Friday, June 12, 2015

     Ok. I know I’m not the most savvy tech person in the compound, but I spend a considerable amount of time using various technical applications and devices on a daily basis. Mr. Wonderful and I recently made the mistake of applying for a new credit card for the sole purpose of earning miles for travel. We knew it was too good to be true, and after four calls to the 800 number, I am in need of a vodka shot at 8:33 a.m.

     When I tried to put in my information on the online banking, the box for the year of my birth did not include my birth year. I thought to myself, “Great! They don’t go back that far.” That was not the issue, however, according to Beverly, the nice lady in Saudi Arabia who was helping me. She said, “I know it jumps around, doesn’ it?” “Yes,” I replied. “It goes from 1995 to 1963 to 1984.” “You have to use the down arrow on your computer,” she continued. “You wouldn’t know that.” No shit. Why don’t they tell you that, or better yet, make the process user friendly and set it up so it doesn’t jump around? Hello. 

     Then after going through the whole process with her, I noticed after hanging up that the due date was only one week after I’d received my card. Lovely. So I called back, and she said, “I know it says, June 20, but it’s really July 20th.” I guess I should have known that the information on the website wasn’t up to date. Hello.

     I opened the liquor cupboard, but thought that the vodka shot might disrupt my morning workout, so I resisted and went back to the screen. Realizing that the July 20th payment date was five days before payday, I had to call again to see if I could have it changed to the 25th. Joy. This time, Raoul from Siberia answered the phone, and in his impeccable English said, “Give me a minute.” Yeah, a minute, right. Surprisingly, he came back quickly, apologizing for the long wait, and said, “We can only change the date beginning in August.” Joy #2. By this time, I wasn’t into asking for his supervisor, I just sucked it up and said, “Fine.” 

     It is 8:40 a.m., and I’m a wreck. All this to get on a plane with 213 greasy, sweats-clad, taco-carrying families--for free? Nothing is free. Why am I so stupid to think it would be? Duh.