Thursday, July 12, 2012

I Want My CrapTV!


On Sunday morning before we departed for our mini-vacay, I realized I’d forgotten to pay our satellite tv service bill. Thus, to avoid getting it cut off, I made a quick payment to DISH NETWORK via their automated phone service. About thirty minutes later, we hit the highway for Memphis.
When we returned three days later and the kids turned on the television, we discovered our satellite service had been disconnected. I was confused and a little irritated, since I was 100% certain I’d made the payment on Sunday to DISH NETWORK before we left.
Of course, I was even more TICKED to figure out it had been disconnected a majority of the time we’d been gone and my precious DVR had not been able to record the incredibly educational and important shows I watch religiously, such as… The Bachelorette… and Sister Wives. (I’d be happy to argue with anyone who says CrapTV can’t be educational. I mean, how else are our children supposed to learn the incredible importance of red roses in a relationship OR how having more than one wife might SOUND cool, until you have to figure out a way to feed the one zillion children that comes with it or until you accidentally admit you like one wife better than the others?! Geez.)
So, immediately I hopped on the phone to call DISH NETWORK and figure out what the problem was. I quickly got through to a customer service rep named Marcus. He was eager to help me solve the great mystery of why my service was disconnected, even though I paid my bill. He began asking me a series of questions, including my phone number and receiver number. After rattling it off to him, he proceeded to tell me I’d not had service since 2008, but he’d be glad to help me get it restored.

Me: 2008??? That’s ridiculous. I just watched three episodes of Duck Dynasty on Saturday night. Do you ever watch that show? Sy is my absolute favorite!!! Hey, Jack. Hey. Hey. Hey. (a little Duck Dynasty humor for my other fellow rednecks)
Marcus: Um, ma’am. No. No, I’m not familiar with that show. I know you “told me” you watched your dish a few days ago, but it clearly states here you’ve not had service since you moved from your previous address in 2008.

Me: Well, you are WRONG. I have DISH NETWORK service and HAVE HAD DISH NETWORK since we moved into this house, Marcus. Is this your first day at work?! I bet it is. I really think you might be in over your head with this situation, Marcus. Perhaps I need to speak to someone with a little more knowledge of “your system”.
Marcus: No, ma’am. I’ve worked here for five years. I know what I’m doing. My system says you don’t even have a receiver or dish at your house and the receiver number you gave me isn’t a recognized number.

I about flipped my lid.
I was looking RIGHT AT the receiver and most certainly had a very ugly dish connected to the side of my house. I was certain about THAT fact, considering in order to be permitted to actually place it there, I had to jump through hoops and negotiate the sale of my first grandchild to our Homeowner’s Association. In all seriousness, we really did have to get a “professional” satellite company to come assess our house and get written documentation to show the HOA, saying the side of our home was the only suitable place for a satellite dish before we were released of the $150 fine they were trying to cram down our throats.

Word of advice? If you’re a redneck, you like to do what you want on your own property, you don’t think having a basketball goal is evil and you could give a toot less about where your neighbor places their satellite dish, DO NOT move into a deed restricted area with a Homeowner’s Association.
Anyhow…after spending about thirty minutes go back and forth with Marcus about having a receiver, whether this "said" receiver I was describing had actually been working since 2008, me nicely telling him he needed to learn how to effectively do his job at DISH NETWORK and probably ruining my karma by calling him a Mo-Ron more than once under my breath, my phone’s signal dropped the call and all of my progress with dear ol’ Marcus was gone in an instant.

At first, I was livid. This meant I’d have to call back and explain the situation ALL OVER AGAIN to an entirely new customer service rep at DISH NETWORK who was likely just as big of a Mo-Ron as Marcus.

So annoying.

But, when I thought about it for a second, I was actually a bit relieved. I mean, Marcus clearly thought I was losing my mind and the receiver I was telling him about hadn’t worked for four years, but had been kept sitting on my entertainment shelf lifeless and collecting dust. In his defense, he was not familiar with my need to unclutter. If that thing could be tossed and I could still watch my CrapTV, it would have long been gone!

Yes, this was my 2nd chance to get someone on the phone who:
1) Understood how to do their job at DISH NETWORK.

2) Did NOT think I was insane. (No comment from the Peanut Gallery…HUBBIT.)

So, I called DISH NETWORK again and started explaining the situation (and the lack of efficiency of Marcus) to a sweet rep named Melana.

About half way through my ranting and raving about how DISH NETWORK needed to find better customer service reps and how I was appalled I didn’t know why the money I’d paid wasn’t credited to my account, I looked closer at the receiver Marcus and I had almost gone to a World War over and realized something SUPER vital to the situation…

It clearly said DIRECT TV.

Oops.

My bad.

Whitney

Wednesday, July 11, 2012

Warning: Not For Those With Weak Stomachs

Well, it feels like a million years since I’ve written a blog. My lack of blogging isn’t because there haven’t been “blog worthy” moments in my life. In fact, I have at least ten ½ written blogs on my phone, I’ve meant to finish and post. The truth is I’ve been extremely busy. If you don’t believe me, you should see my laundry room. It’s obscene.

In any case, on Sunday my little family and I hopped in our Swagger Wagon and headed to Memphis to visit with my friend Erin and her daughter, Raegan, for a few days.

Erin and I have known each other for years and she was even our Maid of Honor when Hubbit and I got hitched. Erin and I met at Christian camp when we were in 6th grade, where I still can vividly remember her stealing David O’s favorite Yankees hat and deciding it needed to be given a “good washing” with shampoo in the cabin’s sink. Needless to say, he was pretty ticked and I immediately learned what a pistol Miss Erin was. As we got older, she only grew feistier and now she is blessed with a daughter, Raegan, who is JUST LIKE SHE WAS, times 5. Oh how the world humbles us! ;) Rae is unarguably the sassiest 4-year-old I’ve ever met and I absolutely LOVE her!

While in Memphis, we visited Graceland (which was actually extremely entertaining) and much more, but the absolute highlight of our trip was our memorable visit to Incredible Pizza. For those of you unfamiliar with the place, it’s much like GattiTown. Only better.

MUCH better.

It has an enormous buffet of salad, pizza, pasta, a taco bar, a baked potato bar, desserts, slushie and ice cream…pretty much anything and everything a kid might want to eat. It also has a game room like none I’ve ever seen before, equipped with loads of fun arcade games, glow mini-golf, Go-Kart tracks, laser tag and bumper cars.

On the car ride there, my kiddos got more and more excited as Raegan gave us the run-down of the joint and raved about their wonderful food. When we arrived, we quickly learned she was right-on. The place was awesome! The kids were super hungry, so they immediately started piling food on plates and secured their spot in the “Sports” dining room, where they could watch ESPN while they ate.

As everyone was finishing their first plate, Hubbit decided to return to the buffet for a taco salad. About 2 minutes after he departed, Bug looked right at me and said, “Momma, I’m gonna be sick”.

Bug is a great kid. But, he’s a “puker”. You know, one of those kids who pukes several times a week or more, for reasons like: He’s hot. He’s cold. He’s happy. He’s upset. His mother fed him ice cream and cookies for breakfast. (Don’t judge me!)

Knowing Bug didn’t “play” when it came to puking, I quickly asked Erin where the restroom was and she loudly told me it was to the left. I quickly started escorting my dry heaving Bug to the restroom, only in my complete haste, I turned right and couldn’t find the bathroom! I finally realized my mistake and begged Bug not to vomit in the floor as we began walking what felt like 50 miles to the restroom located on the TOTAL OPPOSITE side of the enormous building.

When I had half-dragged Bug about halfway to the bathroom, he couldn’t hold back any longer and vomited what I would consider an enormous amount, onto the floor. At this, my speed increased and we continued walking toward the restroom. The most intriguing thing was, people were just stepping AROUND IT to get their food. Gross!! About three feet later, Bug vomited again. This time, it was not only right beside the 30 foot buffet line, but also practically on Hubbit’s feet (who was happily creating what he would later call “the most perfect taco salad EVER”).

I quickly asked Hubbit to take care of the mess and alert the staff of the issue and whisked Bug to the restroom.

The next few moments were quite entertaining and went a little something like this…

6:20pm: Hubbit sprang into action, grabbing a “Wet Floor” sign to alert others of the vomit.

6:21pm: A sweet little girl came running across the restaurant, slid and did a face plant across the floor, into the vomit.

6:22pm: Hubbit abandons his “most perfect taco salad EVER” and heads straight for the bathroom, as after witnessing the vomit Slip-n-Slide, he no longer could hold off his sympathetic dry heaves.

A short time later, Bug and I returned to the table where Erin was giggling uncontrollably after witnessing the extreme ridiculousness we somehow managed to pack in our luggage and transport for six hours to Memphis. Although it was a very dramatic beginning to our visit, everyone started feeling better quickly and the kids did get to completely enjoy the gaming area.

But, you can guarantee the next time we visit Memphis, we’ll be sticking to BBQ! (Good grief.)