I heart DISH

We interrupt this slide show to share a recent interchange with DISH network

I came home from work yesterday to an automated voicemail message from DISH Network that Doc. B. needed to update an about-to-expire credit card.

I figured this was an easy task and that I could gain a sense of accomplishment rather quickly. I got out my credit card and called the Dish 800 number. Another automated message recognized our home phone number and told me to press or say the number “one” if I was calling about the account associated with this phone number. I pressed the number one.

Alex answered, gave me his operator ID and asked "how can I help you?"

I tell him "I need to update the credit card information on our account."

He asks who he's speaking to and then tells me that because I’m not Doc. B. he can’t take my credit card information. I ask if he can see that I’m calling from the phone number associated with the account and he says yes.

And I say, "well what do you think, that I’ve broken into this house to pay the bills?"

He’s not amused and asks if he can talk to Doc. B. I tell him no ('cause Doc. B.'s not home from work yet). So I press on and suggest that he ask me any of the security questions that he might normally ask Doc. B. and I even went so far as to bet him that I could answer any question he wanted. He says he can’t do that because he’ll lose his job. So I ask to speak to his supervisor. Alex puts me on hold and eventually comes back to tell me that his supervisor is on another call and did I want to hold.

At this point, I realize that I’m not going to get anywhere and that I should have just said that I was Doc. B. or done the old "oh wait, here’s Doc. B. now" and then pretended to be Doc. B.

Alex ends the call by telling me that if I’m added as an authorized user, I can make updates on Doc. B.’s account. So I hang up and call right back. And in my most awful southern accent I pose as Doc. B (sorry Doc. B. – I know you don’t talk like this!)

Jacob answers the call this time and I tell him that I want to add an authorized user to my account. He tells me that should be no problem; he’ll just need some information from me as follows:

Jacob: "Ma'am, are you in front of your TV?"

Me: "Why no son I ain’t, you want me ta’ go all that way upstairs with my walker to look at the TV?"

Jacob: "I’m sorry ma’am, but yes."

I take my time, fake huffing and puffing all the way, as I tell him exactly what I’m doing. "Okay, I's at the first landing of the stairs…now I's at the second landing…okay, son, I's up here, now I gotsta' figure out where I put that dad gum remote…okay sweetie honey darlin', which button you want for me to mash?"

Jacob gets the information he needs and then asks if there's anything else he can do for me.

I tell him I'd like a new hip so that I don't have to use this walker anymore but he doesn't even chuckle, not even a little bit. So I tell him that all I really wanted to do in the first place was to update my credit card information. I tell him that my sugar mamma wants to pay all of my bills and that I have the credit card information ready whenever he is. He takes everything down without flinching. We complete our call and I hang up satisfied. What I thought would be a quick sense of accomplishment wasn't so quick, but I sure had fun.

So just FYI, it's okay with DISH Network if you give them someone else's credit card information, but don't even try to call up and pay someone else's bill for them.

Life in the Single Wide

Since I was being all hoity toity about living in Victorian villas and Arts and Crafts abodes, I thought it only right to admit that I also had my dose of mid-century, pre-fab, modern-for-the-times, static caravan, shabby chic, 12’x 60’, living spaces too. Yes, I lived in a trailer.

The first trailer, that I lived in (before birth) was, according to my mom, pink…inside and out. So you know my parents must have gotten a deal on it. Or wait, it was the 60’s so maybe they actually paid top dollar for its trendiness? And look what they’re eating here in the pink trailer: canned peaches, hamburger patties on white bread, and probably milk in those really cool drinking glasses that would no doubt be worth a fortune on eBay this very moment. But hey, there was a candle and gifts on the table – could this have been my parents' first Christmas dinner together? How cute!

Then there’s trailer number 2 where we lived when I was born. Look at the upgrades! For one, it’s not pink – they went with the classic white. Next, it looks like it’s on a corner lot – good call if there’s a kid on the way – fewer neighbors to hear all that baby crying and whining. And is that an attached garage? Who knew! Is that even allowed in trailer parks? I wonder if this is what piqued my dad’s interest in planning and zoning? Oh wait, he already had his degree in urban planning before moving into this trailer so I don't know what to blame.

So there. It’s not all glitz and glamour in my residences like you thought. And to keep us humble in our current home, we bought a double-wide for the cat.

And here's our beloved cat, all ready to open up his very own double wide - some things never change...