Sucking Worse

Monday, 12 September 2011

After getting ready for work amidst a house full of boxes, I arrived at my cube only to be surrounded by more boxes. As you may recall, I coincidentally switched cubes last week, and so I spent most of my day unpacking. I’m once again in that mood where I want to get rid of stuff. That feeling doesn’t come around often enough for me, so I like to take advantage of it when it does.

In going through my stuff, I filled up my recycle bin and my garbage bin. I also put in a request for an under-the-desk drawer. My last cube had one, and I was shocked – shocked!, I tell you – to discover there wasn’t one in my new cube. The form I filled out asked why I was making the request, and I wrote, “so that I have a place to put my pens.” And then the form asked, “What would be the consequence of not performing the request?” So I wrote, “My pens will be all over the desk.” Evidently, this was air-tight reasoning, as I came back from lunch to find a drawer installed.

Tuesday, 13 September 2011

I once read somewhere – and I’m sorry I can’t recall the source – that cities have “neighborhoods” and suburbs have “developments.” Isn’t it weird, the source said (and I’m paraphrasing here), that a construction company comes into an area, chops down the trees, fills in the wetlands, plows down the hills, removes the big rocks, kicks out the wildlife, and then proclaims the site to be ‘developed’? As a memorial to such environmental pillaging, the construction companies name the development after whatever they have destroyed. For example, if you live in Elm Park, be assured that the construction company mowed down dozens of elm trees to pave those roads. Fox Glen, Rolling Meadows, and Babbling Brook are similar examples.

It’s funny because now, when I drive past apartments or neighborhoods or ‘developments’ that declare their name on a prestigious sign, the first thing I think of is what the name betrays. Did they plow down the hills, block the view, uproot the trees, what? It’s like the name is an underhanded betrayal.

A comedian (again, the source escapes me, sorry) once commented on a similar underhanded betrayal of reality. He said that people will often preface their words with a disclaimer that belies their real motive, or stymies your attempt to respond. It’s hard to explain, so I’ll just give some examples…

Have you ever heard anyone begin talking by saying, “Not to be too blunt, but…” You know that person is going to be blunt, right? And now there’s not much you can do about it, because they’ve already declared that they’re not going to be blunt.

Or here’s a better example: “Well, in all honesty…” (Translation: ‘I’m going to be rude.’)

“For lack of better words…” (Translation: ‘I can’t think of a way to say this politely.’)

“Well, not to rip on someone when they’re not here, but…” (Translation: ‘I’m about to rip on someone who’s not here.’)

I wish I could think of better examples, but once this was pointed out to me, I began noticing it all the time. It’s kind of funny, really. It’s amazing how often – especially in work settings – people set up these disclaimers that are supposed to absolve them of culpability. I laugh a little each time I hear one.

Wednesday, 14 September 2011

Today, I paid another visit to A-1 Vacuum in St. Paul. About two weeks ago, I made a stop there to figure out what was wrong with my vacuum. They replaced the filter, cleaned it out, and sold me a new belt. They were a little underhanded in their practices, but nothing to really complain about (though I did blog about the event).

After leaving their store, I brought my improved vacuum home and set it aside. There was no reason to vacuum, really, since we weren’t living in the house yet. So the vacuum did absolutely nothing for nearly two weeks.

Back on Sunday, we used the vacuum for the first time since A-1 installed the new parts. The belt broke. On its first use.

I thus brought the vacuum into the store today and complained that the belt didn’t even last for one usage. One of the employees took the vacuum apart, pulled out the belt and proclaimed that I must’ve vacuumed up something like a rock that broke the belt, because this sort of thing doesn’t just happen on its own. (No shit, Sherlock.) I said, “Yeah, but shouldn’t it survive more than one usage? My last belt lasted over five years.” He said something I didn’t understand, and then said he would not replace it for me.

“Really?” I asked, “Even though I just bought it and used it only once?”

He confirmed this was correct.

I was really surprised. When I used to work at Lenscrafters, by comparison, they had a 30-day guarantee: You could return your glasses for any reason for the first month. If they didn’t work, you didn’t like them, or even if you just broke them in half in a fit of rage. And keep in mind the lenses were often custom made.

Nevertheless, the employee was 100% confident that the belt was not faulty. He refused to give me a new belt just in the interests of customer service (and their website does promise 100% Customer Satisfaction). And, even though their site also promise refunds and replacements on damaged parts less than 14 days old, he didn’t even offer me a discount on a new belt (the belt broke on day 13, I arrived back at the store on day 16). I told him to reassemble my vacuum and that I would go buy a belt from his competitor.

Also: Check it out – my University is ranked 11th by US News and World Report for best Regional Universities. It’s the top ranked University in the state, too.

And here’s my review of the book The End of Christianity. I previously wrote about this book HERE, but that was back when I was only about half finished with the book. The review provides my synopsis of the whole book.