Store Rants

The needy squad…

“I need a gift. It should be really thoughtful and perfect! But I can only spend $10. My friend likes tea, dolphins, teddy bears, hearts, the letter ‘Q’, purple and Mahjong”. After about 10 minutes of walking around making umpteen hundred suggestions, I totally gave up. And she was surprised that I gave up. I can’t make sense of it.

Call me crazy but I don’t own a store so I can entertain an 8 year old who is supposed to care for a toddler strapped into a carrier placed inches from me for some reason. Said toddler was screaming at the top of his lungs and instead of tending to her son, the mother yelled at the 8-year old daughter to take care of “it” from another room. And, being female, most other females assume I would just jump at the chance to cuddle with a baby. Actually, no. A baby’s cry doesn’t send me into lactating fits, it actually makes me want to drink. Heavily. I feel bad for these kids. At least, from my deep conversation with the 8-year old, she is primed for a life in show business because she likes to sing. A lot. Maybe she thought I was auditioning because boy, she had a lot of spunk this afternoon. Oh, and she’s good at performing while distracted, too. Hell, if I was in her position I would whisk myself off to the world of make-believe, too. I love it when people tell their kids to take care of their other kids… frequently. Awesome.

The world is used to those Hallmark commercials where the neglected house-ridden house-coat wearing nice old lady is cheered up by the neighbor who puts a hot meal and a Hallmark card on her doorstep and runs away. The old lady opens the door and looks around, picking up the basket slowly and retreats into the house. She gets inside and opens the card and all of America starts reaching for the kleenex. Heck, I even well up when I see that. Even when re-telling the story of the nice neighbor I ooze kittens… “She got her soup and some mushy food with a card with a little birdie on it and… *I burst into tears*” Little do they know that the old lady is alone because she has completely driven her family away because she is evil and drowns puppies. I know I’m a cynic. I’m okay with it. I work in the world of thoughtful gifts and gift wrapping. I know what people are saying as they pick out a delightfully sweet gift for someone. A lot of times, they aren’t happy to be spending money on someone other than themselves. They aren’t happy while they are shopping… they are bitter. And being the sensitive a-hole that I am… I soak it all up… like a sponge. But, I digress…

Two heavy smokers came in… the store reeks of tobacco. One was super lonely and spent 20 minutes telling me and another unwilling customer her entire family history and how she video taped her grandmother’s stories that she told while in the late stages of dementia. She starts crying. I hugged her. This is not the first time I’ve hugged a stranger in my store. She wants to put together a video for the family of grandma telling stories and not making sense. Wow. Just. Wow. This isn’t in the top 3 most upsetting stories I have heard while behind my counter. But it’s up there. I think my top three involve death or killing… a confession of a vehicular death, a re-telling of how a young son passed away and one picture of a child in a hospital bed moments before he passed. Forever… it is stuck in my mind. These poor souls.

On the flip side, I’ve been told amazing stories of miracles and unconditional love. Children calling 911 and saving lives, babies surviving against the odds and car accidents with porn stars that shouldn’t have ended well, but they did. I’ve encountered so many new people, and they all shared their stories with me. A curse and a blessing.

Anyway… immediately after the intense moment and free counseling the phone rings…
“Hi, this is So-and-so, you should remember me… remember that christmas tree with the little snow buckets you had last year that you sold me? Do you have another one? And I need a snow person, do you have more of those?”

Need to snap back into gift store mode. But. Huh? What snow person? Who is this? I do have more than 5 customers.

The questions today get more vague and stupider every time I answer the phone. As long as the voldemorts don’t come in, I’m safe.

There is a family who dwells in this suburb. We have learned never to say their name because if you do, they’ll show up. It’s like Harry Potter and the Voldemort thing.

It’s very hard to explain just why they are so annoying. They remind me of Grimace, the large purple gumdrop-looking dopey mcdonald’s character. After looking it up on Wikipedia, it sort of suits them perfectly:

Grimace is a large, purple anthropomorphic being of the “wumpus” species with short arms and legs. One alternative theory is that Grimace is a large, walking, talking taste-bud[citation needed]. He is known for his slow-witted demeanor. His most common expression is the word “duh”. He was referred to as Ronald’s autistic friend on an episode of Family Guy. Originally, Grimace was the “Evil Grimace”, with two pairs of arms with which to steal milkshakes. After that first campaign, the character was revised to be one of the “good guys”, and his number of arms was reduced by two. Commercials and merchandise generally portrayed him as a well-meaning simpleton, whose clumsy antics provided a comic foil to Ronald McDonald. The character was retained after the streamlining of the characters in the ’80s.

Is it their lack of personal space? The sheer size of the entire group? The lack of a sound or opinion filter? The fact that the adults take out credit cards in their teenagers’ names and max them out? The fact that they have latched onto a local church and get all of their needs from the church goers? Rent, jobs, tuition, living expenses… all come out of this church somehow. And, I think the congregation is frustrated with them, too.

On about 10 different occasions we have joked about them, as one naturally would, and they would show up moments later. Restaurants, grocery stores, movie theaters, other states. It’s uncanny and totally creepy. Especially creepy when you can hear one or more of them before they round the corner. That’s when you run and/or hide because if you don’t, you’ll be stuck in a smalltalk loop. My mother has even been in line in front of one of them at the grocery store. He was on a rant about low fat ice cream. Apparently he was talking to the little rubber divider because she, the checker and the other two patrons were ignoring him. That’s how you have to handle them… ignore and then run away. I will repeat this until it sticks because you too may run into them.

So, one day, I ran out to run some errands. My cousin was managing the store. I come back and sure enough, this family has taken over my store. Like domestic cattle with opinions, they graze on our coffee and cookies and talk about NOTHING for hours.

My cousin is laughing uncontrollably and whispering/gesturing to me “I’ll tell you later”. Yes, this is funny.. but not that funny.

They finally leave 40 minutes later and my cousin runs to the bathroom. She opens the door to free a woman who had been hiding in the bathroom to avoid this family! FOURTY minutes she was in there just so she wouldn’t have to interact with them. So, now I know, it’s not just me…

We had a good laugh… until the next time they came in.

You have been warned.

we are never allowed…
to say the name of someone we haven’t seen in a while and who we do NOT want to see…. We passed George’s house the other night (a vendor who brings up furniture to sell… odd man who says things to me like… “you look tense, you need to get laid” and is just creepy and slimy. He’s his 60′s and has his ear pierced and a long, very long macho mustache…. so suave, dontcha think?) and I said aloud, “isn’t that George’s house? Oh great, now that we’ve said his name, he’ll show up.” Giggle giggle… little did I know who was about to grace us with his mustache.

George just came in… He revealed to me that he’s been in jail and that’s why we hadn’t seen him… he told me not to tell anyone the “morbid details”. Ummm… sure, but… I just did!

He’s a gypsy. He sniffs out bargains, will buy crap in bulk if it’s a good deal. Thinks everything has value if you hold onto it long enough, drives all over the country loading up on knick knacks and making deals. He’s odd, disgusting… but deep down, we’re kin… minus the wanting to sleep with young girls thing. But, the bottom line is… if you do NOT want to see someone, do not say their name. Having a store multiplies this law of nature. I will revisit this theory later.

I did some number crunching and depressed the hell out of myself. Turns out I’m making approximately $1.75 per hour by working here. I’ve taken home roughly $10,000 over the course of 3 years. I’m living the dream!! “Where do I sign up!?” you ask… well, I can help you… just take my hand and keep on reading.

A reality check of sorts…

Not only have I made $1.75, but on paper it says I took home more. (There was a “profit” and someone had to claim it). I had to pay income tax on money I didn’t see. Which is really strange? I need a new tax guy.

In the hopes that I can turn this around I started making subtle changes to how I run the business. A few mark-ups here, less discounts there… for example. Since gift wrap is a huge expense, I decided to start charging for gift wrap to offset the cost… not to make money on it, just to offset it a bit. But you’d think I was clubbing baby seals judging by the reactions of some of my customers.

I have a sign up saying we’ll have to charge a nominal fee of $1.00 for wrapping, but only on items under $15. This sounds fair, right? When you go to Macy’s or Old Navy you PAY for a freaking box, let alone wrap with a big bow. These ladies are having a fit. “Well I guess I shouldn’t ask for a bow now if THAT is going to cost a DOLLAR! Is THIS considered wrapping (pointing to tissue I used to pad an ornament), do I have to pay for THIS??” Everyone has an opinion and dog-gone-it, they’re gonna tell you! Really what I was trying to avoid was the wrapping of dozens of items that cost less than the gift wrap. Like the story to follow…

Customer came in today and purchases 20 little bath pouf thingies. They are 89 cents each. She then proceeds to ask me to gift wrap them in “substantial” gift bags because they are going to be favors at a church bazaar thing. I offer her a clear cello bag with a sticker. “No, these are supposed to be PRESENTS. They need to look bigger than they are. Besides, this is free advertising for you, you’d be a fool not to take this opportunity.” I like it when people tell me what to do and what I’ll be if I don’t listen to them. Where would I be without the guidance of strangers??!

I’m not a math wiz, but… let me show you how this breaks down so the insanity will be crystal clear:

Bath Pouf – 89 cents. My cost 45 cents. That’s 44 cents profit.
Gift bag + tissue + ribbon + sticker = .33+.10+.15+.05 = 63 cents each to wrap
She’s paying with a credit card. That’s 25 cents plus 2.5% off the top.
Let’s see how this all comes out:
20 poufs x .89 = 17.80 + tax = $19.27
using credit card (19.27 x 2.5%) = .48 + .25 swipe fee = 73 cents in fees
So, $19.27 (total I took from her)
Minus $1.59 (to tax)
Minus $0.73 (credit card processing fees)
Minus $9.00 (cost of poufs)
Minus $12.60 (cost of gift wrap)
equals this transaction COSTING me $4.65.

Do you think I got any business from this transaction?? Nope. But, yes, yes I did it and didn’t charge her extra or argue. I was a good little obedient little elf. I feel like a schmuck for giving into her demands but involve “the church” or the baby Jesus and I can’t say no. I’ll go to hell.

That reminds me of two other stories…

But, in the end of the wrapping saga, what I did was this. I went from premium boxes, tissue, ribbon and gift bags to the cheaper, less exciting versions. I really cut corners instead of raising prices. For the super special people I brought out the fancy gift wrap, but the cheapskates got satin and kraft paper. Dammit.

I’m a sitting duck. Part 2.

I’ve made some “friends” while at the store. They think we can collaborate and be perfect chums. There is a certain “friend” who keeps pressuring me to do some design work for her really cheap. She makes dolls. I hate dolls. Even really pretty delicate dolls. They freak me out. I don’t own one. (okay, I lie… I still have a cabbage patch kid somewhere). But, they creep me out. I will not sell them in my store, and I obviously do not want to do art based on said dolls. I think the doll thing goes back to a combination of three movies/TV shows: Poltergeist, assorted Twilight Zones and the Melting Man showcased on Elvira.

Since opening the store, I’m learning how to set up boundaries. I’ve never really had them before, and “no” was rarely in my vocabulary. But after getting burned too many times, I’m learning that enough is enough and my time… it is actually valuable.

I’ve been setting up boundaries left and right. I can only help you on tuesday, don’t call me on sunday… working with who I want to work with and when. No consignment, no buying anyone’s crap anymore, even well-priced crap unless I love it to death. It’s been fantastic.

While at the store, having a glorious day, a family member marches in and reminds me that I must attend thanksgiving this year because I didn’t go last year. What will actually happen if I don’t show up? I’m really bored with these false emergencies.

If you own a holiday-centric business, you must remind everyone you are surrounded by that if they have time off on their little calendar, chances are, you do not. They will continue to try to twist your arm during these times. Make sure to stand your ground.

Thanksgiving week is by FAR our busiest week AND it’s my very very very last day off for 30 days. I don’t wanna do nothing. I’ll come to work on thanksgiving day, clean up, set stuff up… say a prayer and go home and sleep aaallll dayyyy long. That’s become my ritual. Can someone explain why “the holidays” coincide with “Obligations”? Obligated to get presents, obligated to cool, obligated to hang out with your family, obligated to pretend you like them. The obligations… the guilt. And if I do grow a backbone and keep my own schedule, one or more family team members show up at the shop to put me in my place. The relentless cornering at the store. Like a caged animal. Everyone knows that when I’m in my store I can’t yell, use obscenities or throw things. I *love* to throw things… usually towards the head of those who oppose me. (Ooh, I’m having domestic violence lust). Again, this goes back to boundaries. I need strong great-wall-of-china like boundaries. I’ll put a few bricks down now. If you think you want a store, dear reader, I suggest you write down who would come bother you at your store and how you will displace your anger when they won’t leave. (And really, I’m not violent… nor do I really have a temper. Unless you are one of two people and to you I say… “duck”.)

When cornering you physically at the store didn’t work, one family member resorted to shock and horror via the phone.

me: me
OL: the old lady (family member)

calls me at work…
OL: are you with a customer?
me: no, but I’m busy
OL: well, you aren’t busy then… I was at a restaurant and saw this dog. (she loves dogs, gets irritated that I don’t bring mine to see her) her name is “Mary” (which happens to be my name, so she repeats it). Mary came over and I made love to her all afternoon. I pet her and…
me: what??
OL: (sounding like she’s reading from a script) I made love to Mary all afternoon and she just loved it…
me: ummmm… (okay okay… I know old people sometimes call cigarettes “fags” because that’s what they used to be called… but last I checked “making love” to a dog doesn’t mean what she is saying it means. Does anyone know why the urge to get attention would be powerful enough to prompt the purposeful misuse of verbs here???)

She then announces that she wants to come up to the store and “help” tomorrow. Help usually consists of insulting me in front of the customers then storming out when I get angry. It’s this cat and mouse game that isn’t cute nor special and I really don’t have the patience for it anymore.

I work in a fishbowl. Big, overgrown ape-like people come and tap on that bowl loudly which makes me swim in circles. I need ape-repellent.

I feel like I’m sinking today. No amount of lattes, kitten pictures or balloon animals will put a smile on this face. How do I get this attitude out of the gutter?

One-by-one they come in and annoy me. How is it possible that there are this many annoying people in this suburb? Bathroom use is at an all-time high. How can I reject the sad puppy face of the pregnant or recently stomach-bypassed woman? You just can’t. I can be heartless, but that’s an all-time low.

Then, there’s the sitting duck syndrome. Trying to limit contact with someone and own a store? Think again.

A lovely family member came in today… “you are TRYING to avoid me… why are you TRYING to avoid me??!?!?” and then proceeded to tell me all about her medical problems one by one. A laundry list, as a few customers listened on. This included removing more than one article of clothing to show me a bruise or lesion. I almost saw genitals. It was terrible. In the process, she threw in a few insults about my weight including the “you look pregnant” jab. Always in season.

About an hour later, yet another family member came in…primed and ready to throw some punches. Put me behind a counter and it might as well be one of those dunking booths at the fair. They just start throwing balls at your face.

Somehow, in the middle of all that… the bitchiest woman I’ve EVER met came in to sell her dirty “shabby chic” sh** to me.

let’s go back, if you will… to our first encounter a few days ago:
M: me
B: bitc*

B: (awkwardly comes in and stands at the door holding a large framed picture with “chippy” paint to cover up the fact that it just might be old… I’m with a customer. She steps up to the counter…)”My friend frames various french art and I think you would like to buy them. They are $25.00 each.”
M: “does he do more than these?” I’m a bit intrigued, but something doesn’t feel right.
B: “Yes, but he’s in (some city far away from me) and doesn’t have a catalog”
M: “does he have pictures?”
B: “no”
M: “Ummm… how do I know what he has?”
B: “I’ll bring them to you and you buy them.” She said robotically and semi-annoyed.
M: “But, I don’t want to buy just one, we usually like to have groups of things. I plan out displays, I know what I need, and we usually like little groupings. And my partner would have to see them. If he had pictures…”
B: She totally cuts me off…”When is your partner in?”
M: “sometimes on saturdays, but I can’t be sure.”

She leaves… I think nothing more of it, I’m actually relieved. Someone who is trying to conduct business with boutique stores really should have a catalog… this notion of door-to-door “this is what I have, take it or leave it”, isn’t exactly charming or normal. Usually, there is some kind of introduction or at least the “I’m getting a divorce, do you want my wife’s lamps for $20?” I need a story. Hers wasn’t convincing me.

Today…

B: (crushing my flowers by putting the frames on our expensive flower pots while trying to open the door.) “Here are three pieces, is your partner here?” She says this as she is looking around, not making very much eye contact with me.
M: “Ummm… no… she isn’t”
B: “Well, here are 3 examples. You said you needed 3, do you want them? I can leave them here for you to show your partner.”
M: “They are pretty. I don’t feel comfortable leaving them here (Points to mess absolutely everywhere…) it’s a huge mess, I would hate to kick them or hurt them… but… again… is there any way he can get pictures or I can snap a picture?”
B: “He doesn’t have pictures and he rarely makes the same thing twice, so these could be sold if you decide you want them”
M: “How do I contact him if I want to buy them? What if I want certain colors? Does he sell them anywhere? I don’t know how to buy something I can’t see. Does he have a business card?”
B: “He doesn’t believe in marketing! You can tell me the colors and I can bring them to you.” She’s starting to get irritated and is getting louder, which is making me really nervous.
M: “Can I contact you later?” (I slide over a piece of paper and a pen)
B: “Well, you aren’t going to call me or talk to your partner, I don’t think I should give you my information” (slides paper back at me with force)
M: “excuse me?!? What?” Now shocked by her tone
B: “Honey, if you aren’t going to buy them now, you aren’t going to buy them and you have no intention of buying them.” She says in a totally condescending grandma vibe.
M: “Well, sweetie, you don’t know how to do business, do you? I can’t believe you are trying to sell things this way! Why are you even selling these things for this guy if he doesn’t have any contact information or any way to sell them? Polaroid, anything?!?” The game was getting old and boring by this point
B: “It works for everyone else!” She huffs
M: “Umm, well, it doesn’t work for me.”
B: No words… just a dirty glare as she stumbles out…
M: “Good luck!” I barked, a little snarky…
B: “Good luck to YOU, you are the only one who hasn’t bought one!”

Normally, an encounter such as this wouldn’t bother me so much. But she obviously hasn’t done business before and she seemed really desperate. I wonder if she had a prescription drug habit to support and she was pulling art off of her walls. I didn’t see her get in or out of a car, but she was lugging quite a few banged-up art pieces up and down the busy street. Usually when we get art dealers they are greasy men who wreak of cheap cologne and offer to have your babies*. The well-dressed woman was something completely new. The pieces weren’t terrible, but they were really common. The old french posters and restaurants etc. You see them everywhere… $25.00 was a tad high for the wholesale price of such a thing you can find at Cost Plus. IF I purchased one or two, it would have been out of pity, not because it was a great deal.

Ever have someone just rub you the wrong way? Disrespectful, completely un-friendly. She just got to me… in a way that I can’t describe.

After-the-fact sidenote regarding the restroom thing…
Cleaning the bathroom was something I loathed. People would do horribly messy anonymous things in there… I mean horrible. I am not equipped with a stomach that can handle biohazards. Strange colors, fecal matter in the trash can. You’d expect that in the gas station bathroom, but not the loo of a sweet little boutique. How disgusting my customers could be in the bathroom became an obsession… one which I will revisit often in my journal entries. I apologize in advance.

*Okay, I had blocked out this story but it popped into my head when I read “greasy men”.
Once, a guido-looking vendor came in selling a concentrated cleaner by the gallon. Why I got suckered in and bought a gallon is beyond me. Well, as he was putting my payment in his wallet, a condom fell out. He looked at it, looked at me, and made that face as if he was shuffling a toothpick in his mouth from one corner to the other with his tongue… you know, to show off his tongue skills. You know exactly the look I’m speaking of. And the hairs on the back of your neck just stood up, too. Doesn’t matter if you are male or female, this is the universal sign for “gross! no! eugh!”

Anywho, he picks it up… all flat and smooshed (because you know you are supposed to carry your prize-winning condom in your hot, skanky squished wallet) and shows me a picture of a little girl adjacent to the prophylactic isle. She has the same vacant stare as he does. “This is my daughter. I got her while in Hawaii selling this stuff door-to-door. I carry a rubber now because… you never know when you can be of service!”

It’s like he rode up on a white stallion! And ladies, he’s virile! He has proof!

Seriously… this isn’t the first time. I have more of these stories.

I love [my obnoxious, yet highly creative friend] but she just keeps bombarding me with ideas and things she wants to do and I frankly don’t have the energy. She just shows up at the store daily and stays for hours leaning against the counter taking up tons of real estate… head back, eyes closed, deep in thought, large tablet with scribbled plans nobody will ever make and loud. Did I mention loud. She’d get an important call about employment (yep, the unemployed hang out with me daily) and get on her 1997 cell phone head set and wander around the store, yelling buzzwords and giggling loudly. I guess they were deaf in 1997. I can’t get anything done. I suppose I could tell her I have work to do and kindly show her the door. But this one is volatile and frequently goes off on rants about how I’m not a good friend, not attentive enough etc etc. Letting her wander is frankly, all about less damage control today. And, if I piss her off enough, she’ll send in one of her co-conspirators to explain to me what being a good friend is. I’m not sure when I became her target. Need to find her someone else to torment.

While [obnoxious yet highly creative friend] was here, [evil evil consignor] comes in the door. Looking disheveled with wet hair… she looks worn out and angry. The scowl on her face tells me she’s obviously already pissed at me for not returning her email, but damn How would you respond to this irrational thinking?

“I’m here to pick up my stuff.” She announces with no emotion. Usually she is happy to see me, friendly, occasionally entertaining… but now that I have taken away what she wants, she hates me.

I sent an email stating we were downsizing consignment, please come pick up your things and then the return email went a little something like this… “My computer just crashed, then we had a rat infestation, my husband tells me he might leave me because I’m, get this, too bossy, my son just hit puberty, my daughter has been sick, we had to put our dog down, our roof fell off then YOU send me this email. I don’t need this from YOU, my life already sucks, thanks for making it worse. Why can’t you just hold onto my things because I really need the extra money. I think you should be running your business different. The reason you don’t have enough foot traffic is because your landscaping in the front doesn’t pop out enough. I know where you can get these 5 foot tall planters…” Blah blah blah, something about hating me and not wanting to speak to me again and that it’s all my fault she isn’t the Rachel Ray of eclectic yard decor. A ray of sunshine, she is. All this over 20-something bottles with wire and seashells hanging off of them. Wire. Dangles. Rust. Dirt. It’s part of the “charm”.

So, we have a few words, she takes her things with her and says something like “Well, maybe we’ll talk again someday, mmmaybe we won’t!” With an audible “humph!” and she pushes her way out the door. A very junior high “have a nice life” statement. She’ll be missed.

At least my friend noticed what a strange interaction it was. We had a moment of bonding as she realized that sometimes this cute little store could be an estrogen war zone. I sort of regret spilling those beans to her because it was a moment of weakness. I let my guard completely down and being the control freak that she is… she started using these bits of information against me over the course of a few weeks. She’s a crafty one… she figured out my buttons and weaknesses quickly.

She must be destroyed.

Dear demanding impatient eye-rolling customer with horrible attitude,

I realize that your child cannot sit still for 3 minutes and that you have to leave her in your vehicle with the engine running so she can have the air conditioning and DVD player for entertainment in said SUV. I also understand that you had to prop our front door open and stand at it to watch the car because it may roll down the hill and burst into flames…

But really, do you think you can stop barking orders from your post at the door? My other customers are looking at you funny and they may obtain bad habits from watching you. And, you are letting the air conditioning spill out.

I cannot bring you one item at a time and let you inspect it at the door, especially while our phones are ringing and other customers are asking me questions. I appreciate your business, so I wrapped everything up for you and brought it to your car with your credit card receipt to sign while you were now sitting in your vehicle (I apologize for the convenience)… you then asked about our return policy with a sour look on your face. Seems that one of the large items I spent 15 minutes getting down off the ceiling may not work in your daughter’s new pretty princess room. “You see, she likes blue and this item is periwinkle. We live far away and my husband won’t like it and I may have to get the other one so can you hold it for a week?”

I know that I am a moron and give terrible service but when I told you I couldn’t hold something for more than 2 days you got irritated with me. We aren’t walmart and I’m not in business to lend highly breakable things out for the weekend and have you return them at your leisure. Why is that hard to understand?

yours truly,
usually highly motivated customer service person who has reached her limit with YOU

So, it’s worse than we thought. Not only are they cutting back… they are filing. That doesn’t mean that they’ll fall of the face of the Earth, they could reorganize and put their pieces back into the game… but, let’s be realistic… if they have this much debt in this economy, we may not be seeing much of them in the coming years. They blame the acquisition of Lenox for their bankruptcy… well, ummmm… when is the last time you purchased a Lenox item?

Exactly.

I don’t find a lot of things in the Lenox catalog I can appreciate…although, this “Luau Tweety” – Tweety dons a grass skirt… with gold talons is super adorable! And a bargain for $58.50! It would make the perfect addition to my “things with gold beaks” collection!

Chapter 11 isn’t the end, Chapter 7 is. There are all sorts of facets of bankruptcy! And, Dept 56/Lenox is looking for a buyer. Okay, so there is a ray of hope.

I’m finding it tough to be optimistic when my favorite suppliers are filing for bankruptcy, closing showrooms, canceling lines, firing artists and letting our reps go. I’ll be sure to look for some good news. I guess the silver lining is… better deals for the retailers! This next gift show will probably be chock full of incentives, deals, great dating and lots of positive outlooks for the future! In other words, they’ll be serving lots and lots of booze!

And because this is fun… here are a few more faves:

“Grand Slam Sam” – The baseball pig with 24 karat golden cloven hooves. Is this considered a false idol? Ooooh no they didn’t…. “This little slugger is sure to be voted MVP… most valuable piglet. It’s obvious that Sam favors the cowhide baseball to football’s pigskin! In his multicolored baseball cap and matching sweater, Sam hits a fashion home run!” Who do you think writes this stuff and how many suicide attempts do you think they’ve had?
	Don’t you just love fantasy?? The fantasy that a cat would wear a hat with bells… is enough in itself. The cat-in-the-box is worth the $58.50 asking price alone. And, as always, it has 24 karat gold accents. Isn’t that delicious? Name just one person on your shopping list who would appreciate this… just one… we’ll wait.
“He’s got the ears, the tail, and… the trunk! He’s an egg-delivering pachyderm, all dressed up as the Easter bunny.” No words…

I walked in this morning and waiting for me was a letter from my former insurance agent… I canceled with him for the following reasons in order of occurrence:

1. In order to sign the lease, I was FORCED to sign with this jerk. My Landlord would not let me have the keys until this policy was written up. I’ve been overpaying by $500-$800 per year going on year 4… but I felt that I had to stay with this agent because my landlord said so.
2. I was late with the payments all the time which were $120. That’s with an $11 “monthly service charge”. I would use online payments to make things easier but somehow, they were always late. There weren’t any fees but once in a while (I think 2 times now), my policy would “lapse” because it was late and they would have to write up a new policy. I guess it was a pain for the agents, but they did it and didn’t tell me about it.
3. I received a refund check saying I was completely dropped from this insurance company, due to another late payment. In order to be re-instated, I would have to sign up all over again which would entail another 1 year commitment. I was month-to-month at this point, which made me want to shop around for insurance.
4. called around… got quotes as little as 1/3 of the price I was paying. I decided to go with a name that was familiar “insurance yyyy” and I am still saving a ton. So, now I’m making half the payment with twice the coverage (1 mill vs 500K liability and now I get twice the coverage on loss of product). (footnote, my lease claims I need 1,000,000 in coverage… jackass (landlord’s friend) only covered me for 500,000) AND because the annual insurance premium is less than 1/2 of the quote from the first agent, I was able to pay for the year up front. I did a happy dance.

Another thing I should mention, this guy’s business is a few door down from me

Here’s the letter I sent to my now FORMER ins. agent… I slipped it under his door after work:

My company…
my street address, city state and zip
(555)555-55555 phone ∙ (555)555-5555 fax

March 24, 2006

xxxxxx Insurance

Attn: big mr. insurance guy
his address
city, state zip
(555) 555-5555 phone
(555) 555-5555 fax

RE: my policy and account #

big mr. insurance guy,

Due to the closure of our account with xxxxxx Insurance, we decided to get quotes from a few other insurance companies. Other new insurance yyyy has a great rate that we can pay in 2 semi-annual payments. By only having two payments we feel more confident that these payments would be on time avoiding the cancellation of our account and the reminders and paperwork associated.

Be advised that effective immediately we’ve been instructed to ask you to send new insurance guy, our new account representative at yyyy insurance, a three-year loss experience record for the above Business Policy. Assembly Bill (AB1180) which became law effective January 1, 2002 requires insurance carriers upon request from the insured (or agent of record where authorized by the insured) to provide a premium and loss history report within 10 business days.

Please provide this information directly to:

New shiney insurance agent
his address
city, state. zip
You may FAX the information to him at: 555-555-5555 or email to: new insurance
guy@xxxinsurance.com

Thank you for all your help,

me!

To which he replied:

you,

Further to your letter dated march 24, 2006 and dropped in my office on march 29 2006, I will order the request loss runs in due time.

For your information, I’m very well aware of the governing laws regarding AB1190. I deal with this issue on a daily basis and certainly do not need a reminder especially from a person who is late in her premium payments most of the time. Furthermore, unlike some desperate insurance agents/brokers, I do not use AB1180 as a selling tool to gain new accounts. Just like everyone else, you are entitled to choose your insurance carrier and account representative.

As far as I am concerned, I have dealt with you in a matter that a professional agent should, I would have preferred if you had done the same.

Sincerely, dick von dickenburg
agent, ins xxxx group of companies.

So, I go into his office, waving the letter and here’s how it went:

me: me
ass: him

me: “was this letter really necessary?”

ass: “well you choose to insult me by sending me that letter with a law that I am very aware of. This is my job and I’ve done it (whatever) number of years. That was very insulting of you to do that!”

me: “I wasn’t aware that it was insulting to you! I wrote that letter with a paragraph the new insurance company asked me to cut and paste into it. If I really wanted to insult you I would have come up with something better than that! I had no idea that was an insult!”

ass: “well if you would have just come down and said dick von dickhead I need this, I would have printed it out for you right away! (something about how they conned me into signing…)”

me: “well, where I come from we do everything on paper so I wasn’t sure if that was the way to handle it. I’m getting twice the coverage for half the price and I thought re-instating my policy for the third time would be a pain for you guys… I thought I would be doing you a favor (I know, that was passive aggressive)”

ass: something about people come and go but he would appreciate it if I would have come and talked to him about it… but he’s turning red now

keep in mind this whole time he won’t make eye contact with me, his sister is sitting behind me 5 feet away and she has said nothing. I don’t remember the entire conversation because I came back and wanted to cry and I’m still shaking. He’s been sweet as pie (and I’ve been friendly with his sister, wife and kids) up until this point and you know what, I feel LUCKY that I got out when I did because what if something happened with a claim and I had to work with him?!?! eeeek!

So, long story short I’ve got a running list of people who dislike me in this building:

Shop spaces, from left to right…
1. they like me, I’m a customer of theirs…
2. he thinks I’m a slacker, he defends his turf/parking and will come yell at me any time he thinks my customers are in his way. He was once quoted as saying “Oh, I thought you might be an art student… just look at that piece of crap you drive”
3. they have no problems with me… sweet as can be
4. old insurance agents, they will no longer speak to me
5. they… well… take in my boxes if I’m late or not here and when I go to pick them up I get a lecture on being tardy (and past concerns on going out of business because they never see people in here) … I said something nasty under my breath and I’m sure they think I’m a spoiled brat.
6. that’s me!
7. me, too!
8. she’s in-cahoots with the insurance people. they aren’t related but they are in the same business and they conveniently have the largest network cable and some other cable running from her shop to their shop and it bows right in front of 2 of my windows in the back creating a lovely eyesore… especially in the back of the building near the parking.
9. love them
10-11. don’t really talk to them, but they are super nice minus their bad parking habits.
okay, so 4 out of 11 ain’t bad for the building I suppose…

And commence happy attitude… now…

the sister/partner of the old ins. agent usually strolls by and waves at me… she just ran by with her arms clutched to visit the ugly cable lady.

So, my chances of eviction at the end of our lease is now 30% greater! I COULD take them all to court but I don’t have a leg to stand on.

I’m asking you, dear reader, to send nasty, festering thoughts towards them… a simple cold and flu, loss of business, relocation would be AWESOME. But most of all… I don’t want to get screwed at the end of this because I did the right thing. Did I do the right thing?