Another Homefront Adventure

Hello, F.O.T.E.'s!
Well, my cell phone is fixed...sort of. It had stopped working about 2 weeks ago, and I finally worked up the moxy to go by the C****** store to see what they could do about it. Yes, it took some bravery, because every other time we've had a phone stop working and we went in to have it fixed, it cost us a bunch of money, or years added onto the blasted contract. So, I went in to the store a couple days ago, ready to do battle.
At first, the lady said, "Well, I bet you're due for an upgrade." (?) I replied, "OK." She clicked away on her computer a few seconds, then frowned...like a doctor hearing something through the stethoscope. "Hmm..." she said... "You can't have an upgrade for another 10 months." I replied, "OK." (?) Then, she looked at me in a way that implied, "Ok, thank you for playing...NEXT!" I looked back at her in a way that implied, "That's NOT your final answer." An impasse.
I asked, "How much would it cost just to pay off the contract?" Either I was getting service or I was running.
Another worker walked up and addressed the first one, "Is she wanting an upgrade?"
I blurt, "I just want my phone to work." (sad face) I decided that maybe bluffing a confident attitude was less effective than playing the pity card. I threw in, "My husband is a deployed soldier and I really need a phone to stay safe..." (Ok, I don't NEED a phone...it's a luxury...but one of my favorite ones. :-) (C'mon lady, where's your patriotism?!) PAUSE
The first worker leaned close to my ear, "We'll fix you up."
What does that mean? I don't need a blind date, I need a phone!!!
The worker began digging around in a back closet, and soon produced a cell phone that looked like a long-lost twin to my own. She waved a magic wand over them both, then handed me the new one. (Really, she just used a new shell and put the computer-thingy from my old one into it...did I fool you? ;-) Anway, she tested it out and the bandaid fix worked. I was happy. I think I'll try the pity card more often. They see right through the Confident Woman act. :-)
Well, y'all keep your wool dry!
The Ewe
Quote of the Day: (while visiting with MommyX3 at a restaurant, one of the flock asked:) "Mommy, what's this card?" (holding up a solar system collecting card)
The Ewe: "Venus. It's the brightest planet."
MommyX3: "Nah. We're smarter than those people on Venus."

Proof of What?!

Hello, F.O.T.E.s!
Well, The Ewe continues to experience the big, wide world. ;-) Monday I had to renew our two vans' registrations. Silly me, I thought I'd just take those two cute li'l' postcards into the courthouse, write a check, and come waltzing out with two li'l' stickers for the license plates. Well, now. There seems to be some unwritten rule about needing "proof of insurance" before they'll let you have those li'l' stickers! When the lady asked for that, I was standing at the counter, juggling a baby, a purse and those postcards. I handed T.T. over to Carnival and commenced digging through my 50 lb handbag. I produced an insurance card and handed it over to the clerk. "I'll need a card for *both* vehicles, please." Really? Ok, well, I don't *have* the card for my husband's van, so I'll have to come back. Trot, trot, trot...I and my entourage replace ourselves in our seatbelts and drive the 30 minutes back home. I look in DH's van--nothing. I go into the house, looking for the card for DH's van...nothing, though I did grab the actual policy, in the event that the card never surfaced. Upon close examination of the policy, I discovered that the card I *did* have was actually the card for DH's van and the missing card was for *my* van. Well, isn't that interesting?
Anyway, with 3,000 page (yes, I'm exaggerating) policy document in hand, I climbed back into the van and drove the 30 minutes back to the courthouse. This time, my entourage and I tooled into the clerk's office, presented the aforementioned 3,000 page document-- oh and don't forget the cute li'l' postcards--wrote a check and walked out victorious with two li'l' stickers. All in about 7 minutes. I did think that after all I went through, they should have given me a plaque or something, but the lady acted like that wasn't going to happen, so I just thanked her and left.
A day later I was chatting online with The Ram. I told him my tale of woe about the insurance cards and the adventure getting the registration renewed (by the way, if I'd just mailed it in, none of that would have happened, eh? Hmmm....). He asked if I had a new card for my van. I told him, "No, but I've got the policy in there." For some reason, this made him laugh really hard. Evidently, he was envisioning me being pulled over by the police and handing the officer that 3,000 page document. The Ram said it would almost be worth it to see the cop's face. I was unaware that this was "just not done." So, in the span of another 7 minutes, The Ram had emailed me a copy of my van's insurance and I'd printed it off and placed it in my 50 lb handbag.
Just wait...in another year, I'll wait for those cute li'l' postcards to come in the mail. I'll drive into town with my proof of insurance. I'll march in there and write a check and come out with two stickers. All in 7 minutes. Just you wait...
Well, gotta run....Lambies will be rousing before long. Y'all keep your wool dry!
The Ewe
Quote of the Day: "These pants are on their last leg!" Anonymous Lambie