Another example of: It’s SO Frustrating---my first issue with US Cellular

     Let me start by saying I think that US Cellular works for me. I have, at great expense, tried a number of different carriers and found US Cellular to be the most cost effective of the lot. In most cases I have found customer service to be better than tolerable. With the exception of having to wait a long time on the phone to get almost any human attention, or waiting an eternity for any help with the reps in the store, all of my problems have been taken care of to my satisfaction. 

Until this week. The phone has been working fine until recently. It is just acting wonky, so I wanted to see about doing something about it. I went to the company store, where I have done all of my business, to have them take a look and tell me what it is I am doing wrong.

I got to the shop on Wednesday at around 1:30 and the tech had just gone on break. My luck is true. I was told that he usually takes his break at no specific time, just when he can, between customers. I have to admit I appreciated that he worked for his customers with such dedication. It was just dumb luck that my break and his worked the way it did.

Today, I just went to the store, there were cars outside and each of the reps was talking to someone, yet the repair station was locked up. I was told that the repair shop is closed on Saturdays, but if I wanted to I could go the the other location and have my phone serviced there.

My reply was that I was here, not there. I left before I vented any more supercilious comments.

Like most people my life is complicated. Unlike most people, I do not know when I will be some place at at a certain time. The work I do is varied on a daily basis, in other words each day is a different and the schedule changes, sometimes on an hourly basis. I pay a lot of money for the services that US Cellular gives me. Is it too much to ask for them to have a tech on duty when I walk in to their walk-in service?

olc

Why O Why

My little girl was three and so cute and good and pure. Her mother was on the street doing what she had to to get what she needed. I was trying to peddle cheap trinkets on the street, and failing miserably. I had a monkey on my back and no place to unload it. The world was closing in on me and I could not find a way out, no escape routes, no doors to smash down and escape through, nothing.

I was letting my child down. I could not provide for her or even me. My bike was running on empty and the road ahead was bleak. I did not even fit into the cracked up world I was living in.

I found a place for her, but I was not welcome...more nails in my coffin.

I was riding a little later trying to get things straight. It was dusk. There was this long curve around the USAF base in the town we lived in and I was riding it, not sure what to do about anything. It had been a long time since my last hit and everything was just getting too much to deal with. I drifted into the oncoming lane. There was a car coming at me.

I looked at the grill, then my eyes wondered up to the drivers. The thoughts that ran through my addled brain were desperate and suicidal. I should just end it all, drop a gear and wheelie into the grill of that asshole driving at me.

I was still looking into his eyes, they were getting bigger and bigger. I saw my beautiful daughter in them. All of a sudden, he changed into her. His face, now hers. I pulled the bike into my own lane. The guy just stared at me as we passed each other, his eyes filled with fear, anger and questions. His eyes were the same color as my little girls. I was so numb that I only kept riding on.

Riding, a little while later, I was so low in depression that the unknown of death seemed better than the torture that I was going through. I was not scared of living or even of dying. I just did not want to go through the pain of living any more.

She was so innocent, my little girl, so trusting. I was going out and doing stupid stuff. Her eyes would light up when I would get her. Love flowed from her smile and I was betraying it. What good was I as a father, as a man? I was sure she would be better off without me.

How did I keep going? Why should I breath air? The thought of her eyes smiling at me was part of it. Not knowing what would happen to my little girl, did indeed scare me into living.

I made it through that self destructive chapter in my life. I found strength in myself. I still feel bouts of depression, but at least now I have a better defined purpose. I still ride, but the desire to paint the hood of a car with my blood has never been so powerful, and I still have that beautiful smile that brightens even my darkest days.

olc

Requiem for Brian

When I started going through the rituals I do before writing, my iTunes list popped up. Some song came up automatically, I think it was Dream On, by Aerosmith. That song always sends me into an introverted mood. The next was Sad Lisa, by Cat Stevens.

This song brought me back to Brian.

I have written a few of these letters of memorial for important people in my life---kinda wish I didn’t feel the need. It seems like the only profound emotions I have are lose and sorrow.

Working at Doc’s brought out some of my less noble traits. My issues were not the fault of Doc’s, I have always had them. My addictions and narcissism would have come through at some point with or without that place. There were, and still are I presume, some very special people there. People who enabled me to keep ahold of the core person I am. 

Brian was one.

I cannot say that he was a close friend, though I wish I could. He was loyal and kind and even powerful in his own way. He could always come back with a smart-ass remark and a smile while he did it. How could anyone be mad at him? When talking to him, one knew that he was all about you. That guy got more women under his arm than most straight guys! (NOT FAIR!) Yet through all his joviality, there was strength and wisdom.

When he came out to me, I was going through some trivial shit with the mother of my daughter, another in a long list. Brian listened to my rants and meaningless drivel without any judgement. I don’t even remember what he said, or what the problem was, yet I remember feeling better about my life. Then he said I needed to hear what he had to say. I was able to step above my self serving morass and really listen to him.

Truth is, I don’t really remember the details of the conversation, just the feelings. Honesty was the strongest among them. Pain too. After work that night, we went to the Chattahoochee River and talked for hours. We just sat there and talked.

Working at Doc’s and being gay, must have been difficult, way beyond my understanding. Yet he felt safe enough to tell me. I wonder if I was one of the first guys to know. I’ll never know. I have never talked about this, even after it was common knowledge; he asked that of me.

During my worst times, when some one I needed to trust was betraying it, thus destroying the silly dream world I was trying to build, Brian was there as a friend, a confidant, yes even as a shoulder to lean on. He gave me permission, if you will, to stop being an idiot.

Now iTunes has queued Meatloaf’s Heaven Can Wait. No it can’t. Heaven, or whatever, has taken a good man. Though I have not been in touch with him for a very long time, I always knew if I needed to, I could always reach out to him. Now I cannot. My world has been profoundly shaken. I know that I will always be able to reach out/in to memories and feel him, but he is gone forever and always. My world has been profoundly shaken.