Sedona to Bakersfield, A Long Day’s Drive
We made a big mistake staying in Sedona as long as we did – we want to stay longer. But we have an incentive, we are on our way to another long stay, Yosemite. I’ve never been to Yosemite – we lived just hours away, in Monterey, CA, and I wanted to see it, but we had lives, obligations, and a young child. Now – we don’t! Time for another dream to come true.
But first, there is a price to be paid. A long journey, much of it across desert.
As it turns out, it is more interesting than we thought. There are forests, there are trading posts, and wind farms. There is a little town on the Arizona – California border called Needles, where we stop for a very lackluster lunch. There are long rural roads in California full of trucks hastening to get to where they need to be.
Shortly after we arrive in California, we encounter another Security Stop:
Driving has been pretty laid back so far, but it changes as we get to California. I know nice people who live here, but the drivers we encountered were all “Me first!”
We totally missed our hotel in Bakersfield, had to stop at the airport and call to get directions. A mere seven minutes away, if you know the right way to go, LOL.
Along the way, we started getting strange extra charges for $3., $7.00 from the hotels. When we got home, AdventureMan checked. It was for these waters.
We are Elite status, and in many hotels they provide us water as a benefit. We assumed these were that kind of water, the water has a tag that says ViP water, but if you look really really closely, you will see that it is not VIP but Very (line) Pure water. I think that’s kind of cheesy. Give free water or don’t put water in the rooms. I consider this deceptive.
All in all, not such a bad day, glorious weather, interesting sights, not bad at all until arriving in Bakersfield around rush hour.
“You Can’t Talk to Me Like that, Stupid Bitch”
. . . she said, and hung up on me.
I really hate telemarketers, and I hate them most of all when they call around six, when I start making dinner. They intrude. Most of the time, I just ignore the calls, let the machine screen them. This one had a location where one of our banks is, and I answered.
“I would like to speak with (Intlxpatr)” the caller said.
“To whom am I speaking?” I responded.
“Jennifer.” She told me, and went on to tell me that my warrantee on my car was running out and I could renew it now, through her.
“Jennifer, we sold that car two years ago!” I said, at which point she said “You can’t talk to me like that, you stupid bitch!” and hung up on me.
I laughed, which I often do when caught by surprise.
My houseguest, who had heard the whole thing because I was busy with meal prep and had it on speaker-phone, was aghast.
“What are you going to do?” she asked.
I had the number. I know who she is with. I knew I could report her.
I didn’t.
Who aspires to be a telemarketer? Who, as a small child, says “I want to grow up to make phone calls to people who don’t want to talk to me and who will treat me rudely?”
I figure Jennifer has talked to a rude person or two or ten. I imagine Jennifer doesn’t have a lot of options, and telemarketing is what she has to do to earn a living. My guess is that Jennifer has some difficulties with judgement and self-discipline. I don’t think I need to add any more to her plate; she sounds like she has had enough.
Recent Comments
Wikipedia Donate Button
Amazina
Early Voting in Florida
Here There and Everywhere 