Quirk can kiss my dimpled white ass

Seriously.  I find dealership service centers to be immoral on a good day.  At times, criminal even.  Below is the letter I fired off to GM, the Better Business Bureau, and the dealership itself.  This reminds me of the Best Buy clusterfuck… dear lord, I am so exhausted.

 

To Whom It May Concern:

I am writing to express my dissatisfaction with the service provided to my Saturn vehicle by GM/Chevrolet. This service, or lack thereof, has cost me money and threatens my safety and well-being, as I am not currently driving a safe vehicle.

Here is what happened:

1) In June 2009, I purchased a 2008 Saturn Astra. The vehicle was brand new with 14 miles on it.

2) In 2011, my horn stopped working. On July 29, 2011 I brought my car to Quirk Chevrolet in Manchester, NH – the local GM branch that was servicing Saturn vehicles. They informed me that there was a technical service bulletin for this vehicle, and “fixed” the horn free of charge. According to the invoice, the bulletin doc id# was 2551417. (I have not yet been able to locate this bulletin id or its description anywhere online.)

3) Despite the “service” I received, I continued to periodically have issues with the horn, as well as the radio controls located on the steering wheel. I was reluctant to bring it back to Quirk because, when I called to ask about the problem, I was told that I would be charged a diagnostic fee until they could determine if it was the “exact same issue” I had before. Quirk’s diagnostic fee is $95 – a price I could not afford to take a chance on.

4) I noticed that, when the horn did not work, it correlated with the radio volume control on the steering wheel (right hand side) not working. If I tried to raise the volume and could not, I immediately knew the horn was not functioning.

5) At the start of this year, the horn (and volume control) ceased to work at all. I knew I could not put it off any longer. (Unfortunately, my mechanic was unable to do the work. He indicated that he thought it was a problem with the transmission between the horn signal and the modem of my vehicle. An idea that Quirk NEVER brought up, btw.) I went back to Quirk.

6) On March 8, 2014, I went to Quirk’s service center. I explained the situation, including the detail that when the volume control did not work, neither did the horn. I paid a $95 diagnostic fee, and they looked at my car for over 3 hours. I was told by my liaison, Fred, that I needed a switch in my steering wheel. I then paid another $54.98 for the “switch”. I had to wait for the part to arrive, so it was not until March 22, 2014 that my car was “fixed”. On that day, I paid another $66.50 for labor. Total cost to me was $216.48.

7) The very next day (Sunday), I drove to the grocery store. I tried to raise the volume on the radio and it did not work. Neither did my horn. I called Quirk the following Monday and was told to bring it back.

8) I brought it back in on March 28, 2014 and that is when I discovered, from talking with Fred, that the “switch” they replaced was for the radio control only. They did not do any repair to fix the horn because the horn worked when they looked at it. Fred also tried to charge me another $95 to look at my car again. I told him that I was not paying that amount because they obviously had not fixed the problem that I originally brought my car in there for. Quirk was unable to do anything at this time because, once again, the horn was working.

9) On April 22, 2014, my horn was not working (again). I immediately drove it to Quirk. Unfortunately, it started working on the way there. Once again, they could do nothing. But I was told that they would research service bulletins, etc. I am not sure why they did not do this from the beginning. I told them this was important, as it is a safety hazard. I have no idea when my horn will or won’t work!

10) I still have not heard from Fred or anyone else at Quirk.

At this point, I am very upset. I paid over $200 to have a “switch” replaced that I probably did not need. I say that because the radio control STILL does not periodically work. THE SAME EXACT PROBLEMS WITH THE HORN AND THE RADIO STILL EXIST.

The horn in my vehicle still periodically does not work. And I do not have time to drive to Quirk every time it happens. I have a job. Where I need to make money to pay for repairs I don’t need, evidently.

I am extremely disappointed with the fact that Quirk is unable to help me and seems unwilling to help. I am upset that my safety is at risk because Quirk was too lazy to look up technical service bulletins (I recently found one poking around on my own – SB-10276 indicates a problem with loose wiring in the Saturn Astra that could cause the horn to periodically not function properly). I am horrified I’ve had to shell out as much money as I have for a repair I most likely did not need. I am saddened that it is just this type of scenario that makes me despise dealership service centers. I can assure you, I will never set foot there again.

The exception would be if 1) you arranged for me to be refunded the money I have spent that I clearly did not need to spend because nothing has been fixed, and 2) you promised me the problem WOULD BE FIXED PERMANENTLY.

I recommend that you train your service staff to be more thorough and to care more about the safety of your customers.

Sincerely,

THIS BITCH (no, I signed my real name)

 

 

Advertisements

Seriously, scammers? Don’t bother calling me.

.

This is a new one…

.

Caller: May I speak with the person who would be responsible for using the computer in the household?

Me: That would be me.

Caller: I’m calling from Microsoft Office business (blah blah) and your computer has been sending error messages.

Me: Really?  So, Microsoft has been getting error messages from my computer?

Caller: Yes.  You will need to go and make sure your computer is on.  It has been receiving viruses.

Me: So, you have been getting these messages from my Microsoft Office applications?

Caller: Yes, I am calling from Microsoft Office services and we have been receiving these warnings.

Me: Just to be clear, you are getting these error messages from the Microsoft tools on my computer?

Caller: Yes.  Your computer has been breached and we need to act fast.

Me: You do know that I don’t have Microsoft on my computer, right?

*click*

.

Do people actually fall for this shit?

.

Update on my life and other spiralling-out-of-control things…

Two posts in one day!  Is it the apocalypse??

__________

Still no job.  As of right now, I have applied for 83 jobs.  Recently, one of my friends asked, “So, do you think 100 is the magic number here?”

Perhaps.  Let’s hope it’s not 150.

The State of NH unemployment.  Sucks.  Ass.

I am getting the maximum amount anyone can get on unemployment, and it is (after taxes) $384/week.  After I deduct my mortgage and condo fee, I am left with $233.  That $233 has to pay my phone, internet, electric, gas, food, plus anything else that comes up periodically – like an oil change or a new issue of Fangoria.

To say I have been in panic mode is like saying Sylvia Plath was a little melancholy.  I have been FREAKing.

__________

I am a list maker.  I love lists.  I like making lists of things I need to do and then crossing off those things.  I think of things to do and then add them to the list so I can cross them off 3 minutes later.

Examples of things that have been on my list as of late:

  • Clean litter
  • Balance checkbook
  • Get a life

__________

My cat seems fine.  For now.  He gave me a scare the other day when he started acting all weird and hiding under the bed.  I was relieved/irritated to find he had just vomited under there.

__________

My health continues to be very good.  I did, however, play my MS card recently.  My friend Amanda assures me it is my card to play and I can play it whenever I want – and I am judicious about playing it.  But I did not feel bad about playing it this time.  At.  All.

AT&T tried to charge me a $95 early termination fee for switching over to Verizon two days before my contract officially ended.  I believe my email to customer service went something like: “I am unemployed and have multiple sclerosis and that was the only day I could go get my new phone.  Seriously??”  (This is mostly true, in a roundabout way.  It was freakishly hot that week and the heat bothers my MS.  I had to go when I was able to stand it.)

I got an almost immediate reply stating that “no” they were not going to charge the MS lady for the early termination of 48 hours.

Yeah, I didn’t think you were.

.

I’m not funny and I think I scare people.

When it comes to men, I have a “type”.  That type is typically pasty white (from being inside a lot), pudgy (perhaps from not being outside that much), intelligent, and cuttingly sarcastic.  And by “intelligent” I mean freakishly so.  And by “cuttingly sarcastic”, I mean he is sometimes offensive and makes people cry.

I know.  It seems very specific.  I have a very specific type.

I also have a thing for gingers (if you’ve never heard the term, it’s red-haired men).

You don’t have to tell me I have narrowed down my dating pool significantly with all these specifics.  This is evidenced by the lack of dates I am going on.

.

I get very excited when I see famous people who fit most or all of these criteria.  Philip Seymour Hoffman is one of them.  I don’t know if he is cuttingly sarcastic, but many of his roles require this trait so I can easily transpose it onto him.  I love this man.  I find him endlessly attractive.  I have always secretly loved Danny Bonaduce, but he lacks any modicum of decency, so he’s out.  Kevin McKidd is absolutely dreamy, but I see no trace of sarcasm in him.  And Seth Green?  Oh my gosh, I have loved him for ages.  He’s married to a super hot model/actress but I don’t hold that against him.  He is fantastically talented.

.

And then there is Louis CK.  This man is brilliantly funny.  His latest TV show “Louie” is, at times, very funny.  But mostly it is cringe-inducing awkward.  Which makes it funny.  You know?

Anyway, in another move I can file under “shit I do that makes me look like a crazy mofo“, I sent Louis CK a message.  It stated:

.

“I totally missed the boat on getting tickets to one of the nine hundred shows you’re doing in Boston. I also missed out on the one in Portland, ME. I basically suck at life.
I have you seen you before a few times and I am hoping this carries me through the depression that I am most likely going to fall into because of my inability to pay attention to shit.
I live in southern NH, though, so if you want to hang out and have coffee while you’re around, let me know. I have a thing for gingers (it’s true), but I’d leave it at just coffee.”

.

Really?  Really, Heather?

Yes, really.  And in my unrealistic fantasy, Louis CK actually takes me up on my offer, and then he and I become the best of friends.  My new best friend Louis comes with me to parties and events and some of his new jokes are about our adventures together.

And while I know this is unrealistic, some strange part of me still thinks it might happen.  Because if I can’t imagine a non-existing friendship with Louis CK, then my life is OVER.

.

I need a job.  Soon.  I have way too much time on my hands.

.

Mixing up my phrases and whatnot…and being a douche.

Last night, I went to Barnes & Noble (my mecca) with a friend.  When we arrived, we had a couple of choices for parking, and we decided that we would take “the pull through” spot (the spot that you pull through to from the space behind it so that you are facing out of the spot – ready to go).

And the conversation actually went like that – “wanna take that one or the pull through?”

Then…

we both said that “the pull through” sounded like it could be a sexual euphemism of some sort.

And the conversation went like this:

Me: “It sounds like something dirty.”

Friend: “I know!”

Me: “You know, it sounds like you’re saying something like….fruit salad.”

.

Fruit salad.

.

?????

.

And my friend rolled with it (mainly because she had no fucking clue what I was talking about) and laughed and said, “yeah, you’re right.”

.

But, then I thought…what the fuck is “fruit salad” a euphemism for?

Answer: It’s not a euphemism for anything.  (Well, not that I am aware of anyway.)

.

Then it dawned on me.  And I said, “Nope, sorry.  I am mixing up my euphemisms.”

I then explained to my friend that what I meant to say was “tossing the salad“.  And I mixed that up with another colorful euphemism – “the fruit cup“.

.

Silly me.

.

We laughed and 3 1/2 minutes later, still giddy from all the weird euphemisms, we were in the bookstore and looking at magazines.  My friend looked at an entertainment magazine featuring The Hunger Games and I looked at a cerebral pompous film critique magazine (yes, I bought it), and an Asian gentleman was on his blue tooth looking at magazines near the floor.  We started discussing the upcoming Hunger Games film, at which point the Asian gentleman looked up, gestured toward my friend, said, “Nice [something in a heavy Asian accent]”, and then walked away.

.

My friend looked at me and said, “What did he just say?”

I looked at her and, with all the solemnity I could muster, whispered, “He said ‘nice tits‘”.

Her face went blank for a second before she realized I was being a shit and said, “No, he did not!”

I said, “You don’t know that.  He might have said nice tits.  He may have even asked for a fruit salad.”

.

FedEx left a package and I still want to throat punch them

If you recall (all 4 of you who read this blog), I was irked with FedEx.  It seemed as if they (along with all other package carriers) pick and choose when they leave packages.  And you know what?

I WAS RIGHT.

Last week, I was due a FedEx package on Wednesday 7/27.  I got home and had a “we were here” slip.  Or, really it’s more like “we come when we know you’re at work…nah nah nanny boo boo”.  Of course, it did not say I could sign the slip and they’d leave it.  It said that I could come pick it up myself or they’d be back the next day (when I would still not be home).  So, this time I decided…

FUCK IT.  THEY CAN KEEP TRYING AND THEN TAKE THE FUCKING PACKAGE BACK.

.

On Thursday, there was no new slip – only the old slip I purposefully left on the door so they’d either think 1) she’s not around, or 2) she’s around and planning how to throat punch all FedEx carriers.  But I knew they’d been there a second time because the online tracking told me…

.

On Friday, I really was going to be gone and not home until Sunday.  So, again, my thought was…

FUCK IT.  THEY CAN TAKE THE FUCKING PACKAGE BACK AND WHEN THE COMPANY WHO SENT ME THE PACKAGE CALLS ME I’LL TELL THEM THAT IF THEY EVER USE FEDEX AGAIN I’LL THROAT PUNCH THEM TOO.

.

On Sunday, I return and….There.  Is.  My.  Damn.  Package.

On the 3rd and final attempt, they left the package.  I looked online and there was a note indicating they were “authorized to leave the package”.

WHAT THE HELL??

.

Couple things wrong with this:

1) they were not authorized to leave the package by me because THAT WAS NOT AN OPTION THE FIRST TWO TIMES

2) does FedEx know when I am not going to be home?  because it seems awfully suspicious that they won’t leave the package when I’m there but WILL leave it when I am out of town

.

THEY ARE FUCKING WITH ME, DAMMIT.

.

Ok, FedEx.  You won this round.  But just know… GAME ON.

.

if FedEx had not left my package today, there would have been throat punching

Notice that when I spelled out would’ve in this blog title, it is “would have” and NOT “would of”.  Learn it and practice it, people-on-the-internet.

Carry on.

.

Right now, my rage with package carriers knows no bounds.  FedEx is today’s target, but it could just as easily have been UPS (next time you don’t leave my “signature waived”, refrigerated, $12,000 medication at my home, Herr UPS Man, be prepared to wear some protective gear at all times…just sayin’).

FedEx is not typically crappy about leaving packages.  But I have learned over time that leaving a package is up to the driver’s discretion.  This is based on where you live and the traffic in your mail area.

.

*Note: I live in a small town in New Hampshire, in a condo development that consists mainly of elderly people.  It is DAN-GER-OUS.

.

UPS is the one who normally makes my life hell.  Sometimes they leave a package, sometimes they don’t.  Sometimes they leave a slip for me to sign so they can leave it, sometimes they make me pick it up at their warehouse.  Mind you… these are all actions completely independent of what the shipper has asked for.  Even if there is no signature required, UPS has done all of these things.  And I am convinced they were done JUST TO FUCK WITH ME.

Until just recently, FedEx would always leave my packages (unless they were specifically signature required).  But their record of not pissing me off has been broken.

.

Here’s the timeline:

7/16 FedEx attempted to deliver to my home

7/18 I found out FedEx attempted to deliver to my home because I checked the tracking number online – NO SLIP WAS LEFT ON MY DOOR.

7/18 Called FedEx, asked why no slip was left (reply: “driver is not doing his job correctly”) and why the package was not left as there was no signature required (reply: “I have no idea”).  Was told a note would be sent to the driver to leave the package.  Was also told they would not be attempting to deliver again until 7/19 because DID YOU KNOW FEDEX DOES NOT ATTEMPT HOME DELIVERY ON MONDAYS?  NEITHER DID I.

7/19 Came home and no package.  And also, hey, whattaya know… NO MOTHERFUCKING SLIP ON MY DOOR.  I checked online, and, yep, they made another attempt.

7/19 I called FedEx AGAIN.  Only this time, when asked “how can I help you?”, I replied “I am not sure because I am very very angry right now”.

.

Note: This is my new tactic so that I avoid blasting some pee-0n phone person who not only does not care but really cannot do anything for me without going through seventeen supervisors.  Now, when I am especially peeved, I start right off by telling the person I am very angry and that they might as well cut to the chase and send me to a supervisor RIGHT NOW.

.

7/19 Relayed the story YET AGAIN.  Was told YET AGAIN that a note would be sent to the driver.  When I mentioned this had been done before and how could I possibly trust anything this person says when I have been oh-so-misled already, I was told “I don’t see a note in the record that you spoke with anyone”.

What?  BALLS.  BALLS.  BALLS.  SCROTUM.

Ok, so my next comment to this person (in the most menacing voice I could muster) was: “what if my package is still not left tomorrow?”  The subtext was “if my package is not left tomorrow, I will indiscriminately throat punch every FedEx driver I see, guilty or not, until justice is served”.

This person’s reply, however, was: “Let’s cross that bridge when we get to it.”  (Unless it was the Throat Punching Bridge of America, I would not be crossing any bridge with FedEx.)

And then she said, “I will leave a note for the driver explaining what you just told me, and that there is no signature required, and would he please please please leave the package.”

.

Note: Oh, I get it.  The person I spoke to the day before must have only used two “please’s”.

.

Well, as you can tell from the title, my package was left.  I checked online.  I am not even home yet.  But I have been checking every hour since 7:30 this morning.  And it’s there.  I hope.

If you are a FedEx driver, you better hope so too.

.

Why It Is Important to Follow Directions:

So, when your sleeping bag gives washing instructions that say “Front load washer.  Wash in cold water on delicate cycle.”, it really really means them.

Because a cold water wash on a delicate cycle in a top loading washer is akin to handing a 5 year old your sleeping bag and a pair of scissors.  Except without any blood loss…  uh…

So, as a better analogy, it is like rubbing your sleeping bag with bacon fat and handing it to a bear.

.

.

The End.

.

YES, PEOPLE USE THE BATHROOM.

Pet Peeve #472…

When you walk out of a bathroom at work, and someone walking in exclaims that you startled them and then says “sorry” for being in the doorway.

.

There is so much about this scenario that pisses me off, I don’t even know where to begin.

1) It is a bathroom.  That multiple people use.  There will, from time to time, be someone coming out of it.  That’s how it works.  You go in.  You come out.  One cannot stay in there forever.  The only time this situation should “scare” you is if the person coming out has no clothes on and is screaming “I tinkled!!!”

2) Only say you’re sorry if you actually did something to be sorry for.  If you are walking through a doorway and did not know someone was on the other side of the door, there is no blatant offense here.  Just step aside.  Standing there and mumbling sorry, but yet not moving out of the way, is what you should REALLY be sorry for.

.

So, today, a woman walking in the bathroom as I was walking out, and who by the way did not seem all that “startled”, spazzed at me.

“Oh, sorry!  Ooh!”  *jumps a little, spazzes, stands in the way, finally moves….AT ME*

She spazzed so hard in my direction, I was forced to hit the door frame and caught my shirt on the metal and now I have a hole in my shirt.

.

All because it is completely inexplicable that someone would be walking out of a public bathroom.

.

Fuuuuck.

.

I’ll take “Macabre Family Humor” for $500, Alex.

As some of you (my two readers) may know, my grandfather passed away in January of this year.

His wish, for as long as I can remember, has been to be cremated.  (The only time he ever wavered from this was one night several years ago.  After returning home from an emergency trip to the hospital, my aunt started throwing blankets on him and in his weary state he muttered, “Just throw dirt on me.”)  Along with that cremation wish, he also requested that his ashes be put into a Maxwell House coffee can and buried in the backyard.

Alas, the cremation/burial laws don’t allow this.  I now know a lot about cremation.  More than I wanted to know.

Here are the things I learned:

  • you must be inside a casket of some type to be cremated

I know, right?  You thought you might save money.  Granted, you can buy what is essentially the equivalent of a cardboard box, but still..even that is a few hundred dollars.  FOR A CARDBOARD BOX.  (My aunt actually asked the funeral director if we could swing on down to Hannaford and pick one up there.)  And lest you think I am being disrespectful of the dead, may I remind you my grandfather wanted to be buried in a coffee can.  And that’s not because he loved Maxwell House with all his heart.  My mom is still not convinced he won’t come back and haunt us for buying one grade up on the cardboard box.

  • you must be in an urn

This is what you traditionally think of putting a loved one in.  It can be the vase shaped kind or a nice box.  We went with the nice carved wood box, even though we were ever mindful of how my grandfather would react to the exorbitant cost.  The dilemma was solved when my mom said, “Just because he was cheap doesn’t mean we have to be.”  Duly noted.

  • the urn must be in this larger sealed container called a vault and this is what actually gets buried

CHA-CHING!!  This container must be of a sturdy substance (like rare stone made from the center of a rock dug up by 18th century monks at the base of Mt Kilimanjaro on a full moon on a Tuesday or some shit like that), and the urn is sealed inside it prior to being buried.

.

Fast forward a little later.  Half of my grandfather’s ashes were set aside for my grandmother – and for whoever else in the family might want some.  (This all came about in a pressure ridden moment at the funeral parlor.)  This half was put inside a simple bronze urn – a LARGE one.  Like, it’s possible my grandfather can still protect his house if we throw that thing at an intruder.  And because my grandmother is still not ready for him to be “sitting out”, as it were, his urn is in the liquor cabinet.

That last bit is pretty awesome, by the way.

.

Due to the snap decision back in January to put half of my grandfather’s remains aside in this way, it poses a bit of a challenge in giving other members of the family some of his ashes.

We have small “keepsake” urns on the way as I type this – little 3 inch urns so we can all have our little bit of Grampop.  (And every time I think about this, I shudder because 1) it’s morbid, and 2) my grandfather would knuckle all of us in the back of the head and tell us we were a bunch of stupid peckerheads for spending all this money and divvying up his ashes like a bunch of goddammed fools.)

.

The challenge is this: How do we get the ashes from the big urn into the little tiny urns?

.

My mom and I sort of talked about it at one point, and my suggestion (after a brief discussion on what household tool might be sacrificed for this project) was that my mom ask the funeral director to do it for us.  She thought that might be a good idea.

.

Fast forward to today.  Tomorrow is the memorial service for my grandfather.  My grandmother is wary, upset, sad (as we all are) and is also not quite understanding that the urn she has is staying with her.  My mom has repeatedly explained that tomorrow we are only burying half of his ashes.  The urn my grandmother has is ours to do what we like.

So, I asked my mom if she had spoken to the funeral director.  She had not.  The subsequent conversation went like this:

Mom: “Well, if it’s not too dusty, I don’t mind using a spoon to get the ashes in the small urns.”

Me: “Dusty??  It’s ashes.”

Mom: “Well, I know…”

Me: “Furthermore…the dusty ashes?  It’s Grampop.”

Mom: “Yes, well…maybe we can get a small funnel.  That would help.”

.

Believe it or not, she would probably do this.  I might let her, if for no other reason than that I could tell stories that start with “Remember that time you were spooning Grampop into the small urns…?”

But I probably won’t let her.  She and I both have decided we probably won’t speak at his service because how do you explain how much someone meant to you without breaking down and weeping in front of them?  So, I can’t let my mom spoon the ashes because I am pretty sure they need to stay dry.  Plus, I love my mom.

.

And, Grampop?  Sorry about the ashes stuff.  And for not using a coffee can.  And for spending too much money on your casket.  And for having a memorial service you did not want.

And for the spoon jokes.  Even though I think they might make you laugh a little.

.

And, Grampop?  I still miss you.

.