Anna's Slant

July 2, 2009

Why you should never suggest slashing someone's tires:

Not even for a REALLY good reason.

Posted by Anna at 3:59 AM | Comments (0)

June 26, 2009

Survivor's Guide to Car Repairs:

Step One: Get an estimate, and make appointment.

Step Two: Come to terms with the cost of the repairs by dividing the cost by the number of years you have owned the car without having a payment.

Step Three: Bring necessary distractions to help you endure the wait; laptop, cell phone, Starbucks.

First 30 minutes: Drink Starbucks, allow 12-but-looks-14-year-old-girl to engage you in random conversation about the number of models Ford made, and spiders in her Grandma's basement. Attempt to locate a wireless network with your laptop, discover there are two available; the church across the street and someone else. Both require passwords.

30 minutes to 1 hour: Attempt to hack the church's network by guessing every religious term you can recall. "Dispensationalism" is a favorite, I hear. None of them will work.

1 hour to 2 hours: Sit back in chair and close eyes. Napping is not allowed, but looking like you are napping is fine. The office staff will not find this action offensive, they are just glad you are not pacing and asking them "how much longer?" every twenty minutes. Assure the sweet little old lady who is also waiting that you will not be offended if she and her husband eat their pre-packed lunch in the waiting area. With all that's wrong in the world, surely these two belong in a museum of lost courtesy.

2 hours to 3 hours: Notice the city-wide wireless internet "hotspot" sticker prominently displayed on the front window. Inquire. You will be assured you are in a hotspot, inspite of the fact that your laptop cannot see the city-wide network. You also will not be provided any helpful advice on accessing the network. Eavesdrop when the mechanic is talking to the girl behind the counter about your car, try not to be obvious about listening in until she tells him for the third time that you already authorized the work, and are sitting right there and the parts were delivered hours ago in case there is still doubt. Begin texting friends and family so they will be able to provide the police an account of your last known whereabouts when they put out the APB.

3 hours to 3 1/4 hours: Check time on cell phone incessantly, promise yourself that any minute they will be telling you your car is done. After all, the estimate was for 3 1/2 hours of labor. Begin pacing, but cover it by also talking on your phone, this is the perfect time to petition family members for input and support on your Grandmother's 90th birthday party celebration. Do this outdoors, you don't want to be "that" customer.

3 1/4 hours to 3 1/2 hours: Try to remain composed when hearing the news that the fuel filter installed during the tune-up process was defective, and a replacement is on the way. Consider calling Starbucks to ask if they deliver.

3 1/2 hours to 4 hours: Fill out job application, it is obvious they need more help around here. Like a parts runner. When you get to the question "Do you have your own transportation?" crumple the application up and throw it away.

4 hours to 4 1/2 hours: Wait. The drama of the mounting tension of the mechanic-who-had-to-delay-his-lunch-to-wait-for-the-arrival-of-the-replacement-filter, the mechanic-who-cannot-for-the-love-of-god-get-the-too-short-belts-installed, and the office girl-who-called-for-the-part-over-an-hour-ago attempting to locate one from a parts store who gives a damn is better than reality TV. You cannot script this stuff.

4 1/2 hours to 4 3/4 hours: Watch as not one, but TWO replacement filters arrive within seconds of each other. The first to arrive will be the one called over an hour ago. Notice the names of the parts store on their shirts. While you cannot express your opinion under these circumstances, you will be thrilled when the office staff informs him that it's too late, as the mechanic plucks the filter from the hand of the runner who walked in 45 seconds later and disappears into the sacred zone behind the door marked "employees only".

4 3/4 hours to 5 hours: Wait. Pace. The end is almost here.

5 hours: Smile when the mechanic walks in and drops your key on the counter, with that "DAMN I'm good" look on his face, and assures you your car is running perfectly now. Ask him if he noticed anything else that may need attention soon. When he asks if you've noticed a "whooping" sound, assure him that turning up the radio seems to fix that. Pay. Keep your receipt, those new axles have a lifetime warranty.

Posted by Anna at 11:26 PM | Comments (0)

June 16, 2009

Could we go back to housecalls? Please???

I have been seeing the same doctor for over six years now. From day one his office staff has gone the extra mile to annoy me. Every. Single. Visit. If they are out of ideas, they call me and reschedule for a month later. If I play my cards right a four month follow up can turn into an annual physical. Last time they cancelled me because the doctor was sick.

Actually, they didn't call me, they use a commercial airline reservation service to schedule their appointments. I was thinking today they should place video screens in the waiting area to let you know how far behind schedule they are running. Or maybe give out pagers like chain restaurants, so I could go about my day and it would vibrate when the x-ray tech is ready.

So, forty minutes after my scheduled appointment time, I'm finally called. I have overheard that the reason for today's delay is that someone is out sick. That anyone who works there would think to call in sick amazes me, because the last three times I've been there the x-ray tech had that sniffling-sneezing-coughing-aching-head-but-I-really-need-the-paycheck thing going on. I made a comment to the respiratory therapist and substitute x-ray tech that was doing it all herself today. She quickly told me that the x-ray tech was sick, but she's on her way anyway, she's just running late.

Great.

I am still waiting for them to spring the big surprise on me, so far all we've had is repeats. But there is time, the nurse practitioner has not confirmed that I am still alive yet.

I look up, at the vent positioned directly over my chair. The vent covered in 1/8th inch of dust and god-knows-what-other-crud, positioned directly over my chair.

I should have asked for a complimentary sample of allergy medication.

(Psssst... maybe that's why your staff keeps getting sick.)

Posted by Anna at 12:11 PM | Comments (0)

June 3, 2009

A bird in the hand.....

.... does NOT need to be brought into MY office. Especially when it's just been hit by a forklift.

I'm just sayin'.

Posted by Anna at 12:59 PM | Comments (2)

June 2, 2009

Tongue Tied...

Sunday night, I am sitting on my patio quietly conversing with the sweet little ten year old from next door. We have candles burning, the first stars of evening are starting to appear and the lawn is dotted with fireflies.

Sweet Little Neighbor Girl: "What do you want to be when you go up to heaven?"
Me: "I hadn't really thought about that. Do you think everyone will have jobs? Like some people will be angels, and some will sing in the choir or something?"
SLNG: "No, I mean like what kind of animal do you want to be?"

Posted by Anna at 11:17 AM | Comments (0)