1. I did little to no research in preparing anything you will (or will not) read here. I’ve already done my ‘lifer’s research’ and you may, too, if you find anything interesting.
2. These opinions are pretty much mine and I’ll go ahead and claim full responsibility for them.
3. I don’t deal well with prejudice and I like ending in odd numbers.
One of Sara’s theories is, ‘Life is neat due to various cultures, people, experiences and humans’ opportunities to share them’. Another theory I have is that I believe everyone should just be left to ‘be’. (A little tougher to explain, but according to the rules I have set in my own mind it makes sense.) Basically, as walking, pondering, supposedly intellectual human beings, we should be able to select and believe our own religions, politics, and ideals. I honestly have no qualms with most political beliefs and religions as well as the people who need to believe what they do. The problem I have is when someone elses’ beliefs are blanketed, duct taped, and drown on me. Unless I ask someone directly about their politics, religion, or children, chances are that I probably don’t wanna hear any of it.
Overall, politics make me tired. Not for lack of interest, mind you, I find politics overwhelming in the ways they are created, altered, mended, and distributed. What makes me want to set up a holiday camp of Coca-Cola & hamburgs, in my bed, is ignorance. There are several reasons I don’t discuss politics & religion, unless asked, and sounding like a complete drip is one of them.
I’ll bypass opinions that there should only be one race of people, one religion for those people, and one branch of politics to lead. Instead, I’ll sail towards one of my favourite examples entitled, ‘UNLESS YOU’RE OFF YOUR CAN DEALING WITH IT, I HAVE NO INTEREST IN LISTENING’.
Hey, guess what, kids?! Jobs within the States are being outsourced to India! For those of you who have been absent from breathing the last several years, this means you’ve probably spoken to someone, via telephone assistance, with a thick and lovely accent. For me, anything that prods me out of my English/veeery limited French & Spanish speaking bubble is a good time. Plus, I live in a reality where I have a lot of respect for someone who can actually speak a language which is not his or her native tongue. In addition to that, if you don’t understand what someone is saying, why not ask them to repeat it? It’s not like we’re upping the ante for rocket science over here-if I can figure it out that pretty much determines that my Cat has had it down for months.
Now, since you’ll be on hold for a few minutes longer, here’s a little something else to put in your pipe. Perhaps I’ve been extremely fortunate regarding telephone operators, but the times I’ve been directed to India I have spoken to the most undeniably polite people. I am ridiculously obsessed with manners, etiquette, and politeness, so I dig any and all that Jazz. Even when I feel like I’m a terribly rude individual asking someone to repeat themselves, my operators seem understanding in rewording their answers. In short, it’s not a job I could do, and I usually attempt to follow my Father’s courteousness by remembering, ‘The problem you have is with the company policy, not the person who is trying to assist you’.
Which brings me to a recent experience and it’s irony. While attending a meeting in Olympia, Washington, last week~end, I had a bout of etiquette vs. gruesomeness with a cab company. (Now, I believe in being courteous to people who are in positions to help me obtain goals, but sometimes there’s that whole honey vs. vinegar thang.) So, I’m on the horn with said company and while requesting a cab to the train station, I noted my operator sounded a bit sleepy.
Sure, I’m sleepy too. At this point, I’ve just spend a week~end in meetings, achieved three hours of sleep due to a ghost marathon television excursion with my Boy, and there was some football game on that every fe/male on the planet seemed to be watching that Sunday. I can allot for sleepiness, why not? What I can’t deal with is this:
Sara: I understand that your driver should be told beforehand when a credit card needs to be processed. I would like to process a card for this trip.
Cab Man: Siiiiiiiiigh. Now I’ll have to fill out a new card. It’d be easier if you paid with cash.
S: I’m not entirely sure I have enough cash on me. Sorry.
CM: It’s only about XXX bucks and I wouldn’t have to fill out another card.
After my ticked off self hangs up, my Boy points out that we actually have enough time to catch a bus to the station and it would be about a thousand times cheaper. As independent as I try to be, I don’t do busses, but he was absolutely right and it would give me a chance to talk to that ever-so-polite dispatch guy again. Sweet.
Meanwhile, back on the horn…
Sara: Hello, I just called a bit ago and ordered a cab…which I need to cancel now, please.
Cab Man: Uhhhhh, okay. Lemme find your card and cancel. So you don’t need a ride now?
S: (Once in a while I DO get ticked off and actually take out a little on the those truly deserving) Why, no! I don’t need a cab now, that’s why I’m can-cel-ling.
S: (Taking the old ‘Kill Them with Kindness’ routine) Thank you very much, though!
Not that I’m any sort of shining example for anything, but when I was in Customer Service, I tried not to speak majorly in monotones. I’m jus’ sayin’.
I’d bottom line your bottom lines for you, in efforts to feel, act, eat, form your own educated opinions, and speak how you wish, but I’ve got no right to tell or suggest anything unless questioned. It’s not so much my business, but it is my article and I will tell you that ignorance isn’t bliss…it’s frightening. (And taking the bus isn’t quite so bad as I remember.)