It's Friday. The last day of the long, hot work-week.

It was technically a short work week since I took Monday off as a "vacation" day. I took the vacation day knowing I would need a full day to pack up all of the tables, chairs, tent top, left over food, lights and basically get the house, back-yard and garage re-organized.

Nearly a week later..... it's almost done.

Yep. Friday evening. And here I sit. On my front porch..... originally my hope was for some quiet time so that I could visit with all-a-y'all, but I'm realizing that's going to be just a tad difficult.

As such, this is my life:

Clean lawn chair. Mosquito coil smoking away. One kid at work. Spousal unit not home yet. Two little girls riding bikes up and down the driveway "Look Mom! Look Mom!" Flip-flops slapping the concrete as they run around. Older girl telling younger to do it like this or like that. Younger girl whining about everything she's told. Never a happy medium. Cranky son (really, who can blame him after helping his grandfather all week in this weather) sitting on the outdoor toybox, noisily sliding his skateboard across the surface of the porch. Not quietly rolling it back and forth, but obnoxiously, noisily scraping it from side to side. And of course, as teens do, gets angry at mom for asking him to stop.

Okay, he's gone. I'm having a hard time getting over it. Because this seems to be our new normal. Mom tries to be creative in finding a way to avoid making people angry - particularly on a beautiful Friday evening leading into what deems to be a beautiful weekend. It's not as simple as just getting them to bed earlier or making them take a nap. And even if I can get the spousal unit to let them sleep in on Saturday morning, they still manage to wake up hating life.

I know. I know. As a kid I was the same way (sort of - not really that bad). I dreaded waking up in the morning. I never did manage to put enough sugar on my Cheerios.... Yeah, I'll stop there. After all, I've got a reputation to uphold...

So the three kids are temporarily getting along, because for the moment they are all getting their way. Brother is filling and throwing water balloons and the girls are getting wet. So until someone gets a water balloon square in the face, I suppose they're all "content".

I often wonder what our neighbors think of us this time of year. Windows are left open and most normal people sit outside on their decks or porches enjoying the weather - but when the kids start getting annoyed with each other and screaming I begin to feel really guilty. When we first moved here, our immediate neighbor on the right said it would be good to hear kids playing in the neighborhood again - I wonder if she still feels the same way. I do notice she goes for a lot more walks now.

Well, they are starting. I knew it wouldn't take long. And, guess what? The spousal unit is finally home with a fresh supply of wine coolers.

**Note to Seagram's: Jamaican Me Happy! :)

The Good & The Bad (Customer Service)

The good:

My oldest has graduated high school with honors.
We have successfully planned, held, and cleaned up from the open house (details to be forthcoming in another blog).
Have only found 1 bug so far in the leftovers...
We are now looking forward to a relaxing summer and being able to catch up on all of the things that have been left in the dust for the past couple of months.

The BAD:

SAM'S CLUB CUSTOMER SERVICE (and Lowe's) ((read on...))

That's it. Only one "bad" thing happened to make this happy event a little bit of a downer.

Let me explain.... in gory detail.... and be prepared.... I'm going to mention (a lot) that I got the cake, and therefore, the horrible customer service from Sam's Club.

In planning our daughter's once in a lifetime high school graduation open house, one of the main details was to order The Cake. Because that's what you do. You order a cake for almost every big event/party/celebration that you have. And it has a message on it. In this case, it was congratulating the graduate. Easy enough, right? I mean, I assume that the message I had written myself on the order form is fairly common.... "Congratulations Monica - Class of 2012"

I took my scheduled "vacation day" off on Friday preceding the party. I left one kid in charge of cleaning the garage and getting some other house/yard things in order. I took another kid with me to pick up three tables and a 10'x10' tent top (thank you to Smitty's Roasted Corn). Brought them home. Unpacked the back end of the Pilot. Then it was back into town for round two. Went to Lowe's to pick up a few bags of gravel for backyard, fogger, bathroom towel rack and lattice and finials for the back deck.

     side note: By a show of hands, who here has ever messed with lattice? Pain in the arse, right?
     Well, being new to lattice myself I have found that it's not easy to pull off the rack that some CEO
     at Lowe's thought it would be a good idea to set at the height of 5' 6" from the floor - just over my
     head. Keep in mind, I have an 11 y.o. helping me. I have also found out that lattice catches easily
     on the piece that's underneath it, it's extremely rough and gives slivers and it breaks without
     warning.

     After four pieces of 4'x8' lattice have been loaded onto the blue cart - without any help from
     Lowe's staff, we make our way to the checkout. A young girl checks me out - again with no offer to
     help me out the door, to the car.... no "would you like to drive up?", NOTHING! 11 y.o. daughter
     and myself maneuver the uncooperative blue cart to our trusty Pilot. We open the back end and
     realize that we have a problem: The pieces of lattice are WAY TOO LONG! Well, after finagling
     one piece into the Pilot, (and up over the front seat headrests) a lovely lady offers a bungee so that
     we can tie down our tailgate. Very nice offer, but not very realistic. Still, I was very appreciative
     and said likewise. After we scrape arms, legs and interior of Pilot all to heck, the second piece of
     lattice is now safely in the vehicle. Then, my hero, the extremely nice older gentleman who had
     parked next to us offered to help us get the last two pieces in. I felt horribly guilty accepting his
     help since he was obviously older, but felt I would be a fool to turn him down. During the process
     of fighting the last two pieces in, another gentleman stopped to watch - I suppose, in case we
     needed the help? The last two pieces went in much more smoothly than the first two and I am
     forever grateful to the older gentleman in the light green Prius who helped us.

     Please note: In the living out of this story, NO LOWE'S EMPLOYEE HELPED OR EVEN
     OFFERED TO HELP!!!

Now, back to our regularly scheduled program...

We are now home and, after a deep breath and resigning myself to the phrase: slow and steady wins the race, we unpack the car without inflicting too much damage on the lattice, the Pilot or ourselves.

What? We don't have enough stain? Well, you'd better believe that I'M NOT GETTING IT FROM LOWE'S!!

I feel I must apologize here, as my story becomes a bit of a blur. It's been a long hot weekend and I know that between Friday at 1600 hours and Saturday bedtime we accomplished cleaning the garage, cleaning and organizing the shed so that most of the garage would fit into it, cleaning most of the house, mowing the yard, staining the lattice, installing the lattice, installing the also newly-stained finials, making 4 batches of Italian pasta salad, 3 batches of coleslaw, painting signs, putting together decorations/flowers/candles, setting up tables and tablecloths in the garage, wiping down coolers and chairs, spraying the backyard fogger, picking up the cake and cupcakes......

Now we are going to screech to a halt, because in all of the set up and clean up involved in any typical graduation open house, as I have just mentioned, I was actually able to squeeze in yet another trip to town to pick up the pre-ordered cake (large sheet cake) and cupcakes (60 to be exact) from our local Sam's Club. They had the best prices in town, which made the icing choices (minimal and a bit obnoxious) easy to overlook. I completed the three separate (very confusing) order forms. Went over each one of them, orally, with the lady behind the bakery counter and was very satisfied and pleased that that chore was done. Upon picking up the cakes the day before the party, I was slightly disappointed in the actual icing colors, but complimented the bakers/icers anyways. Got the overly huge boxes safely into the trusty Pilot and was happily on my way home - again.

Once home, we pulled the boxes out of the car and made it into the house with each box without any catastrophes. Then, the moment we had all waited for..... like the beginning of Wagner's Bridal Chorus, as the church doors open, and there she is.... the bride of all brides, her radiance to behold. She steps into the light and.... What?! Her name was spelled wrong?! Her name is spelled wrong! I couldn't believe it! My first thoughts were of how could I not have checked more closely while I was at the store? Because she has a very simple first name. That's why. And because I wrote it out myself - in capitals, block lettering. How can they mess up something so easy?

I immediately took pictures and then got on the phone to call the bakery. I explained the problem and that I simply did not have the time to bring it back to the store to be fixed. Remember, I'm putting together an open house added to the fact that it was a large sheet cake. The lady was apologetic and was sure that if I brought in my receipt that I would be given a refund.

Sunday evening came, the guests arrived, the food was excellent, the sun was shining, laughter and good times were everywhere. My kids and I told the story to everyone of how my daughter's name was misspelled on the cake (by the by: they spelled it "Moncia" rather than "Monica"). Oh well, we all laughed, it will be something funny to remember. I harbored no ill-will towards Sam's knowing that they would make it right. It was just a funny human error. After all, anyone of us could have done it.

The party's now over. Everyone went to bed happy and slept soundly. Monday morning seemed to roll in just a little too early. But I knew I must get up and start the clean up and break down of all the party items. Table cloths laundered. Tent taken down. Tables and chairs folded, stacked and returned. Stop by Sam's with receipt and camera in hand to show them pictures, if necessary.

We stood at the Customer Service counter (ironic, isn't it?) for a few minutes. The stand-offish clerk asked if she could help us (no, we just really like standing here). I explained the problem to her and she immediately said she would need to speak to her manager, "coach so-and-so". This "coach" was already at the counter along with two other Customer Service reps, looking at what was apparently a huge, unsolvable mystery on one of the computer screens. No other customer is there, they are just trying to figure out this issue before actually helping a real person.

Finally, the coach turns her attention to the CS rep, who literally mumbles our problem to her. Coach then, without acknowledging me AT ALL, proceeds to call another "coach" in "the back". Coach number 1's back is to me as she recites the issue over the phone. After the call, she hangs up, turns back to the CS rep and says "Half." The CS rep moves to another register, around the corner and more towards the back and asks me to step over there. I don't know what was wrong with the four registers that she was standing at when I first approached her. I think it's so that "happy customers" don't see "disgruntled customers" getting refunds. The CS rep then repeats to me what I had already her Coach number 1 snap out. "We can give you half back."

"But I was told that I would get a full refund."

"The refunds are at the manger's discretion."

"Manager's discretion?" I pause to make sure I heard this correctly. "Can I see the written policy that states that you only give half refunds in these situations?" It sounds to me that they are making this up as they go along.

"I can call Coach Mike, if you'd like."

I stand for a few minutes, getting angry, realizing that up to this point, neither the CS rep, nor Coach number 1 have even offered an apology. That, the apology, (a sincere apology), would have made taking the "half" refund feel better. But... "Yes, please call Coach Mike."

Coach Mike comes out and barrels towards the counter with his hand outstretched. "Hi, I'm Mike."

I take his hand, as I'm not to the point of blowing up quite yet. "I'm Ruby." I explain the situation, which he's already heard through Coach number 1's first phone call.

He pretends to mull this over. He's really doing me a favor standing there thinking about it. "Did you eat the cake?"

Now really, what kind of a question is that? We just had an open house. Of course we ate the cake. What else was I supposed to offer my guests on such short notice? "Yes."

"Well, if you've eaten it, then I'm really not supposed to give you a full refund. I'm going to be out forty dollars."

First of all, sweetie, the cake was $36.00. That's the price that you are charging the customer. The cost that you are actually "out" is the seventy-five cents it took you to make the cake and the $3.70 for the half hour at minimum wage spent "decorating" the cake. So really, I'm not convinced in the least that you are "out" forty dollars.

"Well, unfortunately" I say, "I noticed the error at home, rather than in the store. I simply did not have time to bring it back to be fixed. And, of course we ate it. That's why I bought the cake - to feed my guests. And -" I continue, "It's not like it was a birthday where it happens every year. It was a once-in-a-lifetime event."

"I'm really not supposed to do this, but I'll do it, this one time. I'll give you a full refund." Coach Mike again explained that because we'd eaten the cake, he wasn't supposed to give a refund. Mike was steaming, but kept himself maintained, barely, as he gave his lordly approval for the full refund to the CS rep.

"Card please."

I hand my membership card and my receipt to the CS rep. She does her thing and rings up the refund. "MasterCard?"

     Side Note: During the process of having my full refund very begrudgingly rung up, one of the
     other CS reps, who was missing at least one front tooth, asked me if my daughter has a "strange"
     name. First, it's kind of late for that now. Second, it's really none of your business, as you didn't
     have any part of this transaction. And third, NO. It's a six letter name that is really very common.
     Not to mention, I wrote it out myself!

"Yes, MasterCard.... Oh, did you need it?" Most places, nowadays, simply scan the receipt and all the info is there to credit back the card - apparently not here. I hand over my card. The CS rep completes the transaction, slides one copy of the receipt towards me to sign, staples another copy to the original receipt which she also slides across the counter to me. "Thank you." I say.

Nothing....

"Sooooo.... Are we all set?"

"Yep." Yep? Did you really just say "yep"?  I don't even get an insincere apology? Wow! Customer service as we know has just plummeted off a cliff into the deepest, darkest abyss.

That was it. CS rep turned away from the counter and busied herself. I put my receipt and cards away in my purse while mumbling, quietly at first. "Yep?" I was in total disbelief. "Did she really just say yep?" I then started to make my way around the counter towards the door, corralling up my kids. "Remind me to not shop at Sam's Club anymore..... " Anywho... I'm sure that's the nicest thing I said as I was leaving. And I gradually got louder, because at one comment, I know I saw two heads snap around in my direction.

Now folks, all these people had to do was sympathize with me. Be on my side. Apologize for their mistake. Let us recap: THEIR MISTAKE! Instead, they instantly treated me like I was the enemy, like I had walked in to their store (how dare I), and was angrily pounding my fist on the counter demanding my money back. I wasn't. In fact, very truthfully, as I mentioned earlier, I figured that it was kind of funny and that we'd all have a good memory of Monica's cake-mistake. But thanks to extremely, poorly-trained customer service representatives, this entire situation has left a very bad taste in my mouth.

And, unfortunately for Sam's Club and Lowe's, the portion of the world that I can reach via the World Wide Web will know about the very serious shortcomings of two very large retailers: SAM'S CLUB & LOWE'S.

C'mon! I dare you!

So I've been told that I am a bit opinionated. Well, duh! Everyone is. Some of us are just more outspoken than others.

Funny thing is that really, it depends on a couple of different factors...

1. The Topic:

Politics: I don't really get involved with this topic too much, simply because I don't get to sit around all morning and evening listening to Fox News, so I'm not as informed as I would like to be on the political frontier.

If you'd like to get me going, one subject you can bring up is the school district that we live in. The (2 years in a row now) yearbook spread of the teen girls who had babies in high school is exceptionally high on the scale of what infuriates me the most. I actually wrote about this subject before. I tried to keep it PC, but well... you know.

And the teachers.... actually, most of them are super awesome and great for the kids because they are actually there for the kids. You know what I mean. Then you have those that think they are super heroes or something because they get to wear the school colors and hold a coaching position. And here I go again. NOT ALL COACHES AND/OR TEACHERS ARE BAD. Just so we have that clear... Ahem! We had two coaches who screwed up BIG TIME this year. (You should be able to find out about both on the local news websites.) ((Losers!)) And, yeah, I was mad. I'm sure most other parents were as well. But I got a little carried away on Facebook and then... well a few people commented back. Good. I can take it.

2. My Mood:

Now, if I'm feeling mellow, I'm probably gonna sway more towards letting bothersome topics go by without me saying anything at all. And again, it would depend on the topic and how much you want to push the subject, and/or how much you want to push the fact that you think you're right. It's funny.... Even though I sometimes agree with a statement, I'll re-state the statement the way I feel it should be stated: correctly.

I wouldn't say I'm a huge talker, but there are times when I can ramble on, getting a little too in depth, or giving too much detail to the person I am speaking to. I've been training myself to simply say "No comment". It's hard. I mean, really hard. But it's for sanity's sake that i just let it go and move on.

3. To Whom I am Directing My Wrath:

During the course of a normal day, I come into contact with a lot of different "types" of people. Some fast talkers, some who just think they know it all - on every subject; some just like to chit-chat, kids, adults, givers, takers, etc.

I've learned to talk a mean streak, which I actually enjoy. I like asking questions and finding out what makes people tick. There are rarely those that you can connect with and talk in depth about any subject. Most are people who just need something, or that you need something from. Once the need is met, they (or you) move on. Case closed.

But... Once in a while (or maybe I should say: All too often), though, there is someone who will come along and say or do something, and I, like a Venus Fly Trap, will snap. Factor #1 and Factor #2 play a big part in this as well. I am most comfortable spouting off on Facebook or Twitter, or to other people about the person/thing that has set me off.

Honing my skills at the Art of Giving People a Piece of My Mind Without Them Realizing It Until Later is something I've been half-consciously working on throughout the second half of my life. It's quite entertaining to know that it will dawn on them some time after you've said good bye.

In summary, I'd like to let you all know that I'm not a psychiatrist, nor a psychologist. Hey, I don't even know what the difference is. But I think exploring why I'm like this would make for an interesting blog topic. Also, I'd like to leave you with this final thought.... an ecard greeting thing that I came across on Facebook. It kind of reminds me of me, especially when I'm at work.... (but don't let them know that.)