I biked over to the closest convenience store to my house last night. They have relatively decent bottles of wine at this gas station, and I wanted to pick one up for our dinner, which was in the oven.
This place doesn't really have a bike rack anywhere, and since I was going to buy something quickly and bike back to my house, I brought my bike into the store with me.
As I walked into the store, I looked around for the best way to get to the wine rack in the back with my bike. The store was empty. The guy behind the counter said "Sir - You can't bring your bike in here!"
I was lost in thought. I processed what he said for a second, looked over at him, and said, hiding a smile, "I didn't see it posted anywhere?"
"It shouldn't have to be posted!"
Well, do I just take an insult from the guy who sells pornography, beer, cheap wine, blunts, cigarettes, herbal impotence medicine, lottery tickets, and gasoline?
At least he has a job, I guess, but what does he have against bikes? Is he involved in the vast right-wing conspiracy to stop people from biking so they burn more oil?
I was amazed at how quickly I went from jovial to saying this:
"Fine, I will never shop at your store again."
And I never will.
I backed my bike out the door, and I rode a mile farther down the road to the Food Lion. The last thing we need is to discourage people from riding bikes. I can use the extra exercise and the cost savings of going over to the Food Lion.
Now's probably a good time to mention the great satisfaction I have in tearing up credit offers from Chase Bank. Chase Bank gouged my wife and I with a trick refinancing offer about 5 years ago. The offer said we could refinance up to $5000 on our credit line we had open with them at 0% for one year. So, we wrote one of their special checks for $5000 to pay of higher interest debt. We then received a statement from Chase saying we had overdrawn our line of credit and we would get a ~$40 penalty on top of the $300+fee to refinance at 0%. And the interest rate, instead of being 0%, was over 20% because of our huge violation. What had we done wrong? The fine print said we had to take the fees out of our offer. It was hidden in there so you could easily miss it. It was predatory lending at its finest.
I called Chase. Here's how the conversation plays in my mind 5 years later:
"Can I ask what percentage of the people who take you up on this offer receive this penalty?"
"Sir," he replied, "It's your responsibilty to read the document and comply with the rules."
"Listen. My wife handled this transaction. She almost never makes this kind of mistake. We both went to Harvard, we both looked at it and did not expect see this error. I'm willing to pay the penalty but I will not pay 24.99% interest. Move it down to a reasonable rate and we will pay that."
I said the same thing to the person's manager, at which point I was told how irresponsible I was again.
"Okay. Here's the deal. Make this right or I will never use your bank again. I will immediately pay off this loan from another account. If you are bought by another bank, we won't use that bank."
"I'm sorry, sir, but this was your responsibility."
Every day, literally, we get a credit offer from Chase, which has been purchased by JP Morgan. We have good credit and we have often had to carry a balance, so we have paid lots of interest to credit card companies over the last 5 years. Chase was never one of them. Every day, I tear up their offer without reading it. [Note - Ironically, I'm sure Google ads will put a JP Morgan Chase ad on this page. Don't use Chase. They are gougers, but the joke's on them since no one actually read this blog]
There must a name for such break points, where your fuse reaches its endpoint and you just snap. This happens to me kind of frequently, perhaps because I tend to give people the benefit of the doubt a lot and assume that I'm the problem when little things go wrong.
John Lennon must have had this situation in mind in "I'm looking through you." The best line is: "Love has a nasty habit of disappearing overnight."
If the effect of a magic trick is "the prestige", what is the name for this point in a relationship where you turn from amicable to irreparable? I suggest "the souring," but anyone else's thoughts are welcome.
This place doesn't really have a bike rack anywhere, and since I was going to buy something quickly and bike back to my house, I brought my bike into the store with me.
As I walked into the store, I looked around for the best way to get to the wine rack in the back with my bike. The store was empty. The guy behind the counter said "Sir - You can't bring your bike in here!"
I was lost in thought. I processed what he said for a second, looked over at him, and said, hiding a smile, "I didn't see it posted anywhere?"
"It shouldn't have to be posted!"
Well, do I just take an insult from the guy who sells pornography, beer, cheap wine, blunts, cigarettes, herbal impotence medicine, lottery tickets, and gasoline?
At least he has a job, I guess, but what does he have against bikes? Is he involved in the vast right-wing conspiracy to stop people from biking so they burn more oil?
I was amazed at how quickly I went from jovial to saying this:
"Fine, I will never shop at your store again."
And I never will.
I backed my bike out the door, and I rode a mile farther down the road to the Food Lion. The last thing we need is to discourage people from riding bikes. I can use the extra exercise and the cost savings of going over to the Food Lion.
Now's probably a good time to mention the great satisfaction I have in tearing up credit offers from Chase Bank. Chase Bank gouged my wife and I with a trick refinancing offer about 5 years ago. The offer said we could refinance up to $5000 on our credit line we had open with them at 0% for one year. So, we wrote one of their special checks for $5000 to pay of higher interest debt. We then received a statement from Chase saying we had overdrawn our line of credit and we would get a ~$40 penalty on top of the $300+fee to refinance at 0%. And the interest rate, instead of being 0%, was over 20% because of our huge violation. What had we done wrong? The fine print said we had to take the fees out of our offer. It was hidden in there so you could easily miss it. It was predatory lending at its finest.
I called Chase. Here's how the conversation plays in my mind 5 years later:
"Can I ask what percentage of the people who take you up on this offer receive this penalty?"
"Sir," he replied, "It's your responsibilty to read the document and comply with the rules."
"Listen. My wife handled this transaction. She almost never makes this kind of mistake. We both went to Harvard, we both looked at it and did not expect see this error. I'm willing to pay the penalty but I will not pay 24.99% interest. Move it down to a reasonable rate and we will pay that."
I said the same thing to the person's manager, at which point I was told how irresponsible I was again.
"Okay. Here's the deal. Make this right or I will never use your bank again. I will immediately pay off this loan from another account. If you are bought by another bank, we won't use that bank."
"I'm sorry, sir, but this was your responsibility."
Every day, literally, we get a credit offer from Chase, which has been purchased by JP Morgan. We have good credit and we have often had to carry a balance, so we have paid lots of interest to credit card companies over the last 5 years. Chase was never one of them. Every day, I tear up their offer without reading it. [Note - Ironically, I'm sure Google ads will put a JP Morgan Chase ad on this page. Don't use Chase. They are gougers, but the joke's on them since no one actually read this blog]
There must a name for such break points, where your fuse reaches its endpoint and you just snap. This happens to me kind of frequently, perhaps because I tend to give people the benefit of the doubt a lot and assume that I'm the problem when little things go wrong.
John Lennon must have had this situation in mind in "I'm looking through you." The best line is: "Love has a nasty habit of disappearing overnight."
If the effect of a magic trick is "the prestige", what is the name for this point in a relationship where you turn from amicable to irreparable? I suggest "the souring," but anyone else's thoughts are welcome.
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