Do you blog about getting poor customer service? Before doing so, do you make sure that you have done your part to ensure a good, effective purchasing experience? Do you read the terms and conditions of usage?
The hard part about my job is the customers, hands down. As a business we do make mistakes, and sometimes the system doesn't make things work fluidly. We realize this and we do what we can to make up for it (and correct the error). But that is, by far, the minority of experiences.
People who cannot be satisfied should either do things themselves, or stick with the businesses that they are used to using. They should by no means "give it a try" if following their explicit instructions will not provide (at the least) satisfactory results.
Just so you know.
Friday, July 20, 2007
Friday, July 06, 2007
LAS VEGAS: Confidential: the back room
My nerves overpowered me again. I had no idea what to expect, aside from what I had seen in movies or tv. My friend held me by the hand and said, "You sure you wanna do this?" If there's one thing that I've been called in my life it's a daredevil, and this certainly wasn't going to change that. "Yeah I'm sure," I replied, unsure.
The first thing that I noticed was a wall with several head-shots of girls. They were autographed in stylized letters, making it seem like I was encountering celebrities in this dark, musty place. Another thing of note was a white board that said "Now on Stage:", with the name of a girl who's face you could find on the picture wall.
Overhead, the dim red lights barely lit the walkways. I felt like I was on the set of one of those movies! We wanted to view a live dancer, but the room big enough for two was taken. So we chose to go even smuttier, and went to view the Porn Arcade. There was only a curtain to shield us in our little booth. In a take-me-serious tone of voice, my friend told me, "Don't look down..." I was impressed with myself at how quickly I pieced the meaning together, and decided at once that I needed to look down. Ew. And the walls. Ew. And the sides of the television. Oh my ew. "What? You didn't believe me?" my friend laughed.
The vast choices of porn to watch was impressive. Any kind you want, they had available. Just put in a dollar and you get 5 minutes of view time. We weren't there very long when I remembered that this is not why we were there. I wanted to see a live stripper. So we squeezed ourselves out of the little booth and went to the room big enough for two. It appeared closed, but when we got closer we realized that it was open just a bit. A chair was placed in the room, and it was facing a big black rectangle. My friend showed me how to put in a dollar, then suddenly the black rectangle was gone, a window had appeared, and I was facing a stage.
It was a bright transition for my eyes. I got closer to the window and saw a white girl with straight brown hair maneuvering her way around a semi-circle stage, stopping in front of other windows like ours. The girl seemed somewhat bored and ready to be done, but I remember the twinkle in her eyes as she looked in my direction. She gave me a playful grin. It was pretty clear that she liked it when girls came to watch her. And she knew that I liked watching girls. She didn't waste time coming over to our window. My friend gave her dollars and she gave us more of a show. She bent over so we could see everything she had. She moved gracefully, and her long hair dragged on the stage as she varied her positions for us.
Behind our dancer I could see another girl come up a set of stairs, drop her purse off to the side, and our dancer left us to chat with her for a moment. This new girl was black, and she was wearing a hot pink tightly-fitted dress. She was gorgeous. Her ass was rounded and voluptuous. Her waist was tiny and she had natural but well-proportioned breasts. Almost immediately after a short session of pole-dancing, she saw me looking at her lustfully through the window. Her smiled glowed! My heart actually skipped because she was so beautiful, and she was excited to see me!
I watched as she slowly slipped her dress down around her breasts. She watched me watching her. She sat in front of our window and put her legs on either side of the window. I got the full view of this beauty, and my friend kept giving her dollars as tips. Already my mind was wondering if I could get a private showing with her. I was disappointed to learn that even if I did get a private showing, I wouldn't be able to touch her. That was part of the fun! I wanted to feel her full ass in my hand, and pull her close.
I think she became disappointed that I wasn't giving my friend a hand job right there in front of her. I was too enthralled with her to think about him by that point. But her time at our window was over, and she moved on to other fresh patrons. We left our room big enough for two reluctantly.
My pulse was still racing and I wanted more. I forgot why I had been nervous or scared. I had become a full supporter of stripping. I'll have to write about the other strip club we attended that night.
The first thing that I noticed was a wall with several head-shots of girls. They were autographed in stylized letters, making it seem like I was encountering celebrities in this dark, musty place. Another thing of note was a white board that said "Now on Stage:", with the name of a girl who's face you could find on the picture wall.
Overhead, the dim red lights barely lit the walkways. I felt like I was on the set of one of those movies! We wanted to view a live dancer, but the room big enough for two was taken. So we chose to go even smuttier, and went to view the Porn Arcade. There was only a curtain to shield us in our little booth. In a take-me-serious tone of voice, my friend told me, "Don't look down..." I was impressed with myself at how quickly I pieced the meaning together, and decided at once that I needed to look down. Ew. And the walls. Ew. And the sides of the television. Oh my ew. "What? You didn't believe me?" my friend laughed.
The vast choices of porn to watch was impressive. Any kind you want, they had available. Just put in a dollar and you get 5 minutes of view time. We weren't there very long when I remembered that this is not why we were there. I wanted to see a live stripper. So we squeezed ourselves out of the little booth and went to the room big enough for two. It appeared closed, but when we got closer we realized that it was open just a bit. A chair was placed in the room, and it was facing a big black rectangle. My friend showed me how to put in a dollar, then suddenly the black rectangle was gone, a window had appeared, and I was facing a stage.
It was a bright transition for my eyes. I got closer to the window and saw a white girl with straight brown hair maneuvering her way around a semi-circle stage, stopping in front of other windows like ours. The girl seemed somewhat bored and ready to be done, but I remember the twinkle in her eyes as she looked in my direction. She gave me a playful grin. It was pretty clear that she liked it when girls came to watch her. And she knew that I liked watching girls. She didn't waste time coming over to our window. My friend gave her dollars and she gave us more of a show. She bent over so we could see everything she had. She moved gracefully, and her long hair dragged on the stage as she varied her positions for us.
Behind our dancer I could see another girl come up a set of stairs, drop her purse off to the side, and our dancer left us to chat with her for a moment. This new girl was black, and she was wearing a hot pink tightly-fitted dress. She was gorgeous. Her ass was rounded and voluptuous. Her waist was tiny and she had natural but well-proportioned breasts. Almost immediately after a short session of pole-dancing, she saw me looking at her lustfully through the window. Her smiled glowed! My heart actually skipped because she was so beautiful, and she was excited to see me!
I watched as she slowly slipped her dress down around her breasts. She watched me watching her. She sat in front of our window and put her legs on either side of the window. I got the full view of this beauty, and my friend kept giving her dollars as tips. Already my mind was wondering if I could get a private showing with her. I was disappointed to learn that even if I did get a private showing, I wouldn't be able to touch her. That was part of the fun! I wanted to feel her full ass in my hand, and pull her close.
I think she became disappointed that I wasn't giving my friend a hand job right there in front of her. I was too enthralled with her to think about him by that point. But her time at our window was over, and she moved on to other fresh patrons. We left our room big enough for two reluctantly.
My pulse was still racing and I wanted more. I forgot why I had been nervous or scared. I had become a full supporter of stripping. I'll have to write about the other strip club we attended that night.
Wednesday, July 04, 2007
LAS VEGAS: Confidential
I stepped out of the van without thought, but the second my foot hit the pavement the butterflies in my stomach screamed, "Look alive!" and they began their frenzied dance. I looked to my left, to my right, and a car whizzed passed on the street next to us. I felt my cheeks flush in an unconscious wave of shame. "What am I doing here? This is so bad," I told myself with every footstep toward the building.
The door was bright yellow against a large, square, dark building. It was propped open, and as we approached I felt like I was stepping into the Twilight Zone. I just knew I was going to be sucked into another dimension. I made a very brave step through the threshold and suddenly I realized that no, it wasn't "bad", and that I was not doing anything wrong. "I'm an adult, I have lots of experience, my kids are safe and sound, and I may as well enjoy myself," I thought. So it was at that point that I opened my eyes.
The interior was bright, like a hospital bright. No, more like a warehouse bright. Maybe a combination of the two, actually. The walls were tall, and there was sparse decor. I knew at once that this was no Blue Boutique. My first comment spoken aloud to my friend was, "They're not messing around here, are they?"
And then it hit me: for the first time I was in a REAL porn shop. There was no lingerie, no romantic sex games. I didn't see "coupon" books or stripper shoes. This, I realized, was a testosterone saturated covert for men. I, in my skimpy little skirt, was in a strange new territory.
One and a half walls, in addition to at least two rows of shelves, were dedicated to toys. I think I saw The Biggest Dildo EVER. I swear it was about two feet long and had a circumference greater than my two hands together. All I could do was stare in amazement (while imagining the pain) and spew an occasional chuckle.
There were stacks of older VHS pornos, which I guess they were trying to liquidate because they were all priced $2.00. Yes, TWO DOLLARS. Granted, they were all kind of corny and outdated, but porn is porn. If that didn't tickle my fancy then there were thousands of other titles I could choose from. It carried as many DVD's as a Blockbuster, probably. I was continually stunned at the sheer smut and blatant casualness of the whole thing. The other patrons may as well have been shopping at K-mart, for all I knew.
Next I am going to write about the Back Room. Stay tuned.
The door was bright yellow against a large, square, dark building. It was propped open, and as we approached I felt like I was stepping into the Twilight Zone. I just knew I was going to be sucked into another dimension. I made a very brave step through the threshold and suddenly I realized that no, it wasn't "bad", and that I was not doing anything wrong. "I'm an adult, I have lots of experience, my kids are safe and sound, and I may as well enjoy myself," I thought. So it was at that point that I opened my eyes.
The interior was bright, like a hospital bright. No, more like a warehouse bright. Maybe a combination of the two, actually. The walls were tall, and there was sparse decor. I knew at once that this was no Blue Boutique. My first comment spoken aloud to my friend was, "They're not messing around here, are they?"
And then it hit me: for the first time I was in a REAL porn shop. There was no lingerie, no romantic sex games. I didn't see "coupon" books or stripper shoes. This, I realized, was a testosterone saturated covert for men. I, in my skimpy little skirt, was in a strange new territory.
One and a half walls, in addition to at least two rows of shelves, were dedicated to toys. I think I saw The Biggest Dildo EVER. I swear it was about two feet long and had a circumference greater than my two hands together. All I could do was stare in amazement (while imagining the pain) and spew an occasional chuckle.
There were stacks of older VHS pornos, which I guess they were trying to liquidate because they were all priced $2.00. Yes, TWO DOLLARS. Granted, they were all kind of corny and outdated, but porn is porn. If that didn't tickle my fancy then there were thousands of other titles I could choose from. It carried as many DVD's as a Blockbuster, probably. I was continually stunned at the sheer smut and blatant casualness of the whole thing. The other patrons may as well have been shopping at K-mart, for all I knew.
Next I am going to write about the Back Room. Stay tuned.
Happy Birthday, big paper with lots of signatures on it!
Anytime a national holiday comes around, I sign up to work. Why not work a few hours and get paid crap-loads of money to do so? I still get to go to the family BBQ, and see the [illegal] fireworks tonight. I'm not missing out on anything. So I work.
Thing is, NOTHING is going on at work. We need to keep our phones open because we have international customers. I've been logged on to my computer for about 20 minutes now, and I've done everything I can do to catch up. No tasks, emails all taken care of, no voicemails, all done. So I blog.
I am enjoying the view from my window, however, and I'm seeing the sun peak over the tall mountains that border the eastern side of Utah Valley. From where I sit (we're in Lindon) I can see lush green pastures, tall weeping willows and poplars, and the sun making all the green leaves sparkle. Last week, when Squaw Peak was being burnt to a crisp, I could see the progress and fire-airplanes from my desk. Of course, my eyes are bad so I couldn't see details or anything, but still. I like my seat. :)
I think I'll write.
Thing is, NOTHING is going on at work. We need to keep our phones open because we have international customers. I've been logged on to my computer for about 20 minutes now, and I've done everything I can do to catch up. No tasks, emails all taken care of, no voicemails, all done. So I blog.
I am enjoying the view from my window, however, and I'm seeing the sun peak over the tall mountains that border the eastern side of Utah Valley. From where I sit (we're in Lindon) I can see lush green pastures, tall weeping willows and poplars, and the sun making all the green leaves sparkle. Last week, when Squaw Peak was being burnt to a crisp, I could see the progress and fire-airplanes from my desk. Of course, my eyes are bad so I couldn't see details or anything, but still. I like my seat. :)
I think I'll write.
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