I’m not sure if this is my fault, but here goes. My COSTCO card started to peel up from the plastic. I waited a while, because I could still get gas, but 2 weeks ago it gave up the ghost and the attendant says, “Sorry buddy. You gotta go inside & get a new card.”
Which is actually incorrect, because once I parked, walked inside, and waited through the returns/customer service line (yeah, that pissed me off too. One line? Bastards!), the best they could do is give me a phone number to a bank that handles their credit cards.
I go home, paying cash for gas somewhere else, and call to get a replacement card.
“Oh, Mr. Blucher? That’ll be 2 to 15 days.” Prodding her for an e.t.a. was no good; explaining that I use it for gas was no good. It was “2-15 days”, end of story.
So, a week goes by…and I’m paying cash…I even get bitched at by paying with a c-note. “C’mon, Mack, you trying to take all my change?” “Hey, it’s a $45 purchase…what’s your problem?” Dammit…I’m missing my COSTCO card.
So, Monday night I get home, and Frau Blucher whinny says “Dear, your new COSTCO card came today.” Thank the Lord! I think I ripped into that envelope like Ralphie looking for an Ovaltine Decoder Ring. Carefully…lovingly…I pull the crisp plastic card from the glob of rubber goo holding it to its cardboard backing. (Hell, I was so excited, I wanted to go out and buy Gas!)
I pulled out the old ratty-card from the spot on the kitchen table where I had put it the other day and placed it next to the new card…the account number matched, but one was so clean, so crisp, so…New! I flipped them both over to compare the backs with glee, when there…like half a worm in an apple…was the problem.
The card said “Frau Blucher”.
Grabbing the cardboard insert, I quickly dialed the ‘lost or stolen’ 800 number, hoping that someone there could help me get back my excitement or my dignity. A young girl named ‘Sally’ answered. Well, she confirmed my social…and then put me back on hold. Then she answered.
“Why Yes, Mr. Blucher, we send you your card. Did you get it?” Trying not to take what she said like a 2x4 between the eyes, I said yes…and it was right in front of me. But there’s a problem.
“Oh? What kind of problem?” she asked with the sincerity and cheeriness of a student who Really needs the money.
“Well, you see, it has my wife’s name on it…and I’m afraid that when I go to COSCTO to get my picture put on it, waiting another hour behind inoperative camcorders, defective toasters, and Snickers bars that ‘just don’t taste Fresh’, that the man behind the counter just Might not believe I’m Frau Blucher. In fact, he might think I’m an Identity Thief, and have me arrested.”
You know, a lot of people use the phrase ‘lol’ or ‘rofl’…but it’s semi-unique to have someone burst out laughing during a business call. It’s a little off-putting, when you realize that they are promoting Customer Service, but that they are laughing At You.
“I realize that this might sound funny Sally, and maybe I’d be laughing at it too. But, you see, I Really need to use my COSTCO card. Badly.”
Well, she stopped laughing (which is always a plus). I then asked her when I could have a card with my name on it.
“Oh, that’d be 2 to 15 days.”
Somewhere in my skull, a synapse fired. It wasn’t a kind or nice synapse; it was a truly unpleasant one…one that possibly proves we evolved from cave-dwelling, knuckle-dragging beasts…one so anti-social, that prolonged use would no doubt lead to prove Hobbes right about life being ‘Nasty, Brutish, and Short’.
I replied, “Sally, I need that card Fed-Ex’d.”
“But Mr. Blucher, I don’t have the facilities to…”
“Express mail then.” I rudely interrupted.
“But, Mr. Blucher, I’m not authorized…”
“DHL works for me too.”
Clearly distraught, she placed me on hold.
{Now, in my own defense, I don’t normally act like this. I’m not rude. I don’t tear off insect wings. And very rarely do I go to confession booth and reply to the priest, “Oh Yeah…!? Lets see try and Make me!!!” Yes, I majored in Do the Right Thing and double minored in Guilt and Regret. But I digress…}
About a minute later, Sally came back and promised me my card would be here on Friday, and that she was sorry for the mistake. I reassured her that I knew that she didn’t make the mistake and that I really appreciated her getting the card to me faster than 15 days.
Well, it’s Friday…and I need gas again (darn it). I’m just hoping somewhere in my mailbox, there’s a COSTCO card with my name on it…