Bitch blog

I'm usually quite cheerful, but I'm having a bout of PMS, so sue me for my bitchy attitude, okay?

I'm currently annoyed because:
1-I'm going away with my hubby tomorrow and I have yet to pack. This is very unlike me. I am an anal retentive packer and usually create a spreadsheet to help guide me through the annoying process of packing. The fact that our bag is not yet packed leaves me feeling anxious and unsettled.

2-The bitch at Hale and Hearty (the soup/salad/sandwich joint I get my lunch from 4 out of 5 days of the work week) forgot to give me a fork for my salad. So I walked from Hale and Hearty to the park on Riverside Drive to eat my lunch, read my book, and enjoy the 72 degree weather (which will not be around tomorrow when I have off), only to discover that I didn't have a fork with which to eat said salad. So I had to pack everything up and walk back to my office, get a fork, and then sit inside while every other person in NYC gets to enjoy the weather but me.

3-I have way too much to do before I leave work today. It's not all going to get done. I've resigned myself to my failure, but I'm still not happy about it.

4-I'm going to miss my cats while I'm away this weekend. I know that seems trite, but there it is.

And finally,
5-I really don't understand why the men in my office insist on not putting the goddamned toilet seat down after they finish peeing (we have unisex bathrooms here). It's like they all think that their mothers work here. Mamma's got a real job honey so be a man and put the freaking seat down. You would think you wouldn't be grossed out about touching the damned thing, especially considering you had to touch it to lift it up in the first place, and I'm willing to bet my salary that you didn't wash your hands before touching your genitalia. So put the damned thing down, gross pig boy.

Bah! The bitch-fest is over. The day may proceed as scheduled.

Coach saga continued...

Coach got back to me about my purse today, and even though they sent the bag to their master repair person in New Jersey (where I could go and pick it up if I wanted to) they are sticking with their original assessment and have decided not to repair the bag. However, since I absolutely do not want that bag destroyed, they are sending me a 50 percent off coupon for my next purchase.

I've got to tell you, I'm still not happy. Why can't they just fix the purse? I really don't understand. It may not look 100 percent perfect on the inside (because they'll need to cut the lining to get to the leather and all that jazz), but at least the purse would be useable. Now I have to take the purse to get repaired on my own. I really only wanted that purse anyway. Even though I told the woman to find me another purse, I really just wanted my purse--the one that was will me through all that nonsense. I've got proof! Check it out:



See in the lower right hand corner? There's the purse. That's us in the Louie Armstrong Airport in N.O. right after Hurricane Katrina. I mean, that purse has been through a LOT with me. It's more than just a purse to me. If it had been any other purse (with the exception perhaps of the first one that Brad ever gave me), I would have taken the credit.

I'm just happy that I'm gettin my purse back. Even if I only use it occasionally, I would rather have it than not have it.

Coach update...

I just got off the phone with Snotty Bitch (a.k.a. the Coach Rep down in Jacksonville, FL) and apparently, after she tried offering me just about every freaking purse in a similar style or size that Coach had produced in the last two years, she told me that they absolutely do not have any other of the black patent leather gallery totes in that size and they would send it up to New Jersey, where their master repair person would attempt to fix it. Hello! Isn't that all I really wanted to begin with??? I just wanted my freaking purse fixed. I didn't want a new one. I wanted that exact purse--the one I sent them, the one that I dragged with me through god only knows how many dramas, the worse of them being Hurricane Katrina. I wanted my purse. It reminded me of Apple just a teensy bit--it's easier and cheaper to replace than repair, so replace whenever possible. So honestly, if that was what was going to happen, why couldn't they just spare me the drama and asked me outright from the get-go if I would rather have a new purse or if I absolutely wanted this one repaired? Because in every other case, I probably would have taken the credit, but because it was this particular purse, I wanted it repaired. It has sentimental value. I can't help it. I'm a sap like that. Well, I'm getting a phone call from the supreame bitch tomorrow to find out the outcome of the purse drama and I shall let you know what is going to happen. One way or another I'm writing Coach a very, very nasty letter.

At War with Coach

On Friday I received a letter in the mail that my beloved black patent leather gallery tote bag was received by Coach and deemed “not up to Coach standards” and that they have decided not to repair it. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! I was distraught. How could they do this to me? My all time favorite Coach purse-—not up to their standards? They won’t repair it? They’re offering me a credit for what it cost me back then??? Say it isn’t so! Oh say it isn’t so. Brad promised to call them for me on Monday and make my case. He has a golden tongue and I often say that he’d be able to sell the Pope holy water, so if anyone would be able to get some satisfaction from Coach, it would be Bradley.

Brad called me a little while ago, and needless to say, he wasn’t happy. Apparently the woman that he was talking to was a real bitch and wasn’t willing to do anything to make us happy. She also wasn’t willing to talk to Brad. So I called her back, bitch that she was, and the snotty bitch came up with three options—she’d send it back to us and if we could get it repaired, then Coach would foot the bill for the repairs (as though I’d want anyone besides them to work on it—come on now. Why else would I have mailed it to them?), I could accept the freaking credit for exactly the amount that the bag was worth two years ago (hello—the bag was $400 back then—and it was a limited edition tote bag. All their limited edition stuff in that size is now $600 and more—why would I accept a credit if I can’t get something comparable? It needs to be in leather, not that canvas or nylon bullshit, and the same approximate size), or they could send me the bag back and they could give me half off on another purse (still not acceptable—why do I have to fork money over for their poor workmanship?). I told the snotty bitch (because she really was snotty) that she could only make me happy two ways: 1-Find another purse. I don’t care how she finds it, where she finds it, or who she has to kill, but find one, and find it fast. Coach is notorious for saving stock of all of their purses for just these occasions. I told her that I simply refuse to believe that there is not another purse in existence somewhere in the world. There is—she needs to make it her business to get it and then get it to me. 2-Issue me a credit for the amount of the purse, along with 25 percent off (and they can be used together) so I may get a purse of equal value to replace the one that is going to be destroyed.

I think that I’m being pretty darn reasonable if you ask me. And considering the snotty bitch gave me bs excuses like “Well I haven’t had much time to work on this yet,” and “I am the supervisor on the floor right now” and “I’m sorry, but I can’t repair the purse even though I know that is what you really want,” she’s lucky I don’t fly down to Florida and rip her throat out with my bare hands. Not for nothing, but I spend a sick amount of money at Coach every year. I buy, on average, 4 to 5 purses there per year. Not to mention the scarves, gloves, key chains, and presents that I buy for other people. The least they could do is make a very good customer happy. All I have to say is that if they don’t, this will be the last time I ever deal with them, and Gucci and Kate Spade are going to be very, very happy.