Tuesday, October 30, 2012

Hang On...Can You Hear Me? @#$@#

My title is an homage, as it were, to the glorious technology of free video chatting/phone service that rhymes with "hype." The title is basically how most of my conversations went when The Man went on a recent 2-weeker military trip. We got tired, eventually, of shouting over static that sounded alternately like landing UFOs and Niagra Falls, respectively, - so we'd get the video part set up and then I'd call his hotel room.

Yes, I said hotel room. What has that to do with a military trip you ask? Two words: Air Force. He would've stayed on base, but something was up with their billeting. Irrelevant, I say.


So we'd talk on the service-that-rhymes-with-hype and it was jim dandy for the darling children to see their beloved father, and by that I mean act ridiculous and run around like crazed spider monkeys. It was fun, if not annoying and not particularly amazing clarity wise.

The Man thought he had to buy credit on the service-that-rhymes-with-hype in order to contact us; so we were out about $40 for this fun technology. I, being the Technology Dynamo that I am, figured that he really needed something other than what he'd purchased so we actually needed a refund.

No problem, we can call them, right?


No, the service-that-rhymes-with-hype that offers mostly-free video chatting/calls (except when it doesn't) only handles the disgruntled masses through email or live chat. They don't actually have humans with whom one could speak on the PHONE. Or the rhyming-with-hype service.

Irony, when is it not amazing? When it means I have to check my Facebook and/or shop for new boots-with-da-fur while waiting for "Stan is typing" to finish. If Stan is his REAL name. (Pretty sure it's not.)

(Unrelated note to self: don't jokingly offer to check out a book to the 2nd grader at the school library by saying, "Let's get this book scanned Billy, if that's your REAL name." Billy may begin to nervously defend his name and be mildly afraid of the weirdo Library Momunteer. Possibly.)

So Stan and I finally got things sorted out, and I DID get a refund. It was only mildly annoying but VERY ironic. I'll take that, since I got mah moneys back.

For today's thrilling business-esquey calls I get to make, we have ordering new hinges for my cabinetry because we have defective hinges so the doors swing open like we're being haunted by poltergeists - which we most assuredly are not. Then I could email Montel and ask him to take a break from hawking Check into Debt or whatever that company is, and call up his bff Sylvia Browne. She could come to my house and talk to them and it would be really fun or terrifying because while Sylvia may be a psychic she is NOT a trained Jesuit and I doubt she knows Latin. Latin appears to be the key.

But at least the hinge company lady won't be slowly typing replies to me. She has a phone, unlike the company-rhyming-with-hype who help others use phone but don't have any for themselves. Sad company pants.

Stay tuned for a helpful blog post on why you shouldn't trust a fruity drink that someone mixes in a giant tub.

Comments, questions, what's your irony of the week?