My Most Embarrassing Moment
If you're one of theose people who likes to know the end first--I do, I admit--I can tell you this story ends up just dandy. It's kind of a love story.
And, snappy headline aside, it's not really my MOST embarrassing moment, which has to do with someone's wife who I decided must be his mother, but that's another story for another day.
But, as usual, I digress.
This one happened on Valentine's Day, the one that's just past, and that's important. (Remember I said it's a love story.) And it has all kinds of other themes, like not jumping to conclusions, and not getting too angry too quickly, how misunderstandings can occur, and the dangers of being addicted to email. And true love. It's very Saki, actually.
So.
I was riding along in the back seat of our news car, pretty happy. My producer was in the front, since she alleges she gets car sick--right, I've never seen it happen, but for years she's insisted on the front, so fine, so there I am in the back. My photographer drives. He's a guy, they drive. I think it's a union thing.
But I'm pretty comfortable in the back.There's a holder for lattes, and I can spread out my purse and tote bag and have a little mobile office. The 'little mobile office' got a lot cooler when I got my notebook computer and aircard. That brilliant little invention gives me wireless EVERYWHERE, how, I don't know, but I love it.
So I'm in the backseat, doing my email, sneaking in a Facebook entry or two, thinkin'--this is pretty great. I can get my stuff accomplished, and it's so efficient, and I love technology.
Suddenly. The aircard stops working. I feel the email-withdrawal prickle at the back of my neck, but I think, oh, its probably something about towers or satellites or sunspots, however it works. So I reboot, start over. Nothing. Try it again. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.
Then, worse and worse. It begins to ask for passwords. Passwords? It doesn't need a stinkin' password. It demands passwords and access codes and downloads and all kinds of stuff I don't know what means. And I know how the aircard is supposed to work--plug it it, it works. This one--all of a sudden--doesn't.
So. First mistake. I call customer service. Shall I just skip the ordeal? I'm trapped in an impenetrable maze of phone tree where I'm supposed to remember to push 5 or whatever , while I listen to the other options which might be--but never are--more appropriate.
Suffice it to say that it ends with me saying: This is the WORST customer service I ever had, I don't even know why you call it service. Then I said-- embarrassed and knowing I was WAY too cranky and besides there are two people in the front seat hearing every word--I know it's not your fault but my AIR CARD doesn't work, and I can't figure out why.
Did you pay your bill? The guy asks. AUGH. YES YES I PAID THE BILL. Which I had.
Huh, he says. Sounds like it's broken.
BROKEN?
So, happily , we are right by a store that sells these things, I don't want to say the name but let's call it Merizon. I say to my photographer--hang on. I'm just gonna run into the Merizon store. I go in. Show 'em the problem. The say: did you pay your bill?
YES!!! I say. I PAID THE BILL. The AIRCARD IS BROKEN. Can't you see??
YOU HAVE TO FIX IT BECAUSE I NEED MY EMAIL.
I am really mad. Way way too mad. But now I am on a mad roll. Which is not helped when the clerk says--I think you need tech support. I say--aren't YOU tech support??? They say no, you have to call.
CALL?
So back in the car, I call the special tech support number.
MY AIRCARD DOESNT WORK. IT WANTS PASSWORDS. WHY WHY WHY? is along the lines of what I was saying.
The guy pauses, and says, huh. Were you just in the Merizon store? A little while ago?
Yes, I say.
Well, he says, I see that on your record. And when you went in there, they turned off your aircard.
What? What? What? NO, they didn't, I say. (Can you hear the dismissive sarcasm here?) They didn't do anything but ask me if I paid the bill. WHICH I DID. They don't even have enough information to turn it off. No, that didn't happen. It was off BEFORE I went into the store. Are you kidding me?
Etc etc.
Well, the guys says. Someone turned off your aircard. What can I say?
What can you say??? I'm afraid I was a little shrill. You can tell me why the heck someone is in my ACCOUNT and--
Ma'am? the guy says. His voice is kind of quiet. Um. Did you buy an iPad today?
BUY AN IPAD?? No, I did NOT buy an--oh.
Silence. I think about the conversation I had with my husband in the car this morning. And a few--more than a few--other times. About how I'd really love an iPad. Not that I need one, I always added, but it would just be--so nice. And I know his Merizon account is the same as my Merizon account.
And now I see what happened.
If my husband bought an iPad, I tentatively begin, would that turn off my aircard?
Oh, yes, the guy says. You wouldn't need both things.
I burst out laughing. OH, my gosh, I said. My husband bought me an iPad for Valentine's Day! As a surprise!
Yes, the guy said. It looks like that's what happened. He was in a Merizon store about an hour ago. I didn't want to ruin the suprise, he said. But you were so--upset...
I'm howling with laughter. I'm roaring with laughter. Mary and Kurt in the front seat are unabashedly eavesdropping now. (Instead of pretending not to listen as their colleague went off on a tirade.)
Okay, I say to the guy. I see what happened now. Okay. Um, thank you.
And just to make the whole thing even more memorable:
"Ma'am?" the customer service guy finally says. "When you get the iPad tonight? You should act surprised."
And we all lived happiPadly ever after.
