Community College

Ok this was not part of my planned post but when I opened up Blogger I somehow accidentally did something nifty with my mouse (its never on purpose) and this little graphic: - the one we Blogger users all know and love as our faithful spelling-fixer-upper - magicked its way down into my post. And I can't just delete it. Look how cute it is! Plus I cant figure out what I did or how I got it down here with me and thus can't replicate the effect and give my little spelling graphic any friends - so instead of being deleted off to Discard-O-Land he's coming along for the ride. I'm sure he feels very special to be the only one of his buddies that got mentioned/placed in a post. Even if I didn't intend it. I have also saved him to my picture folder soooo be sure to be on the lookout for him again. He's too adorable not to come poking back around, looking for more posts to interrupt. I think at some point we'll have to name him. Along with a few other various characters that are trying to weasel their way into my posts.

Anyways! What I really wanted to share will all of you is how much I absolutely cannot stand when I am on the phone and get put on hold/transferred to 8 or 9 various departments and end up talking to a ridiculous amount of people - none of whom seem to know the answer to my question.

I was calling down to one of the community colleges in my state, trying to figure out why I couldn't log into my little See Your School Shit On The Web If We Feel Like Letting You Today thing. Obviously today was not one of those days. I put in my little user name and request a change of password since its been AGES since I had to log in there and - lo and behold - the evil site tells me that my information doesn't match what they have. Well. Last time I checked I knew how to spell my own name. I also happen to know my birth date. (May 14 for those of you that want to send me presents! Like a Kindle! Ohmigod I would looooooooove a Kindle. Apparently you can read blogs and all kinds of fun stuff on them. Not that I expect you guys to send me one since they're like 400 dollars and....this is so not what I'm posting about right now. Damn.) I typed in my little student ID number right too. I checked. Many times! So finally I get the bright idea to call up the little student help center and after a gazillion rings some lady who is clearly not a student, and doesn't care for the breed either, answers in the most nasally voice I have ever heard.

"Yes?"

Yea - no "Student Help Center this is *insert creepy name here*" Just a "yes?" Great way to start off.

"Um for some reason I cant seem to log into your website. I have all my information and I've tried it several times so I know I'm putting it in right. It says it doesn't match what's in your records. Is there any way you can tell me what information you guys have so I can get it changed?

"Well are you putting it all in there right?

.... Uh...did I NOT JUST SAY THAT?! "Yes. I'm doing it right" (*side note: This is where Crayon would say "That's What She Said!" and get this cute smug look on his ridiculously handsome face.)

"Well I guess something don't match what our Data Center has on ya"

Lady. I just said that. Without a Utahan accent that could make birds fly into walls.

"Yes I'm positive that everything I've entered is correct."

"Well I'ma transfer you to the Data Center now."

"Great. Thanks" *terribly 1990's hold music ensues - please god let me avoid hearing "Holiday" by Madonna ever again*

"Data Center" Wow. A greeting. Must be a normal guy.

"Hi I was having trouble logging into the web page and-"

"OhyouneedtheStudentHelpCenterforthatI'lltransferyou!" I can hardly understand what the dude said because he was in such a rush to spit out his words and get me off the phone that his tongue has probably collapsed like a fat cat on a windowsill after spending too much effort chasing the neighbors canary bird. Had the guy even listened to me he would have known that NO - I do not need the Student Help Center or Ms. Utah Nasal back there who is probably sitting at her desk eating pork rinds while laughing about me, the poor girl who will surely never find her way out of this tangled maze of phone tag.

"Yeeeeeesssssss" She draws it out in this annoyed tone of voice. God forbid we have to answer the phone TWICE in an hour.

"Hi - look its me again, the Data Center transferred me back here. I really need to get that information changed so I can log in to the website."

"Oh. Well how come you didn't say so? I haaave a computer."

Wow. Is that what that big square thing sitting on your desk is? Thank you Nancy Drew now I can return to my life with the piece of mind that somewhere in the world there is a person with the deductive abilities to realize that she, like every other office worker on the planet, has a computer available to use at her disposal. This is the part where I seriously considered reaching through the phone and strangling this woman.

"Lovely." (Which is code in my language for "You stupid stupid person.") "So can we change that then?" I give her all my info, wondering if this woman is smart enough to attempt Identity Theft.

*long awkward pause*

"Um hello?" There is no way this lady hung up on me. So help me god I will drive down to Salt Lake and raise hell in the Student Help Center if I must.

"I'm getting it, hold on." Yea - as if she's the one who should be impatient.

"Well it looks like they didn't have your Social Security number so they made one up for ya and that's why you cant log in. So you WEREN'T puttin' all your stuff in right."

"I'm sorry, hold on. They made up a Social Security number for me? They just made one up?"

"That's our policy"

"Your policy is to make up peoples information if you don't have it? Right ok. Well can you give it to me so I can try logging in with that number."

"I'm sorry I cant give out Social Security numbers over the phone." You have got to be kidding me.

"It's not real! It's not a social - its just made up numbers!" I say in disbelief. "Well can I change it and put mine in there instead?"

"No you have to come do that here in person. I don't do that over the phone." (*Another "That's What She Said" for Crayon)

"Well then how am I supposed to get into my account?"

"Here I'll give you the number." Uh - ok? Did we not just establish that we cant do that? I want to say something snotty but instead I remain quiet in case this lady's bipolar memory starts coming back. She gives me my little number and I hang up, thanking her for some unknown reason, to which she promptly slams the phone down on the receiver, as if I'm some sort of huge inconvenience to her. All this for the sake of viewing my transcripts.

I type my little number in, wait patiently for it to load...and....YES! IGOTONTHESTUPIDWEBSITE-NEENERNEENERNEENER!

Only to find out there's a hold on my account which: prevents me from viewing my transcripts.

So now I have to call the Accounts Department, which I promptly do. Only to find out that Monotone Brittany only works from 9-4. It's currently 3:15. Apparently, since I keep getting nothing but her voicemail - leading me to believe she's gone home an hour early, the entire community college is a magnet for incompetence and anti-work syndrome.

I may have to burn it to the ground. If only to improve the gene pool by doing so.

This is why I'm a writer. So that I don't have to deal with the massive amount of insane people that occupy this state on a daily basis.

Alright. Off to go call them again. *Hums "Holiday"*