Here’s a treat for smartphone users:

It seems like Handango is giving out a free app every friday. I’ve missed on the giveaways so far, but the apps look decent. And well, if it isn’t, what’s the harm in trying it out?

I really haven’t updated in a long time, have I?

To do:

Post more.

Change layout.

Get a job.

Sign up for classes.

Be interesting.

I really itch to write something; but alas, I lack inspiration.

It seems that almost everyone in the blagosphere has an interesting story about customer service these days; and quite a few people are also familiar with the little Verizon fiasco that happened sometime ago (when verizon miscalculated the bill of a customer due to confusing rates).

I myself have run into some minor troubles with Verizon in the past, but they were nothing that a quick phone call could fix and I thought that I would never have to deal with the issues that some people have had with them in the past; that is, until this weekend came when my internet got cut off.

Well, being the internet dependent person I am, I was almost immediately heartbroken that my internet was suddenly disconnected after I came back from snapping some pictures. How was I going to share them? Oh, the horror. So, I immediately called Verizon to see what the heck was going on.

After sitting through the soul-less automated introduction and questions, I was finally transfered to tech support, where a nice enough guy had told me, after some digging, that my service was cut off due to a billing issue. The bill was due on the 19th, but it was still the 18th, so I figured something was up. The guy told me that they usually don’t disconnect that fast, but since the company was based on the east coast, they were 3 hours ahead of me; and they cut it off immediately.

But why so soon?

I didn’t understand this– why did Verizon cut off so fast? Isn’t there usually some kind of… notification? Isn’t that standard?

I thirsted for more information, but I couldn’t find out anymore– the departments I needed to talk to to get the information had closed much earlier.

Why in the world does Verizon’s most vital departments close at 6pm~8pm?

I was still feeling rather empty due to tech-deprivity; but after messaging some people and talking on the phone, I went to sleep.

After returning from class that day, I called Verizon again, paid off the amount the asked me for, and they kindly said that my connection would be back up within 2-24 hours; though I must have checked every 5 minutes for the first 4 hours. After realizing it wouldn’t be back anytime soon, I once again stepped back to primitive ways and made calls and went to sleep with a wavering hope that my internet would be back when I wake up.

After classes the next day, I was starting to feel really bored. It’s now that I realize more than ever that most of my entertainment came from the interblag. I drew. I took a shower. I napped. I watched TV; and yet, I was still bored. There was nothing here to consistently keep me occupied. I looked at the clock and realized that it had been 24 hours since I last called Verizon and my connection was still not back on.

After the same dull routine, I got through to Tech Support, where I found out that the order hadn’t even gone through yet. My payment was confirmed; but there was no order to turn my order back on. I was put on hold, where I sat through the same elevator, sleep-inducing music I had now become accustomed to.

I was eventually informed that although I had paid the exact amount that my bill had; there was another unpaid account I was not aware of. It was a holding account where all my non-active services lay unpaid. It was about 4 times more than the bill I had paid before; but desperate to get my connection back, I moped and emo’d until I finally decided to pay that amount also.

After paying both accounts, I now owed Verizon nothing. I called back and I was then informed (after going through the same sleepy hold music) that my connection would be back up within 2-4 hours. I was excited this time; I thought I might be able to see some results that day.

4 hours pass; and still nothing. I was ready to bury my head in the pillows as I continued to message people through a phone. I called Verizon again and after automated info, eventually got to tech support once more. I asked about my connection; and as usual, they bring up the order history.

“Well, I see the disconnect order, but I do not see an order for your connection to get back up”.

What?

I was getting frustrated due to this whole ordeal.

I was told that I needed to speak to the order department– which, lucky me, had already closed that day. I sighed frustratingly after I thanked the guy and got off the phone; making some last messages before going retiring to sleep that night.

The next day, after my classes, I immediately checked my computer for any type of connection, and after expectedly getting a connection error, I called Verizon again. Same procedure as always– automation, questions, transfers, and the holds.

I got to talk to a CSR and was told once again, that there was no reconnection order– so I was transfered to the orders department which was actually opened for once when I called, and was informed that my order got through that time and it would take some hours for the connection to be back up– within 2-24 hours. Now, is it just me or does that sound familiar?

I decided to hang up and made some messages via phone before once again, surrendering to sleep, expecting to make calls the next day once again– but since I had gone to sleep so early, I woke up at around 9pm or 10pm; and I decided I would test my connection again. Still nothing.

I called Tech Support, hoping for some kind of change this time; and knowing that the order actually went through, I had been hopeful since that earlier call. And this time, I was not simply bugging them in hopes for pushing my connection on; I had a reason to call. I was informed that someone would have been coming on the 23rd to install my FiOS; which I already had installed. So once I had been able to speak to an actual person, I told him of the situation– that I only needed to get my internet reconnected and that FiOS was already installed at my house.

He put me on hold and surprisingly, the music this time was actually an enjoyable classical piece which I cannot name. He came back on the line and said that he had been able to get the order pushed through and I would definitely have my connection soon. He tried to help me by setting up the router (it was the wrong address, but details later on), but we could not get through; so he told me that the next day, I should check for a connection, and if there isn’t one, to reset my router– And if there was still no connection, to call them once again.

I smiled a bit– finally, some progress! I messaged more and went to sleep, actually looking forward to the next day– today.

Well, I woke up, and before attending my classes, I checked my internet connection and still no luck! I didn’t worry that much about it though, and I went to my classes. After that, I picked up some food and went home, checking to see if my connection was alive– but alas, there was still an error message. I called Verizon once more and told them of my current situation. I was told to go mess with my router– with the right address this time (the first guy said -.-.1.1 when it was actually -.-.0.1) and after a few instructions and changing the way my router connected, it started to reset.

It finished and connected once more, the settings were right this time.

I saw my Gmail fetcher prompt me for confirmation of username and password.

A huge grin must have been on my face as that dialogue box came up and I quickly thanked the CSR for helping me.

The CSRs at Verizon themselves are really nice, informative and really do try their best to assist you in any way they know how. The only problem I would have to say is that their automated system really sucks are recognizing what I say even though I repeatedly say it clearly and loudly, their hold music is so ambient that I almost want to fall asleep– and most of all, their most important departments close way too damn early; making something that should be a really short process, such as reconnection of an existing internet line, into a long, 4-5 day ordeal that frustrates even the most patient of people.

I do have to say, I am impressed that the CSRs were as kind and helpful and good humored as they were. Mike, Jaime, Ken, Susan, and all those other people I spoke to were all generally nice; really reminding me to my previous post of not shooting the messenger. The problem lies deeper within.

It’s amazing how one article of clothing or accessory can completely change the way people look at you.

My glasses have made people treat me more like a sophisticated, smart person; which usualy took them a while to do after meeting me.

Maybe I already carried that aura before; just never had the looks to justify it. At work, specifically, I noticed less people treated me like I’m a dimwit dropout or something similar. More people converse with me in a friendly manner; some even ask why I work at McDonald’s.

Which really does get me wondering on stereotypes again. What kind of people do you expect to see working at McDonald’s? Is there an image embedded in your mind…? A preset society has made? When you think of fast food joints, do you often see untidy, less-than-bright teenage workers at the cash register? Or illegal border hoppers who are being paid under the table?

I wonder how such stereotypes come to be… maybe in 10 years; when you think of McDonald’s, you will think something else– maybe the middle class man, maybe the rich kid who has nothing better to do, maybe something else. I just find it really interesting.

An order fades into the drive-thru screen; I watch as the column descends down into a pillar of text as the order is taken. My manager starts to get the food, bagging and boxing them. I turn around, without actually memorizing the order and start to get lids as the drink machine spits out the cups for the order. I turn around again, looking at the screen.

“Hi-C…. 4 medium Hi-C’s. Huh”, I thought, “Must be black people…”

I seal the lids onto the cups, turning around to serve the order and put the drinks into a drink holder; my manager setting the food in front of me, neatly folded. I open the window and greet the customer before I hand them their food and drinks; surely enough, the driver and the passengers were all black.

Now, I don’t mean that in a bad way. After you work in such a place, you learn how to discriminate; as in, distinguish between; different groups of people just by looking at what they ordered.

Is that Hi-C you see on the screen? Chances are, the person who ordered that is black.

Were those two ice cream cones you needed? That’s probably for some old people, probably a couple.

A large diet coke by itself? Probably a self-conscious woman.

Apple dippers or a salad instead of fries? Typical young/slim mother.

One small meal with a coffee or small drink? Someone going to work.

Of course, that’s not the case everytime, there’s always people who just order what they enjoy, outside of the food ordering stereotype.

It just amuses me so much how this is true; how does it come to that? How come so many black people order Hi-C? Old people and their ice cream cones? It really fascinates me.

Maybe it’s society, maybe even Kenan and Kel; maybe something else. I sure can’t explain it. To be honest, I’d rather leave it be. It’s amusing how it is, wondering why it’s like that.

Some questions are better left unanswered, I guess. Though I’d like to know any answers people might suggest… or even any other stereotypes. Did I miss something here? Do a certain group of people do something else? I’d really like to know.

Everyday at work really is an interesting day; no matter how much I complain about it.

Today was just like that. A few interesting events. I had just gone on my 10 minute break, drinking my sprite from a child sized cup when I saw a plump boy in a yellow shirt come in. I sat down where I could see the front counter clearly and watched as the newest employee, Vince, talked to him. [3 stories after the jump.]

“Can I help you?” Vince asked. Oh, such a repeated phrase… sometimes I wonder if it just gets embedded in the brain after so much time working in such a place.

The kid seemed nervous, “Uh yeah, we came through the drive thru… you guys forgot a cheeseburger in our meal earlier”. This kid couldn’t have been older than 12. Vince asked him if he had the receipt. The kid seemed reluctant… “No, my mom threw it away”. Okay… this was going to be a problem.

Vince called Oscar, the nearest manager to him. Oscar went to the front counter and asked, “what’s up?”; The kid repeated everything he said. Oscar asked if he had a receipt, the kid mumbled something. Oscar asked again, the kid seemed annoyed now, “MY. MOM. THREW. IT. AWAY.” Oscar looked at him, “Uh huh… well, what time did you guys come through?” The kid mumbled again, “At three”.

I laughed inside… this was going to be good. It was probably around 6 at that time, maybe a bit later. What was this kid doing in here at that time? Oscar apologized to him, “Okay… sorry, unless you have a receipt or it’s recent enough so we can look it up, I can’t give it to you”. Which is only logical, since anybody can say they came to the store hours earlier and they had forgotten something and have no receipt to prove it.

The kid walked out; I watched the way he walked. He seemed angry. I couldn’t help but a be a bit disgusted by his figure. He was so young, and already he seemed unfit. At that age, I was healthy and fantastic; my body was as flexible as a rubber band; yet here is this kid, the next generation; and he couldn’t even keep his arms down due to his figure. Maybe I am biased and being cold hearted about it; but really, a kid at that age shouldn’t be that plump.

I waited, watched. I knew something was to follow.

The kid came back, this time with a younger boy, and an older man. All three were quite overweight; the man seemed really angry. I sat up straight; this was going to be really good.

He went straight for Oscar. “Okay, yeah, I sent my kid in here about the cheeseburger that you guys forgot in the first place, and you guys give him hell for it?”

I was already criticizing him. I disliked overweight people that get angry over a such a small thing. They must be really addicted; I feel really bad saying that, but it’s really how I feel. I thought, ‘Okay guy… first, why send your kid… he seems frightened beyond all belief. Second… work on your grammar… third… hell? You weren’t here to witness anything. There was no hell to be given’.

I kept a smug smile as I watched.

“Sir…” Oscar started calmly, repeating what he said to the kid about receipts and times.

“I live on the other side of town! Do you think I just drive around just because you guys screwed up my order?!”

Again, I criticized in my thoughts. ‘Why did you come here just for McDonald’s…?’ and ‘Grammar, grammar, grammar’.

Oscar tried to reason with him, the guy would not listen.

“I KNOW you can look it up, you have a computer, look it up!”

Criticizing. Oh, I just had a witty remark for everything. ‘Computer = having all records? There had probably been around 300+ customers that had come through… it was busy time after all. And what if the computer only kept records up to a certain filesize? Maybe it had exceeded that limit already and it didn’t go back that far anymore’. Maybe I was being too geek now. I was talking in terms he probably wouldn’t understand. He got angrier, I could see his face getting redder… his figure certainly didn’t hide it… he did seem like the kind of person who cares a lot about his oh-so-healthy food.

“I can tell you EXACTLY what I ordered”

I could almost see Oscar shake his head, though I couldn’t actually see him from my view. “Alright… what did you order?”

The man repeated his order. Oscar asked how much he paid. The man replied with an annoyed, “Oh, I don’t know, 8 bucks?”. Oscar totaled it, it was around there, though not quite. Oscar told the cooks to make a cheeseburger.

The man continued his angered rant; “And it’s not just sometimes that you guys get it wrong; it’s EVERY SINGLE TIME! Not just every now and then, it’s EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. God…”

‘You live on the other side of town. There are 4 McDonald’s in this town; the other 3 are probably closer. If we screw up so many times; then why the heck do you come back here to get food? There’s plenty of other and probably healthier choices!’ My mind lashed.

Oscar gave him his cheeseburger, probably just tired of it all. “Next time you have to have a receipt okay? Here you are, have a nice day”. The man thanked him, though you can clearly tell in his voice that he wasn’t.

They walked out, cheeseburger in hand. The little boy looked up at his dad and asked if they got fries, to which the man answered, “No, because they SCREWED UP”. ‘What the heck does fries have to do anything with this?’ I thought.

Oh well, just another hour gone by at work.

___________

I was taking orders in the drive thru, when this lady came by ordering something like 2 Double Cheeseburgers and a McChicken. Now, at the McDonald’s where I work, there are three windows. The first one, I have never seen used, ever. The second one is where we take the money and give change, and the third one is where we give food.

Everytime I complete taking an order, I say the total and tell them it will be at the second window. Now, most people get confused since the first window is always closed and they never really see it since it’s so near; so on slow hours, some cars just totally pass by straight to the third window.

This lady was about to do that, so I opened the window right before she passed and said, “Ma’am” and she stopped her car abruptly and backed up, smiling at me, “I heard you say that, I did, haha”. She laughed heartily at me; her total was 3.23. She asked for a glass of water with no ice; it was still 3.23.She had started to look at her money and made small talk with me about Christmas shopping and how she wasn’t thinking completely; her mind still on how she was going to finish her shopping tomorrow. I told her that I still needed to do mine.

She looked at me, “Oh my gosh, really? Do you have kids?” I shook my head. Kids? Did I really look that old? We conversed a bit more, she had given me exact change in coins… I didn’t bother to count. I gave her a receipt and said “Have a nice night” and she wished me the same.

___________

Working at McD’s isn’t really something to be proud of, I realize; but it is fun there most of the time. I was still taking drive-thru orders when a group of teenage boys came through the drive thru to order some things. Everything seemed fine until I thought I started to hear an echo. “A… double cheeseburger please. A double cheeseburger please.” What the heck? I ignored it, and continued to take orders. I started to realize it was probably a passenger repeating it just to be annoying.

I finished the order, and I heard some guy say, “DO IT!” and I thought they were probably going to roar their engines at me; so I took the headset off for a bit so I could still hear what was going on, but not so much. Sure enough, I heard the loud roar of tires grinding on asphalt.

It was busy time, and I didn’t have a money taker, so I had to multi-task between taking orders with specifications such as no lettuce, no ketchup or whatever and taking money at the same time. The truck turned the corner, I saw four boys inside. “Huh, wiggers.” I thought, being critical of customers again. This job was really making me a bitter person. I told them their total and went back to taking orders, keeping my attention split. I heard a passenger in the back say something about how he loved McDonald’s. I couldn’t do anything but roll my eyes.

They honked their horn when they were ready to give me their money, and I gave them their dollar change back with their receipt, not even bothering to tell them to have a nice day. I didn’t close the window though; why should I? I was still taking orders. The window being open hadn’t been a problem until they had started to blast their annoying, soul less rap music; then I just slammed the window close on them. I thought I might have cracked the glass. Kids these days are so annoying… no respect, no courtesy; and they think everything stupid is hillarious.

When you think you are being funny at a fast food restaurant by messing with employees; you aren’t. You are probably being perceived as an idiot.

When it wasn’t so busy, I walked back to the front to talk with Samantha, who was presenting; handing out food; to the customers as they leave the drive-thru. I asked her about them, and she said that she did deal with them.

“They were annoying, huh?”

“Yeah” She replied with gritted teeth.

I laughed as I heard the beep of another car pulling up to the drive thru speaker. “Hi, can I help you?” I asked as I shook my head, amused at the things customers do.