I found myself in a conundrum on the bus this week. The guy next to me fell asleep AND was in that moment where he made the movement in that deep sleep, to lean to his right. I was on his right. Um? I don’t know you, you are not going to lay your head on me.
I moved my left arm in a chicken dance kind of movement to try and wake him. It worked.
Today, one of my oldest friends celebrates her birthday. I will never forget that call from her I received after school 25 years ago. When I got on the phone, she was sobbing because the Challenger blew up on her birthday, and she saw it. I don’t remember any other details of the call and I don’t remember watching the takeoff. (I am sure I did because I was in school that day.) I just remember her call.
Take a moment to remember those who lost their lives 25 years ago today.
Success.
Received the report from Risk Management, confirming there were no bed bugs in the room.
As I say, rules are made to be broken. Clearly, their “policy” about not sending the report is a flexible one. Am certain my letter to the CEO helped get me that report. Not as quickly as I would have liked but 8 days is not so bad.
Power for the people!
Tuesday @ 3.15 pm: I returned X’s call and left her a voicemail.
Oprah has a half-sister. I didn’t catch the whole story but I saw bits and pieces of the story on several morning news shows. Good for her! How many times over the years has she had one of those stories on her own show? And now, she’s one of those stories.
Very nice of Patricia, the long-lost sister, not to send the story to the tabloids before reaching out to Oprah herself. It shows a lot of class. And it seems that by doing so she was in Oprah’s good graces before they even met. She said this which shows a lot of class by both women.
“When I heard this about you, I said regardless, I didn’t know if it was true or not true that you are my sister, I had to meet you because I wanted to meet someone who had that type of character,” Winfrey said. “So thank you.”
Nice story.
I have an idea for (what could be) a very profitable business. It will require me to do a bit more research first but I imagine I will be sending a letter to, the one and only, Sir Richard Branson in the very near future.
Stay tuned. It should be a good letter.
Update: when looking for Sir Branson’s email address or information on how to submit ideas to Virgin I found this customer letter. And Branson personally responded to the writer by telephone. Telephone! How awesome.
I saw a guy the other day using a pay phone on the street. It got me thinking. In five, ten or fifty years from now, what’s going to happen to them? Will they still work? Will they become commemorative street art? A living museum? A throwback to the past?
Funny because these were the prime method of communication if you were not at home. I am not sure the last time I used one, but they just seem so dirty now!
When was the last time you used one?
It’s the little things that can make a company go from bad to worse in their consumers eyes. Great article.
http://www.mint.com/blog/trends/problem-customer-01202011/
Some advice.
For me, number four is the worst. Once they test my patience, I step my game up a notch. You want to make it harder for me to complain, then get ready for an earful.
Who would leave a Starbucks after sitting and drinking a cup of hot chocolate last night with a 30 minute commute home WHILE your bladder is about to bust?
I would, that’s who.
Last night, as I began my journey home, walking towards the bus, I imagined scenarios like, what if I am on the bus and the bus breaks down? Was also thinking about my full bladder, the time that would elapse before I would get home and the urgency. Houston, I knew this was going to be a problem.
There are not many high end places on 8th Avenue in NYC to use facilities, so even with the urgency, I still needed to be picky or else I would find myself begging to using the bathroom at an adult novelty store, or worse.
First, I stopped at Brasserie Athennee on 46th Street. As I entered, I was holding my belly as if I was pregnant to garner some sympathy, yet the female hostess told me bathroom was for patrons only. No sympathy and I left.
Moving on to the next stop. Charley O’s on 45th Street. I had to go so bad I was going to actually say I was pregnant (I am not). Instead I held and rubbed my stomach as if I were pregnant. I don’t know if that worked, or if the hostess was just kind but she said yes, reluctantly, but it was still a yes.
To the hostess at Brasserie Athennee, karma’s a bitch. To the hostess at Charley O’s, thank you very much.
Lesson learned.
simply three cents 