Like Bruce Banner, mild-mannered and unassuming, I, too, carry around inside me an alter ego who remains unseen and in check unless something triggers the rage that unleashes the beast. But my other self is not a big green monster with a bad haircut. No, when I am pushed beyond the limits, my clothes don’t split open as my muscles bulge. What happens to me is that I become more stooped, my hair grows wispy as my hairline recedes, my eyesight goes so I have to squint, my pants climb up to mid-chest and my voice crackles with anger. I have become Cranky Man, and you’d better watch out.
Usually, I am able to control my emotions, so Cranky Man is rarely seen in public, and, until last week, he had not shown himself since last fall. In that instance, the cause was a broken washing machine purchased from a large retailer we’ll call Gears and Flowbuck. In this case, the part that was broken was covered by warranty, but the technician who came to check the machine would not simply replace the part because there’s no money in that. Instead, he wanted to replace, for an additional $900, a perfectly fine part behind the broken one. When I asked him if I could just have the part I needed—the stainless steel drum on a front-loading machine—he said he couldn’t do it, so I asked for a phone number of someone who might approve it, and he reluctantly handed it over.
And this is where the rage begins to build. For six hours over the next two days, I was on the phone with a host of nincompoops and incompetent boobs, all of whom were trained in the art of deflection and misdirection. In a half-dozen cases, my call was mysteriously dropped when I got close to finding a sympathetic, non-nincompoop. In others, I was lied to. In still other calls, I went round and round an electronic loop. Finally, in the sixth hour, Cranky Man appeared in an explosion of spittle and epithets, holding the man at the other end of the line by the virtual throat and rasping at him dangerously, “Give me my drum! Give me my drum! It’s mine, and I want it!” Fully aware of the threat I posed, he told me that he would make some calls and get back to me. When he hung up, I figured that was it. Cranky Man had given it his best shot, but, ultimately, he never wins.
Imagine, then, my surprise when, two days later, I came home to find not one stainless steel washing machine drum in front of my garage door, but two stainless steel washing machine drums!
So that was last fall and, despite the litany of woes I chronicled in my first blog this semester, Cranky Man remained tucked away. But then last Friday, he re-emerged ever so briefly. This time it wasn’t a large retailer that forced him out. It was a large communications company that we’ll call
BT&T.
Having succumbed to the sales pitch last fall of a bumbling young salesman (whose very sales shtick may have been his apparent bumbling), we agreed to change our cable/internet provider to the aforementioned BT&T and arranged for installation of the equipment on March 6, between 8-10 a.m. To accommodate the installer, I cancelled some appointments and waited for him to appear. By 10:30, when no one had shown up, I called the company to see what had happened. As with most stories of this kind, I found myself bounced around “If you want to continue in English, press one” limbo until a rather sleepy-sounding individual told me that the installation order had been cancelled.
“Cancelled?” I croaked, “I didn’t cancel.” At which point, I was tossed back into the mix of desperate people listening to electronic dance music and being told how valuable we are as customer. When I finally spoke with a person who seemed to know what she was doing, I was told that the installer had gone to the address and found an abandoned house with no electricity.
“Really?” By now I was in full CM mode. “I’m standing in my house, flipping my lights off and on!”
After apologizing for the error, the woman told me that a new order would have to be written and that the soonest I could get hooked up was April. I told her I was no longer interested and hung up. It wasn’t later that it dawned on me: BT&T is a phone company. Why didn’t the installer use his phone and call me?
So it goes, I guess.
Trivia Contest #3
So far, Nick Kotwas is still our leader, but he’s being pursued by Olivia Happel and Amybeth Maurer. Here are this week’s questions. And don’t forget: you can’t win, if you don’t play.
Literature
“From hell’s heart, I stabbeth ye!”
Movie
That’ll do, pig.
Music
I once had a girl,
Or, should I say, she once had me.
She showed me her room.
Isn’t it good, Norwegian wood.
Last Week's Answers:
Literature: Slaughterhouse Five by Kurt Vonnegut
Movie: Cool Hand Luke
Music: "Babylon" by David Gray