Today has been one of those days that a medicated bipolar both longs for and dreads. A taste of the high tempered by the bitterness of the lows. I had a really good day at work today. Settled several cases. None huge, but nice money-in-the-pocket cases. A coworker lent me her desktop fan so I was able to stay the entire day without getting sick from the heat. Came home, Peter took me to Five Guys for my favorite small bacon burger with ketchup and mayo with cajun fries (can we say num yummy?).
To good to be true you say?
Of course it is! I say.
All hell broke loose when I got home and checked my email.
Let me say in advance that the employees at Target.com are probably very nice in their real lives. I understand that they’re real people with boyfriends and girlfriends and in some cases maybe both. However, they’re working at Target.com. They’re obvioiusly not geniuses. In fact, with the mood I’m in at the moment I’d call them…yes…wait for it….fucktards.
Yes, I said fucktards.
Call the PC police. I don’t mind. I’m rarely PC anyway. Paranoid, sure. Mentally ill, you bet! Pyschotic? Not that I can really remember…anyway…I digress.
Way back in November my loving brother (and he really is a loving brother) gave me a Target e-card for my 45th birthday. I decided to use it to buy two bluray DVDs since I’m going to upgrade to bluray in 2009. (Its my late christmas present to myself….along with a puppy…but again…I digress.)
All went well. Scrolled through the blurays, finally decided on Dreamgirls for $6.99 (yes!!! on bluray!!!) and Sweeney Todd for $17.99. Pressed the buy buttons, entered my e-card number, got the “order placed” memo and went on about my business. All’s well and all crap, right?
A few days later I get an email from Target.com informing me that I need to submit a different form of payment. So I call the number that I find in the “contact us” section of their website. After 20 minutes of trying to understand what was being said (on both sides) I was assured that everything had been fixed and that my order would ship on Monday last to arrive on Friday tomorrow.
All’s well that ends well…right?
So I get home from picking up my burger tonight, log on in a really good mood, pull up yahoo and discover that my Target.com order has been CANCELLED. Yes. CANCELLED. Because I failed to submit a new payment form. Oh the blood started to boil. Not a good thing with a bipolar cherokee/german/welsh/irish/english chick.
Called Target.com. Talked to a very nice woman who begged me not to cry because then she’d cry and it’d be a phone remake of Steel Magnolias and that movie sucked the first time. 20 minutes later she assures me that all is right in the world.
So I log off, do a bit of crocheting, watch a bit of tv (I’d have my tubes untied if Laurance Fishburn asked me to…I’d even be willing to be play Tina to his Ike…but I like that kind of thing). Bedtime…log on to check email before bed. Guess what? No, really…guess. Don’t want to? Okay…I’ll tell you.
ANOTHER EMAIL FROM TARGET DEMANDING AN UPDATED PAYMENT SOURCE!!!
Jesusfuckingchrist…what is wrong with these people? Why the hell can I not just have my blurays? Why does it have to be soooooo hard.
I call them back and finally, finally…after talking to 4 different people on this call alone, #5 (I’ve given up on their names by this time…I’m just giving them numbers…figure if its good enough for the anti-christ it’s good enough for me) actually manages to fix the problem. I mean really fix it.
So, I”ll amend my “Target.com employees are fucktards” statement here.
I’ll say “Target.com employees, with the exception of #5, are fucktards.”
(Fucktards is my new favorite word. I think Peter is hoping I find another new favorite word really soon.)