Online Transactions

I've been a big fan of the online financial transactions. Until today. I did a quick check of our accounts and noted that for some reason, our last credit card payment, which incidentally had paid off the account, had been "reversed" a.k.a. "returned".

I called the credit card company, explained the situation, mentioned that I had just signed up for the payment service, perhaps there was a problem there. They, said "no", and told me that I had to call my bank. (One and the same company by the way.) But first, he tried to sell me account "insurance". Yeah, something just went wrong with a transaction and you want me to BUY something from you idiots.

I called the bank number and explained the situation. They told me I had to speak to an online account specialist and I was transferred once again. Umm, if you have to speak to a different department regarding online transactions, why do they post the standard number on the webpage? The woman I finally got there told me there was nothing wrong with our account (i.e., plenty of cash) and she had no record of the transaction at all. She then said I needed to speak to the credit card company--back to the very beginning--however, she was able to transfer me directly to "collections".

After 10 minutes on hold, I got another guy who asked if I'd spoken to my bank. I think I deserve massive credit for not screaming obscenities into the phone at this point. He pulled up the transaction histories and asked me to confirm the account number from which the cash was to be drawn. I had dropped a digit in the middle of the account number when I entered it. It took all of 15 seconds for him to discover and fix the problem after I'd spoken with 4 separate people over the course of 30 minutes.

Thank God I wasn't making a last minute payment for which I would have been charged for missing it.

It's the big one!

I've decided several of the principals at this firm must fear earthquakes. It's the only reason I can think of that they INSIST on standing in the doorways of high traffic public areas.

When you got it...flaunt it!

Jen came to Greg's show on Friday night wearing a really low cut top. It's too bad that she didn't understand the power she possessed and then, after far too short a time, gave away...

When we went down to the piano bar after the show, the 60-ish woman with Mike Ditka's haircut tending bar gave us the happy hour discount while pointedly asking who we were--it was reminiscent of the good ol' days at the Racc on the upper east side. Alas, silly Jennifer didn't realize how very abruptly happy hour would end when she announced that I was Greg's fiancee.

Well, at least the younger boy in Greg's show remained attentive--but a 24-year old actor isn't in any position to be buying the drinks.

Whappo!!!

At the farmer's market on Saturday, I ripped a new one in a political flunky for a democratic mayoral candidate. This guy, and his entourage of 8, was working the farmer's market. It was like watching the Red Sea part as people stopped shopping at the stands and ran away from him. I couldn't get near the candidate, but I did yell quite loudly at the campaign guy on his disregard for working people trying to make a living. His response: 1)I was accused of "not understanding how politics work" 2) I was accused of being a Republican.

The summary of my shopping trip:

Eggs: $3
Peaches: $4
The look on the guy's face when I said I hate the current administration and am a registered democrat, but I wouldn't vote for anyone who was showing himself to be just like the president in his lack of understanding of what it takes to make a living: Priceless.

Just wacky!

There is no law against first cousins marrying each other in New York State. All familial prohibitions are based on the ancestor/descendent and sibling relationships:

"A marriage may not take place in New York State between an ancestor and descendant (that is, a parent, grandparent, etc. and an offspring (child)), a brother and sister (full or half blood), an uncle and niece or an aunt and nephew, regardless of whether or not these persons are legitimate or illegitimate offspring. There is no legal bar against marriage between cousins."

This may explain a lot...

Passing Judgement

This morning I realized that I should write out the makeup instructions for Olga and Rustini, 'cause there's no guarantee I'll get to the cabaret tonight in time to do all three of them. I also packed up the recycling and said goodbye to my fiance (he has the day off). Thus, I left the apartment at 10:30.

I dropped the recycling in the basement, walked up to leave and Mr. Henry, our grandfatherly Jamaican doorman was at his post. He looked at me sternly and said reprimandingly, "You slept late dis mornin', didn't you?" "Well, no. I had a lot of chores to take care of in the apartment." "Okay den. You have a package." There was the definite implication that I wouldn't have been given my package had I slept in.

He does not approve of laziness and you can hear his scorn whenever he announces that we have a grocery delivery. Luckily for us, I get up very early on Saturday mornings to go to the farmer's market--it counters the occasional delivery.

You don't mess with Mr. Henry. (Yes, Henry is his surname.) He's very old school--he takes his job very seriously and you'd better treat him and what he does with respect. If you do, he's absolutely great. If one is snobby or too familiar...he can and will make one's life difficult. I've heard prospective tenants ranting in the elevator about how it took 5 minutes to get the keys to see an apartment. My immediate thought was: "If Henry doesn't want you living here neither do we."

We love Henry. Greg's giving him the engagement news today. He'll be just as pleased as my mom and Greg's grandmother.

And they say romance is dead...

So Monday night, due to some workplace angst, I was feelin' the need for some cheesy comfort food while Greg was at rehearsal. The only deep dish place doesn't deliver, so I went for the cheesy spinach artichoke dip and a salad from a southern place. Perhaps a bit too cheesy. Half the dip and 1/4 of the salad later I was in a world of hurt. By the time Greg got home at 10, I was out of the bathroom, but at the computer concentrating intently on a game of freecell 'cause it distracted from the stomach cramps while still being in immediate proximity of the loo. He was so informed.

I got the "Poor Schnoodle..." head stroke and then..."so would it make you feel a little less adrift if we were to get married?" Probing look. "Um, I'm good with the married, I just don't think feeling insecure is the reason to do it." "Well, of course that's NOT the reason, and I will ask again in a more traditional way, but I was thinking we should probably do it this year anyway..." We grinned, made a face and I went back to concentrating on ignoring the cramps.

Tuesday night we went to our regular pub for dinner, and over our cheddar burgers we talked some more and he officially proposed. No, no bended knee, no flowers, there was candlelight, but then the place is so dark you need the candles to read the menu.

My brother was appalled by the lack of romantic gesture...but really, the fact that he wanted to ask me to marry him even when I was in intestinal distress is better than flowers any day.