I’m on the phone right now. With a customer service person. I’m sure she’s a perfectly lovely person (somewhere in the midwest, based on her accent, not that that matters).
After spending so much time home, while sick, I got really sick and tired of looking around at my crappy apartment. So as soon as I started to feel well enough I started to get really serious about decorating the place. Finally. And with that came a lot of returns. Because, for whatever reason, a good percentage of everything I ordered came damaged (or didn’t come at all).
Anyway, all that shopping and returning means lots of calls to customer service. I’m old school like that. I like to call and deal with these things. And over and over, I keep getting called Mrs.
It’s 2012 people. 2012. Why would anyone default assume that the female adult customer on the other end of the phone line is married? Sheesh. End of rant.No tags for this post.