Mail, the Mall, and Mulch

Friday, 14 October 2011

Despite having seen her in person on more than one occasion, the folks at Metro Urology apparently don’t know that my daughter is one year old. If they did, they would probably know that my daughter has extremely limited linguistic capabilities, that she is incapable of signing her name, and that she does not read the mail.

First, she received this letter in the mail:

Never mind the incoherence of first stating they’ve attempted to reach her by phone, then immediately saying she “may have been” called (which is it?), what gets me is that they tried reaching a toddler by phone. And, when that didn’t work, they tried reaching a toddler by mail. Surprisingly, they were unsuccessful both times.

But wait! There’s more:

Turns out, when my wife took Isla to the clinic, she paid a co-pay that didn’t need to be paid. So, being decent people, they sent a reimbursement check. To Isla. I kid you not. Here it is:

That’s my daughter’s full name: Pay to the Order of Isla F. [Last Name]. Twenty-five big ones. (I blocked out personal information that needs to be concealed when posting an image of a check online, according to StuffYouShouldObscureWhenPostingChecksOnline.org.)

What do you do with a check like this? Well, frankly, I have no idea what you would do, but I know what we did: we had Isla sign the check.

I’m taking it to the credit union on Monday to deposit it in her account.

Saturday, 15 October 2011

Today we ventured to the mega-mall. We went in to the Apple store along with my wife’s computer. The store was packed! There was standing room only, and I could hardly hear over the noise. I counted 20 employees in just the back quarter of the store alone. There were so many people, some of them were forced to hang out in the nearby Microsoft store.

My wife had already booked an appointment with the Genius Bar and, despite the congestion, they were only running about ten minutes behind. Once she was called over to the bar to figure out her computer problems, Owen, Isla, and I took off for Worst Service. I mean Best Buy.

At Best Buy, I went over to the ‘customer service’ counter to return some speakers I had just purchased three weeks ago. Best Buy is legendary for their strict return policies: you need to bring in a receipt, it has to have been purchased within the last 30 days, there’s a 10% restocking fee, and about half of the stuff in the store can’t be returned at all.

Anyway, I set the speakers on the counter. I had no receipt with me. The employee said he could try looking it up on his computer. His Commodore 64 couldn’t find the purchase using my check card, ‘rewards’ number, or phone number. After giving him a rough estimation of the date of purchase, he was able to find the transaction using my wife’s phone number (she give that out to lots of guys, I guess). After carefully inspecting the speakers for signs of DNA, the employee announced he would allow me to return it. And more good news: no restocking fee. Evidently, they’re not legally allowed to scam people that way here in Minnesota. Go Minnesota!

A few minutes later, my wife walked into the store and announced that her computer was fully-functional once again. We tried playing virtual table tennis on Best Buy’s Playstation, but the interface was so confusing and non-responsive, we gave up after a few minutes, happy to have our decision never to buy a Playstation reaffirmed.

Sunday, 16 October 2011

Today I bought a package of leaf bags.

Leaf bags are those large plastic bags with an opening the tapers off into ties so you can fill it with loads of leafs and then close it securely until you can find a time to dump them in the neighbors’ yards.

I’m a little disappointed at the packaging graphics. The box told me the brand name (Target generic) and unit count (32), but it failed to tell me these important facts about the product:

-To effectively hold open a leaf bag, you will need three hands.

-The bags will not work if wind speed exceeds 0.001 miles per hour.

Additionally, I think that leaf bags should come 98% filled with leaves. That’s about how full they need to be before they stand up and stay open on their own.

Maybe I’ll write to the bag manufacturers and suggest these improvements.

On second thought, my neighbor owns four cheap plastic garbage pails. He sets them in his yard and fills them with leaves with no trouble. They’re also reusable. I’m going that route from now on.

And now, a special offer from Zimmerscope:

FREE: Mostly full box of leaf bags. Perform best when there is absolutely no wind, they are 98% full, and your third hand has finished growing. Contact James for details.