lots and lots of money buying them from other websites. But for this coming class, the college has gotten just a little smarter. This text is actually published by the college, thereby forcing you to buy it from them and prohibiting you from re-selling it anywhere else. Quite a racket, right?

So, I was taken advantage of today by a little old lady who didn't look like she would harm a cockroach. She smiled sweetly at me while I wrote a check for an obscene amount of money. All the while I grumbled under my breath because I knew they had me right where they wanted me. BOHICA