Blue jeans, a new phone, and a clean, fluffy dog

 

Freedom!

Yesterday, Ivy had an an appointment for a “fluff and buff” with her personal groomer, April, the owner of Spa 4 Paws. This was the second time I’ve driven, but the first time I put jeans on. I was using warm up pants, as I had a vicious blister from the bandage over my surgery site that when discovered, and tape removed, erupted like Mount Vesuvius. It was so gnarly looking, I went to the ER thinking it was an ulcer, MRSA, or flesh-eating monsters. Being able to wear jeans is wonderful! I have pockets, comfort, and don’t look or feel like a patient from the hip lagoon.

I live geographically the farthest away from the spa the drive it is worth it. April is the best at grooming doodles, and she is the only one in town who still does cats. Poor Frank is due for a grooming, but I can’t manage a cat carrier now with an 18# Mr. Kitty inside), I decided to do some banking, and go to Verizon while Ivy was relaxing with a chai and the morning paper while she was having a mani-pedi. I keep my phone in my left back pocket. When I hit the deck on the 27th of last month, the phone looked cracked, and people told me they couldn’t hear me well.

These phone contracts last for two years. The last time I bought a new phone was in 2014, so I was overdue. Why can’t Verizon, who puts our a lot of junk email just tell me it was time for a new phone? I chose an iPhone 8, a plain cover, a cover for the face of the phone, and bundled with a new type of charger that stays plugged in. Sell, sell, sell, that’s all they do at Verizon. When you get home, you just put the phone on top of it and it charges. Cool. I looked this morning at the phone, and it was still only half charged. Then I realized it was upside down. Oops!

The stores no longer set your phone up for you, so you have to go into the abyss of the    1-800 numbers. The young man at the store, yes, another Skippy, gave me the number of a place that keeps offering you deals. So I went to the black hole of  411, and got a real operator, who gave me the correct number.

A nice woman at Verizon helped me set the phone up-1.5 hours. The phone is sitting on the charging pad, now charging properly.

The Verizon store, which moved from its old location to the new, refurbished and still empty mall, is still a snake pit of people who don’t care. I got there when employees were coming in. Because I am on crutches, I asked if I could come in and sit down. “Oh no, that would violate our security policies.” Like I’m going to steal something chained to the wall and run away with orthopedic hardware flying away. So I stood in the wind until the store opened, 10 minutes later. I asked for some water, and was told there was a fountain in the back of the store. “Do you have any cups to bring me some water?” “Oh no, we don’t.” Hey lady! Go to Costco and buy nine million cups for a buck and give the temporarily handicapped some water.

When I escaped the dungeons of Verizon, I figured Ivy would be ready to be picked up. My old cell was disabled except for 911, so the spa couldn’t call me. Ivy was ready, a shampoo-smelling, clean and fluffy dog. April was proud that she had a bandana that matched the colors of my dog.

We got home, and Ivy went to sleep, and I had lunch after the Incredibly Long Phone Call to Set Up the Phone. I figured I deserved some reading time, so I started Joe Biden’s new book, Promise Me, Dad. It’s a good read. A normal day for a person who is not normal at the moment.

 

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