on the New England disposition
My one preserving beacon of hope for living in this friendless and logistically-complicated state was my shiny emerald-green Schwinn Suburban. I bought it from a kindly old lady on my first day in CT, and dropped it off at a local bike store to be serviced. Never have I dealt with a cuter or less friendly attendant.
Never mind him, I decided; it's worth putting up with assholes to get what I desire. I called back in a couple weeks (on the date stamped on my claim ticket). No, the bike isn't ready! We've been really busy? (Well, I've been busy, too.) Well then! You'd understand! *click.*
They called me back yesterday. Would I please come pick up my bike. It's taking up space. No room for the other bikes.
(Well, guys, that's what I've been trying to do for three weeks)
When I got to the shop, about three dudes greeted me heartily and cheerfully. Yes, here's your bike! One of them introduced himself to me, said he thought he'd talked to me on the phone before and been an asshole. He was very sorry about this. When I was checking out, one of them asked me if I was from around here. No, I wasn't. They could tell---that's a good thing! they reassured me. Why is that? New England people have this ... mistaken sense of entitlement.
I'm sure they were in love with me because I didn't make a fuss, even though my bike was late. I am sure everyone they deal with makes a huge fuss; this is probably why the guys were so short-tempered before.
During the first couple weeks here, I tried to overcome my vulnerable nature by being more assertive about my space and my "rights." I felt that the only way I'd get anything done, and avoid tears, was to act like I owned the fucking place. Now, I have renewed confidance that a cheerful and accomodating attitude is actually what wins people over and gets things done. I think that deep down, everyone is sympathetic to this. I just have to not get discouraged in the meantime :-)
Never mind him, I decided; it's worth putting up with assholes to get what I desire. I called back in a couple weeks (on the date stamped on my claim ticket). No, the bike isn't ready! We've been really busy? (Well, I've been busy, too.) Well then! You'd understand! *click.*
They called me back yesterday. Would I please come pick up my bike. It's taking up space. No room for the other bikes.
(Well, guys, that's what I've been trying to do for three weeks)
When I got to the shop, about three dudes greeted me heartily and cheerfully. Yes, here's your bike! One of them introduced himself to me, said he thought he'd talked to me on the phone before and been an asshole. He was very sorry about this. When I was checking out, one of them asked me if I was from around here. No, I wasn't. They could tell---that's a good thing! they reassured me. Why is that? New England people have this ... mistaken sense of entitlement.
I'm sure they were in love with me because I didn't make a fuss, even though my bike was late. I am sure everyone they deal with makes a huge fuss; this is probably why the guys were so short-tempered before.
During the first couple weeks here, I tried to overcome my vulnerable nature by being more assertive about my space and my "rights." I felt that the only way I'd get anything done, and avoid tears, was to act like I owned the fucking place. Now, I have renewed confidance that a cheerful and accomodating attitude is actually what wins people over and gets things done. I think that deep down, everyone is sympathetic to this. I just have to not get discouraged in the meantime :-)