Already whined/wept on stonebender...

[serene]

Both someotherguy and I managed to leave the house without our keys. We didn't know this, so we walked happily and peacefully to the coffeeshop for a bite to eat, after which we planned to go home and work work work, because we each have projects we need to do, and a house to clean before the munchkin arrives.

So we get home and we have no keys. We go back to the coffeeshop to see if they're there. (1.5 miles roundtrip, times two, so that's three miles on my injured foot -- not fun) Then we go to the *other* coffeeshop to get on the internet and look up a locksmith, because the woman who owns our house is not answering her phone. (1 mile or so roundtrip). Now it's getting really cold outside, and someotherguy is only wearing a t-shirt. Anyway, I call the locksmith from a payphone, and the woman who answers says that they need a phone number, and I say My phone is in my house and I can't get to it, and she says Well, give me the phone number of a relative or something, and I say Okay, here's stonebender's number. He's my boyfriend. How much will it be? And she says $55 service charge. And I say is that the total? And she says No, that's the service charge. If he has to do anything complicated, it will be more.

So, see, here's the deal: If they call that number you give them and someone doesn't say, Yes, Cindy (the name they gave stonebender) is indeed my girlfriend and she needs you to open her house, they Just. Don't. Show. Up. Poor stonebender, he feels so bad, but it's so not his fault. I'm so angry at those people, I could spit.

So here we are waiting outside in the bitter cold for someone who's not gonna show up. Our neighbor gives us a blanket and offers to do anything we need. We could have stayed at her place waiting, but her place is behind ours and we wouldn't see the locksmith guy, so we wait, sharing the blanket, which is not enough. So someotherguy decides to walk and call and figure out what's up, and they tell him they called stonebender and he didn't answer, and so they didn't come. So someotherguy finally gets someone to see if giving them our credit-card number will get them out here, and after a while, they consent.

An hour and a half or so later, my teeth chattering, I see the guy arrive. He gets to my door and says "Do you understand the charges?" and I say "She told me $55."

He says No, that's just the service charge. If I have to pick the lock, it's $35 more, and if I have to drill it, it's another $35.

So tell, me, if you were the customer-service woman at the beginning, do you think you might have: (a) Let me know that I should make sure that the person whose number I gave should know they were calling and give the secret password, and (b) let me know that "anything complicated" includes *anything at all* that he has to do to open my fucking door? Yeah, that's what I thought.

Anyway, I am finally in my house, after seven hours out in the cold, and I am beginning to warm up. Not my favorite day ever. End of whine.



someotherguy, by the way, is the perfect person for me to be with in a crisis. He doesn't freak out or yell. He is sweet and takes care of me. And he lets me take care of him a little, too.