Polite Insistence

I've spent the last month or two obsessing about down comforters. Surprising? No. I am fairly often consumed with learning all I can about a particular thing, researching until I am splitting hairs. Often this will result in a purchase. 

I decided that having a smaller comforter for the sofa could save a decent amount on our oil bill. I can leave the downstairs thermostat on 60 and keep warm while writing or reading. Or that is the idea anyway. Never mind how lovely it feels to be all snuggled up under a giant cozy marshmallow.  I am virtuously focused on saving energy and money. 

I've been shopping locally—and supporting the local economy—yet not quite finding the fluff level I seek. On a recommendation I decided to order a comforter from The Company Store to compare quality. They had some good sale prices. A banner across the top of their website announced a promotion code for 15% off + free shipping. Pretty much everyone is offering discounts and free shipping. Retailers are really hustling this year. They want your cash before the after xmas sales. But when I tried to check out online, The Company Store applied the discount, but not the free shipping. An outrageous $18.95 they think I will pay. Not I. My grandmother didn't raise any suckers.

After several frustrated tries—which included coming back to find my cart empty—I called to place the order. The first guy I spoke to told me it was only meant to be a free shipping upgrade—meaning faster delivery, But not, in fact, actual free shipping. You are kidding, right? I am very polite, no edge to my voice. I ask him to give my order free shipping because that is what it says on the site. Right then he should have apologized and made the adjustment to my order. Did he? No. He protested that the free shipping was from the previous promotion, not this one. Really? How does that make any difference to me? If it says free shipping I should have free shipping. I should not be wasting my time pushing my point. He persisted in denying me free shipping. When I didn't budge he grudgingly passed me on to customer service. 

Does our nice customer service guy apologize and give me free shipping? Noooooo. With a more authoritative voice he also tries to tell me that the free shipping offer clearly stated on the site was from the previous promotion, not this one. By this time I have clicked on the asterisk several times to read the fine print . (Is there ever an offer that doesn't have an asterisk?) My order clearly and easily qualifies for free shipping with no loopholes for them to weasel out with. We go another round with a stalemate.

In the next round I read him not just part of the fine print, but ALL of it. Carefully and distinctly. Yet again he insists that what I am reading applied to a previous offer, not the current one, which is a typo. I do not give up easily. That is pretty obvious by now. Again I read him the entire fine print with firm insistence in my voice, but no hostility. I add that if he cannot help me then I would like to be transferred to someone who can. Now there is a long pause. A pause so silent that I wondered if he was still there. Finally he speaks and informs me somewhat defensively that HE has the authority to honor what it says in writing and give me free shipping. Whew. There was a definite edge to his voice. An edge he maintains for the duration of our transaction. At long last my order is placed and I am DONE.

The comforter came all the way across the country and arrived very promptly. Did I love it? Was it worth all hassle? Well, to be fair it is a lovely shade of purple. By a small margin the color is nicer than even my LLBean purple flannel sheets. Is it fluffy and lovely? No. Not at all. The fabric is very thick, heavier than any of my sheets. A comforter shell does not need to be thick to keep the feathers in. It just needs to be a good tight weave. This fabric is mediocre at best. Also, all their comforters are "oversize", which would be nice feature were it not for the fact that The Company Store makes the only comforter covers that will fit.

Needless to say, I will not be making any future purchases from The Company Store. I will not suffer the hassle of returning it.  Since I ordered a twin size, it will be perfectly fine for one of the monkeys. It will keep them warm without being too precious to lay in their path of destruction. And they both love purple.

Holding Doors

I have begun tutoring the monkeys in the finer points of this courtesy. Gracefully step ahead of your mother to reach the door first. Do not cut in front of her and crash on ahead with no regard for anyone else going in or out. Macy's double doors are the perfect practice ground. It seems so simple, but I've found it is not at all intuitive. The key to opening, then holding the door open for someone else requires the physical dexterity to quickly -- and gracefully position your body in line with the door. It requires the ability to walk backwards. Holding the door open while blocking the entrance with your body puts the recipient of your politeness in an uncomfortably awkward position. Apparently this is not obvious. Since alleviating discomfort is the primary object of good manners, clearly there is much work to be done here.

I find it fascinating to see how often a simple thing that I take for granted becomes so complicated when teaching it to someone else. I think if you break it down into very small steps it can become less of a pointless thing you do "just because you are supposed to" and more of a thing with a purpose you can understand.

Case in point: My dear husband hasn't the slightest regard for setting the table. Doesn't see why it matters. (Never includes napkins.) But in my world, where tables are always properly set, your water glass is always on the right. Why? Because if it is always on the right then you always know it is on the right and therefore you always know which one is yours. This is not the rule of a properly set table to be fussy or fancy or formal. It is so you have one less thing to think about. Have you ever been with a group in a restaurant where someone is confused about which water glass is theirs? If not, then you have never been in a restaurant. Someone is always drinking your water. Or you are drinking theirs.

Here in Maine I find myself consistently impressed by how often doors are held open for me. I always make sure I do the same. A friend once posted the question of who is responsible for putting on the divider stick to separate your groceries from those of the next person's on the conveyor belt. She maintained that she always placed the one in front of her groceries, the person coming up behind her was responsible for themselves and should always do the same. Her position was supported by the majority of responses. I strongly disagree. I often place the divider in front of my groceries. And if there is one within reach I place one behind mine as well. I would say at least fifty percent of the time the person ahead of me has done this too. But I would still do it if hardly anyone did. Why? Because it is so damn easy to be nice. I heard an interview with Colin Powell —which I must track down. He was asked what he attributes his success to. Easy. Always be nicer than you have to. So simple. So lovely. Those words went deep, and stayed there. Always be nicer than you have to.

Always be nicer than you have to.

Call me madam

Just got called ma'am. Grrr. Please wait until I am covered in wrinkles.

It would be tolerable from someone under 20. A fifteen year old bag boy at Hannaford can call me ma'am. The 35 year old bagger at whole foods most certainly cannot.


Please just say have a nice day, and leave it at that.

The Noise and the Smell

I hear they are planning adult only flights. Not the naughty kind of adult flight--as far as I know--just the option for adults to enjoy relaxing on a plane without babies screaming and kids shrieking. I believe there has been some outrage--naturally-- but it sounds good to me. When I am fortunate to enjoy some adult time, the last thing I want is to hear someone else's kids making a racket. When the monkeys were babies I was constantly jumping whenever I heard a kid that sounded like one of mine. Back then it was rare to shop without them, so it was especially intrusive. (That said I still say hello to every cute little I see.)

So how about no perfume next? When are people going to stop walking around in a gagingly thick cloud of stinky chemicals that give me a headache?

Here is the personal scent rule people: Smell like anything you want, but no one, and I mean NO ONE should smell your scent unless they are close enough to hug you, or whisper in your ear. No exceptions.

What's that stuff again???

Drew, while discussing the negotiations involved in scheduling vacation days: "It requires--what's that stuff you're always into---? "Courtesy? Manners?" I reply. "Yeah, that." I am consistently astonished by the number of men who hold doors open for me every day. My husband is rarely among them.

Ready to face the enemy

Currently in location of previous elevator assault. I am armed and ready. And itching for a fight. Just try me.

Sensibility

"A gentleman is a man who can play the accordion but doesn't."

(I have to look up who said that)