Friday, March 25, 2011

Love part 2

I’m almost certain I started counting the days to the next dance where I thought I might run into this boy? Young man? Love of my life?  I’d learned that he set aside Saturday night for bowling with a friend. Ridiculous! Who bowls on Saturday night? In my opinion, Saturday was for dancing. Of course, so were Thursday, Friday, and Wednesday if possible. College classes were a necessary evil. So, a week until I would see David again. I’m sure I planned my outfit with more care the next week, but a GAP girl with modish tendencies and a passion for Converse really finds herself limited when trying to attract the opposite sex.
I was not disappointed. He was as adorable as I remembered! Those eyes, under those eyebrows! Smitten was an understatement. Also, a very attractive mouth; kissable would be a good description. We discussed a Halloween party coming up that we all intended to attend. My heart fluttered at the idea of seeing him again, knowing the time and place. A friendship began to develop, chatting with our common friends. He was hiding behind the DJ tables, and I wasn’t afraid to join him there to drag him out onto the dance floor. (Those two years in Alaska had been as a missionary and girls were a no-no.) He was nervous after this hiatus. I was safe. However, a safe friend was not who I wanted to be, but if it meant I was the one dancing with him, it was a means to an end.
Thanks to my dad, I had a job at Radio Shack. He required me to get a job. He got me the job. It paid for my entertainment expenses and filled my days. I probably spent more time at Radio Shack daydreaming to the music than selling personal computers, which were still somewhat of a novelty. Between school and the Shack, I thought I was pretty busy, but I was definitely glad that I had money for gas, movies, dancing, and eating out with my friends.
I was going through an interesting stage. I would only eat meat at home (my parents’ house). I decided restaurant meat was gross, and I wouldn’t eat it. Desserts were also off limits. I tended toward the plump, and desserts made that worse. Not eating dessert meant I could sometimes share clothes with my 5’2” best friend. This came up one night after a dance when a bunch of us piled into Paul’s dad’s big old whale of a car and headed over to Denny’s, one of the few places open at one in the morning. I ordered a Pepsi (What in the world made me think that soda was better for me than meat or desserts? But, such is the mind of a 19 yr old.) and Mary ordered a brownie sundae. So did David. I sipped at the pepsi as Mary tried to tempt me with the gooey chocolateyness of her sundae. I really wasn’t tempted at all. One, I don’t really care for chocolate ice cream (which her stirred up concoction had become) and two, I had honestly talked myself into thinking desserts didn’t really taste all that good. David joined in the fray. He couldn’t believe that I wouldn’t want a bite of chocolatey goodness. While I hated to disappoint him, it did at least draw his attention my way. Silly, teenage antics.
The night of the Halloween party arrived and Mary and I dressed up as who knows what. I had one thing on my mind, seeing David. The party was at a house out in the country with a haunted house in the barn. Trying to be subtle, I scanned the crowd. No sign of my mind-altering crush. I tried to look cheerful and enjoy myself, but I really was consumed by the idea of seeing this boy-man. (What is a 22 year old?) I wandered the yard, scanning the mummies, cowboys, and silliness that a bunch of college-age kids engage in o(n the 31st of October. I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned to look into the deep-set (blue/green?) eyes of the best looking zombie I had ever seen! My heart leapt! He had been asked (because of the great makeup/costume job his sister had done) to join the haunted house crew and had been inside. We talked and laughed and I’m sure he had no idea that my heart was pounding in my throat. He asked Mary and I if we wanted to come see the Blazer that his parents had bought for him to start his new job as a runner (errand boy) for the law firm that his uncle worked for. Of course we headed out to the dirt road where he had parked and I managed, as I had for the past couple of weeks, to sit beside him in the car. We admired and fussed over his new to him vehicle; he was obviously excited by the purchase. The flirting had begun, but I wondered if this sweet, adorable boy was directing this attention toward me, or my ever adorable friend Mary. I went home, elated but nervous with a stomach full of butterflies and a surely a wistful look in my eye.

Tuesday, March 22, 2011


Although I really wanted to vent about my ridiculous experience with "cell phone insurance", I don't really want that negative post to be what's up on my blog. So, I think I'll post the 1st page of a story I wrote. This may not be the best photo, but the story was inspired by the 2nd guy from the left. 

When I first saw him, I’m sure I thought he was pretty cute, because by the time we were introduced I definitely thought he was hot. I’m sure it sounds trite in this day and age, but we first met at a church dance. I might have made a better impression if my best friend, Mary, hadn’t been sitting on my lap. I knew a lot of his friends, but David had been in Alaska for two years. I vaguely remembered that Dennis the DJ had mentioned this guy that wrecked his little, old Porsche. So, our friend Paul walked up with the new guy that I couldn’t seem to take my eyes off of. I knew right away that he was the one. I mean he was The One! Of course, I had no idea how to let him know that.
My dating history wasn’t all that fantastic. I wouldn’t count any of the “dates” I went on in high school as real, only one other boy that would even come close to being called a “boyfriend” and a few innocent kisses with unrealistic young men. This was my foundation. I would discover much later that his story was as far from mine as possible. I think he dated every girl he ever met. Of course, he was gorgeous; at least in my opinion. He was WAY out of my league. But I didn’t care. I wanted him. I tried to steel myself for the inevitable heartbreak.
So, back to that concrete slab outside Arizona State University and my 19 year-old self. It was a Friday night in October and the evenings were finally cool enough to wear something other than shorts and a t-shirt, but I probably was anyway. I would definitely describe myself as casual, leaning toward what we used to call “mod”. I probably wanted to be a punk, but was too much of a rule follower and smart kid to go all the way. I would definitely shred my black tights, but no spiked dog collar for me! I’d like to say, “I’ll always remember what I wore the night we met.” But I don’t. It was probably a GAP t-shirt and cut-off jeans. Pretty sexy, eh? I don’t even remember what he was wearing. I probably never took my eyes off his face, the deep-set eyes (Were they blue or green?), cheek bones, and yes, of course a dimple! Brown hair brushed the tops of his strong eyebrows. I was definitely smitten.
I’m sure we danced. I was one of the few people there that he knew. I was friends with all of his friends, automatically part of the same group. I don’t know the songs, something 80’s, not country. We seemed to have similar taste in music, Depeche Mode, the Cure. I was always trying to get Dennis (remember, the DJ, one of our common friends) to play more alternative music. Surely people would dance to the Dead Milkmen and the Pixies. Dennis seemed to think otherwise. He never would play Panic, by the Smiths, I just didn’t get it. Maybe it was Howard Jones. I do remember we both loved to dance to Howard Jones.
What I remember most is the dreamy feeling leaving the dance. I recall my nervousness mentioning my sudden crush to Mary on our way home that night. She was much cuter than me, a boy magnet. I won’t even go into other crushes I had who ended up dating Mary, with her fiery red hair, and calling me to discuss the relationship with a “friend”. Pain in the butt! So, I wanted to know if my best friend thought he was as cute as I did, but I definitely didn’t want to draw her attention to my imagined future spouse. She conceded that he was “alright”, but hadn’t really paid much attention to him. Her focus must have been elsewhere that night. I was satisfied.

Monday, March 21, 2011

my terrible experience with cell phone insurance

Last week Lauren dropped her phone in the bucket of soapy water while she was washing the car. Crazy, right? So nothing happens until about Friday when suddenly her phone won't turn on. "No big deal", I think, "We paid for the insurance on this phone." So we grab the receipt and box and toddle off to T-mobile to find out about getting a new phone. I explain what happened to the kid at the T-mobile and he smiles knowingly and pulls up our information on the computer.
"Wait", he says, "you don't have insurance on this phone." Well, I saw something on my account that seemed a little strange the day before so I explained that I had bought the phone for my husband, but he didn't like it, but when Lauren trashed her old one, he just switched the sim cards and took his old standard flip phone back. Of course, I had the original receipt showing that I had purchased the insurance on this phone and had been making the payments all along, about 10 months or $60.
Well, the kid informs me that insurance stays with the phone line, not the phone, which is ridiculous, because how many times do you drop your phone # into the toilet? Never, right? And so, even though I have a receipt for the phone and it says "handset protection and warranty" right on it apparently, I have insurance on David's stupid little flip phone.
I try to make some headway with this kid and he suggests that I talk directly to Assurant, the insurance company. I explain my predicament to them and they tell me the exact same thing. They say they're really sorry, but so many people try to scam them by trading phones when they don't have insurance that they can't do anything about it. (of course this is the exact opposite of what we did)
I explain again that I have the original receipt with the purchase of the phone and the "handset protection warranty" and both phone numbers are on the same account. We are the original owners. The phone hasn't switched owners, just users. However, this makes no difference. I ask to talk to the supervisor to whom I must explain the whole thing again. She comes on the line after the first person says that he's explained the situation to her. I ask if she know what's going on and she says, "Well I understand that you want to replace a phone that you don't have insurance on." I was fuming! I re-explain the whole thing and she basically says, sorry, Is there any thing else we can do for you. No! You can do what I've been paying you for 10 months to do. Oh, and during this conversation, they inform me that there would be a $40 replacement fee for the phone if they did cover it, so maybe I could just find a $40 phone for my kid.
Let's just forget that I bought this touch screen, web-enabled browser phone for my husband.
So I get off the phone with the &@#^ insurance company and the T-mobile kid suggests that I talk to the people at "customer loyalty" since I have been a loyal customer for so long and I'm now threatening to cancel my 3 phones. So I call and have to explain the situation to the first rep and then again to the loyalty department and they offer to take $40 off the price of a replacement phone. So after spending $60 on insurance, I can spend another $105 and get a replacement phone, or I can get a crappy phone for $40.
This begins to seriously tick me off.

Who in the world needs insurance on their phone #? I bought insurance on a phone!