Today, a battle with Ticketmaster had all the makings of a Costanza moment (irritation leading to frustration culminating in indignation), but fortunately ended more Seinfeldian (total bemusement while enjoying the absurdity of life).
I have to find a new desk for work to accommodate my injured knee and looked at Office Depot’s website to get a few ideas. Not being a frequent desk-shopper, I chose the option of talking with a “live representative” through a chat feature. I now offer you the complete, unedited transcript of that chat:
Please wait while we find an agent to assist you…
You have been connected to Becky.
Note: This blog is built out of a month of frustration, anger and general disappointment, so some adult language will likely follow.
Barnes & Noble can go straight to the fieriest depths of hell, which is, of course, a complete impossibility, but not because it’s a corporate entity already devoid of a soul but because the company is, I’m quite positive, hell itself.
I’ve not always felt this way. As recently as five weeks ago, I championed the company, even to the point of recommending Barnes & Noble’s e-reader, the nook, over the market leader, the Amazon Kindle.
It’s only fitting that the nook logo is a frowny face.
Oh, but then came four weeks ago, at which point the cracks in my long-standing appreciation of Barnes & Noble began to show, culminating into a full-out divorce following things I discovered on Tuesday. I share them with you now, in part to vent, but mostly to caution others who might be considering venturing into the nook world. I hope you will think long and hard against it, opting instead for wiser investments, such as the Kindle or simply tossing your cash out a window and watching it scatter off in the wind.
I arrived home yesterday to a piece of mail that made Tuesday, Aug. 22, 2011, officially, the Happiest Day of My Life, a combination of all three of my nephews’ births, my wedding day and my divorce day, college graduation and my second-, third- and fourth-favorite Christmases ever.
In my hands was something I had declined last year but now had the chance to rectify the situation, an opportunity I shan’t again let pass.
There’s an extra bounce in my step today, perhaps a little extra change in my pocket (as to whether it goes jing-a-ling-a-ling, that’s for another story, perhaps one set in 1986). On this weekend of love and romance and Valentines, I’m celebrating a break-up that’s been a long time coming.
Today, I ended my two-year relationship with DirecTV.