Welcome to One Busy Momma! The Blog for Busy Moms by one Busy Mom.....

Welcome to my blog. One Busy Momma is my space to rant about my life and the things that happen in it. I have a crazy life - and instead of focusing on the crazy - I like to focus on the funny. Because if I focused on the craziness - well, I'd have been shipped off to an institution long, long ago. And while, I'll admit, there are some days when being institutionalized sounds PRETTY GOOD compared to making ANOTHER diorama at 1am - I'd rather be right where I am - in my messy house with my not so perfect kids making crooked dioramas in the middle of the night.

Thursday, July 25, 2013

An Open Letter to the Guy at the Apple Genius Bar

Hey Peeps! How goes it? I'm going to cut right to the chase tonight - Busy Momma is frustrated! I am experiencing iProblems...as in iPhone troubles. My phone, which I also use as my iPod is acting all cray-cray. SO cray-cray, in fact, that I drove all the way to the Apple Store today to visit something called the "Genius Bar". Understand - while I am not the technical genius..and by "genius" I mean "geek"... that PC is - I am not exactly a technophobe. I have a laptop, not one, but 2 iPads, 2 Facebook accounts, an Instagram account, 2 email accounts, a Twitter account, A BLOG for goodness sakes.....enough said. I know how to use me some technology! However, I have never had a problem with any of my Apple products, therefore, I have never had to visit the "Genius" bar at an Apple store. The closest Apple store is about 40 minutes away, and those of you who know me know my mantra:" Ain't NOBODY got time for THAT". So, I generally try to take care of any Apple issues on my own. And by "on my own" I mean I throw the device at PC and he fixes it. So, you can imagine my horror, when my husband looked at me and said: "Yeah - that phone is all kinds of effed up. You need a new one."

I CAN'T just "get a new one"! First of all - this is my work phone. Hence, I don't own it - they do. And trying to get a new phone when you are not eligible for an upgrade is just an impossible situation. I'd have better luck having my company buy me a new kidney or a baby on the black market than a new phone! No, no, no - this just won't do. PC saying "I can't figure it out" is akin to him speaking to me in some kind of geeky alien language. It just doesn't compute! SO, I called my tech support and they told me to head into an Apple store and have a "technician" look at it. So, I put on my big girl panties, drove to the mall in Towson and visited the "Genius Bar". (I also visited the Sephora store and picked up a mascara called "Better than Sex" by Too Faced...but I digress.) What happened there is detailed in the following open letter to the guy that "helped" me today.

Dear Guy Who Helped Me at the Genius Bar Today:

I am writing to thank you for talking to me about my phone this afternoon. Do you remember me? I am the lady who came in and said: "Hi, um can you help me with my phone? My husband says it's all kinds of effed up. And that's a direct quote." No? Hmmm - ok, here's another way you might remember me - I was the one of the only women in the store without a facial piercing or tatoo .Remember me now? No, no - not Marion, the old lady who walked up to you and told you that she "really didn't like her apples". Remember her? She was about 85 years old. That wasn't me. I was the one who turned bright red and started sweating profusely as we spoke. I was having a hot flash and said - "Oh, don't mind the sweating. I'm experiencing my own personal summer.". The horrified look on your face told me that you wouldn't soon forget THAT, so I know that you now remember me! 

 Your response of "Are you here to check-in?" did kind of confuse me. My extremely clever come back: "I am not staying the night - I just need someone to take a peek at my phone" didn't amuse you Sorry, but you see, I didn't realize that one needed an actual appointment to confirm that her phone was indeed: "all kinds of effed up". I will admit that I was a bit "rage-y" when you explained that the next available appointment was in 90-minutes.  But, again, I was mid-hot flash and craving chocolate. So, my exclamation of: "WHAAAAAT???" was a bit shrieky, as you said, but you didn't really need to point that out. Haven't you ever heard the phrase: "The Customer is ALWAYS Right"? Well, if not, I'm here to introduce you to that little gem of customer service wisdom. 

I still insist that things between us could have remained  neutral and somewhat professional and friendly had you not stopped helping me as I was explaining that my speaker is not working on my phone and all of my fun ringtones cannot be heard. In NORMAL retail establishments, there is an unwritten code of conduct. And that code CLEARLY states that a sales person remains with the customer he is working with until their issue is resolved. I was not aware that in the APPLE store, male sales guys only have to stay with a 40-something, peri-menopausal, non-tatooed, woman with nary a facial piercing just until a 20-something hipster in a $95.00 tank top walks past with both arms tatted up from wrist to armpit, multiple facial piercings, NO BOOBS and ironic glasses that ladies of a certain generation would never be caught DEAD in walks past. Apparently, when THAT happens in an Apple store - all bets are off. Now, I do understand that a young man has certain needs and urges that need to be satisfied. I was young once. But here is the thing, I sincerely believe that if you actually showered with soap and water instead of Axe body spray, you might have had a better shot with her. AND my response of : "OUCH...well - that must have burned, huh?" was pretty funny when you think about it now - wasn't it? You didn't need to get all snarky and start talking to me VERY SLOWLY, as if to imply that I am somehow mentally impaired. Yes, I did have only one of my eyes made up. But NOT because, as you cleverly inquired, because I FORGOT to do the other one. I stopped off to buy mascara on my way to the Apple store you nimrod. And they did a before and after thingy with the "Better than Sex" mascara that I wanted to try out. Duh. 

I never would have started shouting at you had you not made the crack about my Abercrombie and Fitch bag to your geeky coworker as I was walking away. I mean, I was CLEARLY still within earshot. I am a mother of a tweenager- I hear EVERYTHING you little geeky weasel. ESPECIALLY snarky things that are said under your breath as I turn to walk away. For someone who wears a name tag that identifies him as a "genius" you are none to smart. And to answer your inquiry - YES, Abercrombie does, indeed, carry items of clothing that I can fit into. They sell flip flops and socks,  you dumb ass. Maybe if you weren't working so very hard on expanding those ridiculous holes in your ears, you might have been able to learn some manners and business acumen. I wasn't aware that constantly having to change your earrings so that your earlobes become gaping holes of nothingness that mirror the black hole where your brain is supposed to reside takes so very much cognitive energy.  Telling me that you can't even TOUCH my phone until I back it up on the iCloud AFTER I EXPLICITLY tell you that I am unable to do just that because the god damned phone won't connect to WiFi would have made any reasonable, intelligent, hot-flash experiencing woman go ape-shit all over your scrawny, grey-white ass. (Get outside and get some sun you little mole - haven't you ever heard of rickets?)

Anyway - I sincerely hope that you do recover from our little spat today. I don't think EVERYONE saw you crying. I mean it is a very big mall. In any case, I hope you learned a few things:. 

First and foremost - the customer is ALWAYS ALWAYS right. Even when they are clearly wrong. Duh. 

Next - do not ever - and I mean EVER screw with a woman having a hot flash. The results could very well be devastating for both of you. 

Next - Axe body spray does not hide that level of body odor. It just covers it up so that people smell your stink AND realize that you are indeed too lazy to shower. 

And finally - "old bitches" can run like the freaking wind because we all train for 5Ks or half marathons to deny, I mean celebrate the fact that we are getting older. SO by the time your little mall cop arrives, we can be across the street, sipping a Starbucks at Athleta buying ourselves overpriced mom tankinis that make us look appropriately hip for our age while stylishly hiding our spider veins and thunder thighs. 

Who's the bitch now, bitch?

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