Regressing from passive agression

I've always taken a somewhat passive-aggressive approach to transactions with the service industry.

Yes, I'll have fries with that.

Not a combo? That's OK, I'll pay the extra dollar.

WHY DID I PAY AN EXTRA DOLLAR FOR THESE COLD FRIES?!

But a few years ago while working my way through University, I began to take note of which customers received the best service from me. Grumble about the price of a wireless router, and I won't mention the fact that people driving past your house can browse your files if you don't turn on encryption (that could be another blog post, open routers in Steinbach). Ask me honestly about the price, and I'll be more than delighted to look for an in-store coupon.

Not surprisingly, the best customers were the ones with an assertive yet friendly attitude.

Last summer, I was playing tennis with MJ when, amazingly, my two-month old racket folded like I had just served a shot-put (and no, I never smash my rackets). After a discussion with my friend Marc at work the next day, he filled me in on rule #1:

Take names.

Whenever you're dealing with any service representative, no matter if you think there's going to be a problem or not, write down their name. Make them repeat the slurred name that came before "Thank you for calling Pizza Pizza have you heard about our $10 Mega deal?" As soon as you take their name, and especially before it gets heated and they have the option of giving you a pseudonym, it separates you from the idiots they deal with everyday; you're humanizing them. And if you end up speaking to a manager, having the name of the employee you dealt with, and the time and date you dealt with them lets them know that you're not just looking for a 5% discount.

The sales reps at the sports store didn't take me very seriously. A guy comes in with a racket that looks like it was backed over by a car, and he wants a new one. I actually heard restrained laughter behind me at one point, but I kept my calm, because I had names, and knew that starting anything with these non-managers could only worsen the situation.

But a week later, when I finally spoke directly to the manager, I told him about the empty promises of a replacement racket that had yet to arrive. It was nearing the end of summer and no stock was coming in. But I gave him the names of the salesmen, the times I had spoken with them, and told him,

calmly,

that I expected better service from his store. Rather than bitching about his inconsiderate employees, or his failure as their supervisor, I was able to keep my cool. Had I kicked up a fuss and yelled, he would then be forced to swallow his pride if he were going to give me what I want, which is something that, understandably so, many retail managers won't do.

A few months ago, my rear wiper was frozen to my back window, and I somehow managed to snap not the wiper but the shaft connecting it to the motor. I went to Acura, and discussed the matter with the service attendant.

I've never seen one of these break; we don't even stock them because they don't break. It's not covered on warranty.

Alright. I really like the car, and I've done all of my service in your garage, but I'm just not sure I want to pay for something that is never supposed to break. Who can I speak to about warranty? (My car is only about 16 months old).

Six weeks later, after much

persistence,

my $300 wiper motor was replaced free of charge.

where have you been?

I don't know about you, but I was on a last-minute trip to the Mid-western U.S.

It was another one of my pseudo-business trips. I only say pseudo because I am not a business man, but I have to pretend to be.

This particular client is a large one, and thus very important to our company. It was a trip to the outskirts of a fairly large city, filled with business "parks", four lane highways, strip malls, and suburban blah.

Although I prefer to take only those trips which have mostly technical goals for our company, there's always an element of salesmanship required of me.

I was a horrible salesman at an electronics store during University. Young guys new to the work force, and new to a full-time-job-sized paycheque would come in for the big screen TVs. They weren't interested in the technical details, or even the quality, but only "Will it fit into my Chevette?" and "is this the biggest one you have?"

I just couldn't bring myself to sign them up for a corporate credit card, take 2 years to pay, here's your free t-shirt, etc.

But this is an entirely different ball game. The guys I'm dealing with are at the peak of their careers; power lunches, short haircuts, and nice company cars. If (when) our company grows, we'll be sending similar Type A corporate soldiers to battle, but until then, they'll get the type G computer Geek who never played football and wears a mouthguard to sleep.

C.Y. and N.Y.

Cristine's first day in NYC. By the time we left, it was t-shirt weather.

this is worth a medal

let's start censoring the internet

http://www.ohmythatsawesome.com/2006/02/oh_my_god.html

help me find something...

I'm somewhat of an Internet Explorer Favorites nazi. When I find an interesting blog or website, I'll add it to my Favorites, but if it doesn't hold my interest enough to read everyday, I'll end up deleting it.

Here's what I'm missing from my increasingly well-rounded list of daily blogs:

A junior high or early high-school-aged female blogger. Before your mind starts wandering, I simply think it'd be hilariously fascinating to get a daily dosage of "...and oh my gosh Kevin sat beside me in Science today and I thought I was going to die..." This goes on the assumption that you don't have to be a nerd to be a blogger, is that a safe one?

A junior high or early high-school-aged male blogger, preferrably one who isn't on the volleyball team, smokes cigarettes, and gets invited to good parties. Having parents that pay for a camera-phone would certainly tip the scales.

I'll keep you posted on my findings.

a showering tip

For as long as I've been taking showers, I've had to force myself out of the shower by counting backward from 15. The colder it is, the more times I have to count down from 15. I probably average about 5 or 6 countdowns in the winter.

The second the water shuts off, I'm completely frozen. My mom gave me a bathrobe for Christmas a year or two ago, which has been a tremendous help. But clothes or bathrobe, it's put on in a panic, and before I'm dry.

Lately, I've made two optimizations to my showering process. The first is by no means original, but nonetheless important: I sling my towel over the curtain rod, so that I can begin the drying process before the opened curtain unleashes the frigid morning air.

The second has more to do with technique. During the shower, most of my body remains somewhat cold. The shower spray provides a nice hot climate in the mid to upper back portion of my body, but that's not quite enough. I've always crossed my arms behind my back, so as to develop a small pool of hot water against my lower back. But here's the thing: I've always spent about 95% of my shower time facing away from the shower. I'm not sure why, but I don't enjoy the shower stream as much on my stomache, and definitely not my face. But therein lies the problem. The front side of my body, although it receives indirect warm water run-off from my hair and neck, does not reach a sufficient temperature.

So the trick is to spend about 50% of my shower time facing away from the stream, and 50% facing the stream. This provides well-rounded thermal energy to most of my body, which reduces the total countdowns to about 3 or 4.

Bathing would be the ideal solution, but saving my early-morning alarm clock practices for another post, let's just say I'd never have time for a bath in the morning.

Paradise Now

Paradise Now is a movie currently in theatres which portrays the oft-neglected flipside of the shekel in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. In no way does it attempt to justify suicide bombing, in fact it's more of a cry for peace than anything.

The protagonist is presented with several choices throughout his life: sitting back and doing nothing more than grumbling about the situation, collaborating with Israeli authorities, or staying involved in one of many extremist groups. These groups select at random the people who are 'honoured' with the mission of blowing themselves up. The film shows the social conditions that can lead up to such hateful acts, and the moral dilemmas surrounding them.

Here's the plan

Here's a great way to take pictures in the most photogenic city in the world:

1) Forget to pack your tripod
2) Forget to pack all of your lenses, save for a zoom lens, so that the only composition you can get is the frame of a 70th floor window.

I did get a few with my SLR that I'll post in a week or so, but these last few were done with my cel phone.

NYC pic #1