I may have mentioned my severely overactive imagination from time to time. It’s one of the many factors that can make it very difficult for me to turn off my mind and go. to. sleep.

Well, one of the fixes I stumbled onto within the past few months was watching Star Wars Clone Wars. Because I’ve seen the episodes several times (for the most part), it’s just kind of background noise that fixes my mind, but doesn’t hold my attention enough to keep me awake. Good mix, right?

There were a few sweet, blissful weeks of being able to fall asleep when I felt like it.

Til Netflix did the evil, evil thing.

No more Clone Wars.

Until the Disney streaming service goes live, no more sweet, harmonious cacophony of blasters, lightsabers, and spaceship engines that I had come to count on to let me slip softly into the gentle arms of Morpheus.

Cue grinding of teeth as I try to find a replacement.

Star Wars movies are no good, I stay awake to try and watch. Rebels is no good for the same reason.

I finally started working on Marvel movies… much to Rick’s amusement. You see, for one reason or another, my first viewing of Endgame is going to be a solo run.

Rick: You know, I don’t even want to watch Endgame with you, you’re just going to fall asleep in the middle of it!

Me, rolling my eyes: Would not!

Cue long, viscerally real nightmare in which I fall asleep watching Endgame, get abducted from my car by a weirdo family of serial killers who decides to initiate their six year old daughter into the clan by having her shoot me in the damn head.

Rick denies having any responsibility for my dreams… I maintain that he planted the seed.

A helpful friend of ours, when told of the debate, rubbed his chin thoughtfully and asked Rick what the logistics would be behind packing the theater for my showing of Endgame with six year olds.

You guys see what I have to put up with?

Target on Saturday evening.. omg.. crowded with slowly ambling people everywhere.

Rick, in a rare move, stepped away, telling me he’d meet me over near the dog treats. I wandered a bit on my own (always dangerous), threw at least three things I don’t need the cart (this is why we use Shipt) and lo and behold, run into a friend of mine!

We lollygag for a bit, chit chatting about this, that, and the other, when she pointed out that my husband had come… and walked right by in search of me, without even noticing I was standing there.

I sighed. “There he goes.”

THAT got Rick’s attention. “What,” I said as he walked back over, “You said that woman is standing and talking to someone else, can’t possibly be my wife?”

Rick grinned. “Yup, pretty much.”

I sighed, and am still sighing.

When we got home, Rick started opening the mail, including the envelope from his union.

Rick: Oh wow, they really want to get my attention about attending this picnic thing.

Me, typing away: Oh? Why’s that?

Rick: All you can eat Fuddruckers. And a cash beer and wine bar.

Me, going back to typing: Ok, I’m a little more interested now. Are you sure you want me drinking and meeting your union brothers, though?

Rick, after a long, long moment of silence: Oh that wasn’t the best way to show that!

He points to the page, and in a truly unfortunate word wrap snafu, face painting was split onto two lines. No biggie, right? Except what painting was now coupled with was ‘Cornhole Competition’. So ‘Painting Cornhole Competition’. Yeah, let that sink in a sec.

We looked at eat other.

Rick: You see why I did a double take!

Me: That’s a horrible thing to do to me… now you know I’m sitting here, picturing all these judge people standing around and staring solemnly at these carefully painted buttholes before they hold up numbers for each entry. AND ITS NOT GOING TO GO AWAY!

Rick walks away, still laughing.

I’m glad I entertain him.

Last Saturday, around 1, I went to the mall.

I hate the mall. I especially hate the mall on really busy Saturdays around holidays. They are crowded and noisy and just unfun.

I had an agenda though, I so went straight into a clothing store… gee… what shall I call it? Let’s call it HORRID.

From the moment I stepped in and started looking around, I noticed a conversation taking place amongst the associates, at a high volume, around the register. It was all about how horribly unreasonable, bitchy, and evil a previous customer was when something didn’t work out the way they wanted it to. All of the associates in the store were a part of the conversation, so it wasn’t like I could quietly ask for a manager and say, yo, what’s up with that shit?

So I quietly did my shopping and pointedly asked if the customer service survey was on the receipt still. The associate chirpily said that it was, and I thanked her politely.

I went home, I took the survey, I said basically the same thing in the comments as I’ve typed here, and asked to be contacted for follow up via email.

Time passed. No follow up was forthcoming. So, I went onto the website, paid off my Horrid Withiner credit card, and used the contact us feature. Because I’m a simple creature, I said basically what you’ve seen before.

What followed… oh. my. god.

Hello Ari,

Thank you for taking the time to contact Horrid!

I truly apologize for any inconvenience endured. Will you be able to provide us with the store location and associates name you are referring to?

Thank you, we look forward to hearing for you.

I replied-

Hi Aaren- Could you please refer to the survey attached to this email address? All of the information I had from the receipt has been provided, and I have since thrown the receipt away.

Short, sweet, and simple, right? Should be easy. HA, what a sweet summer child I was.

Hello Ari,

Thank you for taking the time to contact Horrid!

I do want to apologize for the inconvenience and frustration you have experienced. However, we are unable to see the survey that you are referring to. We are online customer service only and can not look into or further assist with in-store purchases or inquiries. If you had a bad experience at one of our stores, please give us more details. Such as which store it was, the date and time, and the associate name(s) if you have/remember them. We can then send your feedback to the appropriate party and have this taken care of!

Hi Taylor- can you please refer me to someone that can handle the situation? I’ve already provided all of the information I had, and I’m starting to become very frustrated that no one seems inclined to genuinely read what I’m typing or help in any way. 

Hello Ari,

Thank you for reaching out to us.

We recommend contacting the store manager for further assistance as here at web order customer service we are only able to assist with orders purchased online.

I am absolutely not going to do that, since for all I know, the issue was WITH the store manager. I need to get someone non useless, can you help with that? Or should I just cancel my credit card now?

Sensing the I was getting nowhere, I took my lunch break and called the phone number on the website. I told the whole story, was told that I needed to talk to a supervisor, and after a long hold, that no supervisor was available, would I like a call back? No, I said, I am calling on my lunch break, I won’t be able to field random calls. However, the manager was welcome to reach out to me via email.

The associate then asked if she could have my phone number.

Pause. “That would be kind of counterproductive, wouldn’t it? Since I specifically do NOT want a phone call?”

“Oh, yes, understood, no phone call.”

Cue two phone calls and a voice mail, and then finally! an email.

Hello Ari,

Thank you for taking the time to contact Horrid!

I do apologize for any inconvenience this may have caused! I have tried to contact you at the number we have on file and unfortunately I was not able to reach you. I have left a detailed voicemail and I am also following up with this email to ensure you that we would love to further assist with your concern.

Once you send an attachment and we reply to the email, the attachment disappears for us so I sincerely apologize this is such a frustrating experience. If you could access your sent folder and retrieve the receipt, we would greatly appreciate it. If this was a store complaint, we would love to assist you with making your customer experience better. 

Thank you and have a wonderful day!

Marshay

WTF? Where did this mythical attachment come in? Clearly, I needed to set the record straight.

Hello Ari,

Thank you for taking the time to contact Horrid!

I do apologize for the inconvenience that this may have caused. I apologize for a representative calling you when you requested to not be contacted by phone. I have reviewed the previous emails, and unfortunately we are unable to see the attachment that you provided or see surveys that customers have completed. If you have any additional information on your experience in our store, please do not hesitate to provide them so we can assist you better. I do apologize that you have not been contacted in regards to the survey you have completed, and I will send your information up to the appropriate department to have someone contact you.

Back to this mythical attachment again… and I want to note, that because I love you few folk that wade through this, I cut out about 8 more back and forths that didn’t add anything to the conversation here. I also reached out via Facebook just in case there would be any help forthcoming there.. so far, looks like not.

Postscript-

So, never give up, never surrender.. this just in.

Hello Ms.Wellman,

My name is XXXXX and I am the District Manager that covers our NM market. I received your survey and correspondence about your negative experience in Cottonwood Mall. I am very concerned about this, take it very seriously,  and want to thank you for your information.

I understand from  your comments, that the employees working were chatting (and it seems about other customers), which is ABSOLUTELY not acceptable and not a standard in which we accept in my district, within this store, or within our company.

I pride myself and my teams on making our customers feel appreciated, welcomed and comfortable and I am so sorry this experience let you down and did not allow you feel any of those things.

I will be speaking with the entire staff, starting with my management team, about this experience. We definitely never want anyone to have a poor experience, and I am so sorry that you did not feel valued.

I would like to send you a gift card for your time, if I may. It may be used in-store or on our website. I understand you have shopped Horrid consistently, so I am hoping you will accept the gift card, and that you have had better experiences prior to this. I would just need your address so that I can send it to you.

Please know that I am handling this, and again, want to thank you for your time in sharing about your visit so that I can address these matters with my team.

Sincerely,

XXXXXX

So. Customer service isn’t dead. You just have to be really omg levels of persistent. But hey, if you think about it another way, if you see something jacked up that hurts a business you appreciate and want to support and you don’t say anything, well, you’re part of the reason that business won’t be around for you in the future. Which is a long way of saying if you aren’t part of a solution, you’re part of the problem.

Of course, it did occur to me that- over the years of providing feedback like this, it’s probably the most profitable per word type of writing that I produce.

Depressing, huh?

There’s this whole other part of that world inside my head- it was something I always wanted to be when I grew up (and I think we’ve all come to the conclusion that the concept of me growing up is laughable at best) but something I also learned early on that it wasn’t a good idea to talk about.

Ever wanted to be pinned in place while hearing about someone else’s amazing idea for a book that you could write for them? Yeah, me neither.

So in my outside world life, I’ve never really talked about the writing part.

Well, that’s about to change.

Along with all the other stresses of regular life and prepping for Ren Faire life, I’ve got this.. for the first time ever, I’m going to stand behind a modest pile of my books and offer them for sale. With bookmarks.. cause that kind of made sense.

Still… yeep.

I keep thinking Ari is kind of a unisex name… and I could always point at Rick and say he wrote them. And it might not hold up on the copies that have author’s pics of me on the back.

I know that I can do this. I know that when the moment comes, I’ll fling back my dragontail and say, why yes, yes I am the writer… and I’ll give out the NaNoWriMo address over and over and over til I’m blue in the face. And I’ll do fine.

But opening that box today, and seeing all these copies on the table… I feel like a huge impostor.

The anxiety is real folks.

Me, taking Rick’s arm and cuddling in: You know you’re kind of my favorite person.

Rick, all chill cause he’s like that: I figure I usually am.

Me: Isn’t it nice to be told, though? And when, exactly, do you think you aren’t my favorite person?

Rick: Well, yeah… I figure when I’m not is when you start hitting me.

Me: Those are love taps!

Rick, looking skeptical: Uh. Huh.

Me, snuggling closer: We call them love taps cause domestic violence is a felony.

So, I mentioned that we’ve had a sick Rick.

Sick Rick is not a happy Rick. He is a sad Rick. Random Rick trivia… there’s no warning when he sneezes. And unlike yours truly, he doesn’t have a cute little baby panda sneeze. Rick has a kind of scream/bellow sneeze. Which is inevitably followed with the stranglegoose sound of him blowing his nose.

More random Rick trivia- unless he’s in bed or the shower, he’s wearing his hiking/combat boots. Now, keep all of that in mind.

The scene in the office this week- Ari working away diligently, taking calls, attending meetings…

SCREAMSNEEZE… clomp clomp clomp clomp.. STRANGLEGOOSE.

Eventually, the demonic little spark of creativity in my head turned it into a dance instructor chanting a routine-

SCREAMSNEEZE, kick ball change, bump bump, clomp clomp STRANGLEGOOSE bump bump JAZZ HANDS!

It was a long week even before I caught the cold from my favorite germ vector. Le sigh.

Starbucks on a Sunday morning-

It was chilly this morning, and I didn’t want to deal with actually going OUT to breakfast, so we placed a pickup order at Starbucks. Being Starbucks, they did what they do best and screwed up my order, and then got all indignant when I wouldn’t hand them a debit card (I paid online with a gift card that I don’t have a physical copy of) or my phone. So they deposited money onto a blank gift card.

Whatever. Gimmah my damn coffee.

We’re pulling out of the drive through and I’m frowning at this piece of plastic. I’m not good at keeping track of pieces of plastic, and I know I’m never going to use this. So we start scanning the parking lot to commit a random act of kindness.

Enter Mr. Officer… we waved him over to the truck and he had a look of polite dread, to put it mildly. We handed him the card, thanked him for his service, and drove away.

Rick- wow, what kind of day has he had?

Me- did he think we were going to tell him he had to arrest the barista for getting our coffee order wrong?

/general laughter as we pull away in a cloud of good deed smug

On the way home from dinner this evening-

It’s. snowing. New Mexico spring is drunk once again… was 80 degrees just a few days ago, but today it’s snowing.. lovely.

We pass by Bahama Buck’s, and there’s actually people in the drive through

Me- Who the fuck wants shaved ice today?

Rick- Uh, those people, apparently. But hey, maybe they are getting the special hot shaved ice.

Me- /turning and eyeing him narrowly Did you just make a dad joke?

Rick- /snickers

Me- I’m pretty sure that I have to by law serve you with divorce papers for that. We don’t even have kids!

Rick- Sure we do, three little furry ones.

Me- /shaking head Oh I’m so writing this one up, sir.

Rick- /still snickering, having learned NOTHING.

Obligatory spring mood music.

Every year, I start feeling those familiar stirrings of the season and I (probably) go a little overboard. I plant a bunch of stuff in a frenzy of hope.. though only mint, morning glories, and roses seem to be able to survive, year over year.

Thanks to last year’s courtyard makeover, I also get to clean out my outdoor living space and make it habitable once again.. and honestly, I’ve missed it. Now that it’s warm enough to sit out there and have lunch again, I find myself increasingly eager to do so. There’s a few more upgrades I have in mind for this year (a small table fountain, a miniature zen rock garden), and a few that will probably need to wait (giant wrought iron corg proof gates that lock to avoid the ever present pestyness of unwanted humanity, mostly solicitors, and rebuilt flowerbeds within aforementioned gates).

My birdbath did not have a good winter- it got knocked over. And my tiny lawn patch in the backyard needs to be reseeded. The sigh. And so. many. goatheads need to be burnt.

Oh, are you not familiar with this delightful bit of flora?

Also why I bought a roomba after I stepped on 27 of these in a single day. INSIDE the house.

And, of course, goatheads are extremely tenacious. We already have the yard sprayed, front and back, twice a year. On top of THAT, we have to go burn the ground where these little bastards have been. Not on a windy day, which, if you’ve ever spent a spring in New Mexico, non windy spring days pretty much don’t exist.

Now I’m off to look for new container stuff I can grow in the courtyard- I’ve got honeysuckle that managed to survive the winter, roses, Mexican heather that I nursed through by bringing it into the house. Just remember, all that research will be done while I’m humming the tune seen at the top of the post.

In my defense, at least I don’t let myself burst into the chorus in the middle of Home Despot anymore.

You remember Bree and Mr. Bear, right? How cute and snuggly and adorable they are?

I’m sorry to say, this relationship also has a dark side.

“Bree, what are you doing to Mr. Bear?” “Nothing, mama, I’m innocent… see?” The lie begins

All the girls get anxious about thunderstorms… and we had a couple huge boomers today, so of course, the snuggletoys came out for that extra layer of security. More specifically, they came out after a certain fat corgi hopped on her mama’s broken foot like she as a kangaroo on a pogo stick, but I digress.

After work, we all adjourned to the couch for reading and petting, when I caught Bree getting a little nibbly on Mr. Bear.

Which soon led to-

“Just a little, itty bitty nibbly bit, mama!”

And before we knew it, Mr. Bear had the potential to land a starring role if they ever do a remake of Face/off

Poor Mr. Bear.

So I give Mr. Bear v2 about another two weeks before v3 has to come out of the closet. Not in like a Tom Cruise way.