Anger is a Gift

We all get angry. Lately, I've been pretty good about not getting angry about stuff. Last night was a huge exception. I was, in the words of the lispy Dan Dierdorf, apoplectic. That could very well be the understatement of the year.

I had to pick up a newly hemmed suit at the tailor last night, after which I was slated to drop by a local sushi place to grab our dinner order; I had phoned it in before I left for the tailor. As I drove over to get the suit, I phoned into my bank's customer service hotline to change up the accounts as they're linked to my debit card. It's a very simple procedure, which I know because I've worked for banks and I've performed this very task. I've even worked for my bank, on this very same system they still use. It's a piece of cake. Soooooo...nineteen minutes later, I get a confirmation from the woman on the other end of the phone that she has completed the task and wonders if there's anything else she can help me with. I'm slightly agitated at this point due to the holding time, but nothing near apoplectic just yet. I politely told her I was all set and hung up.

Next, I run into the tailor, grab my suit and head over to the sushi place to get our dinner. The two are a mere half mile from each other, but parking on Newbury St. in Boston is a nightmare. So I throw the hazards on and run into the restaurant, leaving my Ion double parked. I wait patiently for the Japanese lady to run my debit card so I can pay for the food, but she's taking a long time. I figure that there's maybe a few people trying to run cards and it's not big deal. She returns to me and tells me that the card has come up 'cancelled', and she tried three times to get it to work. Immediately I know what has happened, and I'm not happy. I tell her I have to go call my bank and she gives me this look that says "yeah, I think you better", only with a Japanese accent. Just what I needed.

I call into my bank and spend another fifteen minutes on hold. About 10 minutes into that call, a cop made me move my double parked car, so I'm now just circling the block over and over. The result of this call with my bank was not good, as Wayne (the call center Manager) told me that since the card was cancelled (by accident and the fault of the bank) it could not be reactivated. I would be receiving a card in the mail which they would overnight to me, but being that it was Thursday evening, this card could not arrive before Monday. This is not good. And as I sat in my car yelling at this man who I don't know and who also didn't do anything wrong, I began to feel bad. I explained to Wayne that, while it wasn't his fault directly, he represents the bank and ultimately the people that he manages and thus, it's indirectly his fault that one of his reps is under-trained and utterly incompetent. He concurs but reiterates that he's doing everything he can to assist me. I tell him that I appreciate his efforts, but ultimately that it is amazing how easily one's bank can bend him over and drill him in the ass without consequence. AMAZING. He chuckles for a second, but only until I snap at him and say that he's not allowed to laugh at this situation yet. Again, he concurs. He asks the name of the rep that drilled me in the ass and I cannot remember. He tells me he'd fire her if he knew who it was, but why not just try and train her so she actually knows what she's doing? Unfortunately that was not my first thought after he offered the firing solution...I'd have requested she be set on fire.

The end of the story saw me counting out pennies from the coin slot in my console and then dropping a pile change onto the counter at the sushi place. The woman was so not pleased with me for this act, but what else could I do? I couldn't use my card and luckily, I had juuuust enough change and cash to cover the bill. Truth is, they fucked up my order and it was cheaper than it would have been so I was saved by their error...kind of ironic that one error sort of aided me in the wake of another one that boned me.