Bitchy McBitcherson's Blog

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  • Sonic Drive-In – Tiresome Useless “Apology”

    District Manager Joe called and left me a message. He would like me to call back.  I don’t know that I will, because I really have nothing to gain from calling back.

    He sort of apologized. He said the words “I apologize,” however the content of the apology was basically a non-apology.

    He agrees they were incorrect to not give me the deal, but basically still thinks I was wrong to expect it.

    Now, admittedly this is from a message and perhaps if I spoke to him directly and poked at the nature of what he is saying, we’d get to a different place, but really?  Should I have to work that hard to get a genuine apology for daring to expect them to honor the sale that the sign said they had?

    Manager Tim lied to Joe.  Now, I am not saying he deliberately lied in order to cover something up.  Maybe he did, maybe he didn’t.  However, assuming that what DM Joe said is true, the manager did tell him something that was not the truth.

    The manager told the district manager that they’ve given me this deal before.  So their feeling is, they had already told me that it wasn’t a valid deal, so I was in the wrong for asking for it again.

    This is NOT TRUE, plain and simple.  I’ve never had any sort of argument with them over this deal in the past, and I’ve never been granted an exception to the deal, nor anything else of the sort.  Even if I had, THEY HAD A SIGN UP!  If somebody who looked like me told them about the sign in the past, wouldn’t they have taken it down then?!

    But no, they still seem to think it has nothing to do with the sign, and they don’t need to honor posted signs.

    They think it is a Happy Hour issue.

    Sonic Drive-In offers a Happy Hour special during the dead time between lunch and dinner, much like many other restaurants.  Sonic’s special is all drinks are half price during Happy Hour, but NO ICE CREAM drinks are included.  It says this on the sign that advertises Happy Hour.  I know this.  I have never ordered an ice cream based drink during Happy Hour expecting half price on it, because ice cream drinks are not included.  So, no, I have never ordered one in the past by mistake, and then argued with them to give me the drink at half price.  I can read.  I can read the signs and see that ice cream drinks are not included, and if I wanted an ice cream drink (and if I do want an ice cream drink, I get the Chiller, not the Cream Slush), I would expect to pay full price for it, because it is not part of Happy Hour.

    I ordered the Cream Slush, not because it was Happy Hour and with no connection to Happy Hour.  When I drove into the lot, the first thing I saw was a sign that said “1/2 Price Cream Slush Treats All Day Real Ice Cream Real Fruit”.  It did not say, “All Day Except Happy Hour”.  It said nothing about Happy Hour. I ordered the Cream Slush because when I saw that sign, I thought, “Oh, that sounds interesting.  I’ll try that.”  I’ve never ordered the Cream Slush before at all.  My daughter has once, and she didn’t even like it, which is why even with the special, she didn’t order one.  I ordered it only because their sign advertising the special put the idea into my head.

    Anyhow, Joe would like me to call back, and he’ll give me a coupon for a free Cream Slush.  I don’t want a free Cream Slush.  Why would I trust any drink from the Sonic at 2101 American Blvd W, Minneapolis, MN?  The manager there clearly has a grudge against people who look like me.  If I was more paranoid, I’d think that it might be against people who are not white enough, but I’m instead going to assume there really is some other person running around who looks just like me and argues with them about their clearly defined Happy Hour offering.

    I guess it wasn’t about honoring or not honoring their posted advertisement for Tim.  The reason it felt like he was calling me a liar for saying that I saw it on a sign, was because he had already decided I was pulling a scam.

    But you know what?  Let’s pretend I am incapable of reading (not true).  Let’s pretend I had made a mistaken order in the past, and then wouldn’t back down when they showed me the spot on the Happy Hour sign that says “no ice cream drinks” (not true, at all, I would have been embarrassed and agreed it was my mistake).  Let’s pretend I got them to make a one time only exception to the Happy Hour special in the past to give me an ice cream drink at half price (never happened).  Even if all that happened, I’d still be absolutely right to think that seeing a sign that said “1/2 Price Cream Slush Treats All Day Real Ice Cream Real Fruit” meant that Cream Slush Treats were 1/2 Price that day.

    BTW, if you are local, the nearby Culver’s does offer a Happy Hour special on their ice cream treat – Concrete Mixer 2 for 1, or at least they did that day.  Also, most of the Dairy Queens around here seem to offer all drinks, including ice cream ones, for 1/2 price during Happy Hour.  Not that this issue was about Happy Hour at all, but since Sonic thinks it is, I might as well help you find some alternatives to their Happy Hour.

    Personally, I’d rather happy hour with a nice cocktail.  Here are some options for that too.

  • Bearing My Heart

    So, here’s where I tell you I kind of lied in my previous post.

    Although, there is also a strong argument for it just proving my point.

    Yesterday two of our fosters went to their forever homes.

    Laney went off to live with a young couple and two cats. She was doing great, making advances on her housebreaking. She was learning important simple commands like ‘sit’, ‘down’, ‘drop it’, ‘go potty’, and ‘stay’. It was time for her to find her family and go to them and settle in, before she got more settled in here. Such a good, smart, rambunctious, girl.

    Bear also went to his home.

    Now, here’s the thing. I love Bear. I’m crazy about him. It is totally different than how I feel about any of the other fosters. We clicked. He could have stayed forever. When he put his giant fuzzy paw on my leg to ask for attention, I felt at peace.

    So, why not keep him?

    I’m doing this for the dogs. I’m not claiming it is altruistic. I do it because I choose to, because I get something positive out of it, but my goal is about making things better for the dogs.

    We currently have a GSD/Husky mix that will turn 16 years old this summer. We also have two cats who turn 12 this summer. When we brought these animals home, we had a very young child who would be part of the household for many years. We also lived in a house we owned, and had every expectation to be in that situation long term.

    Things are very different now. Our kid is now in high school. Maybe she’ll be with us all through college, or maybe she is gone in a couple of years. We live in a house we rent, in a state we don’t have roots in. When I try to look five years into the future, I cannot see a single damn thing through the fog. We’re here because work brought us here, and work could send us elsewhere. I don’t feel in a good strong stable place to make a 15+ year commitment to a pet. Because of this, I am not looking for a pet.

    Yet, Bear came into my life and the idea of him leaving it made me feel sad. It made me feel a loss.

    These people came to meet him. They have a small farm. They have land they are settled on long term. They have roots. They have cows and alpaca. They have a couple of other dogs on the property. They’ll let Bear on the furniture. They were searching for a Chow or Chow mix. They’ve had them in the past. They know they are strong and stubborn. The most recent one died a while back, and there was a long period of mourning when they were not ready for a new dog. When they decided they were ready for a new dog, they searched and found Bear’s photo and they wanted to know more about him and meet him.

    Of course, once they met him, they wanted him. Who could not want him? He is wonderful.

    They both wanted him, AND they wanted a new pet. They were looking to take on that commitment again, to care for a dog for his or her entire life. The rescue makes people fill out detailed applications. They ask them a lot of questions to get a feel for the kind of owners they will be. They go do a home visit and make sure that things are as described in the application, so I know the farm and the lifestyle aren’t just a made up story.

    To me, all that trumped me just loving having Bear around. I don’t know what I have to offer, really. Do we end up back in California? That was brought up as a serious possibility in the summer of 2010. Back in California with a tiny yard and no room to run around? He’s not really a dog park kind of dog, because of his history. Yes, I’d work to get him stable enough for such things, but there is no guaranty. Plus, I’m unsure that we would ever reach a place where he’d be reliable alone around Xander. He was fine about Willow, and great about the clinic cat, but kind of a dick to Xander. Bear crazy loves playing in the snow, is just filled with joy at it. Do I take him and his gigantic, heavy fur coat to 100+ degree days? Yes.  I could do that. It would be okay. People in Southern California have big super furry dogs who don’t get a chance to run free on an acre and never play in the snow. I know. We lived there and had two dogs like that. It’s doable, and the dogs were happy. He’d have been happy and cared for with us, I’d have made sure of it.

    But, I just believe that he’d be overall happier on a farm with people who actively were looking to adopt a dog. With people who had other dogs for him to play with. He so totally loved playing with Laney. I knew that even if I kept him, I certainly wouldn’t be looking for ANOTHER dog. I really hope he is as happy there as I believe he will be. I hope that I am right and they are a better family for him than we are.

    Emotionally, I wanted to keep him, but logically, it wasn’t the right thing to do. So, yesterday we said goodbye. I cried. I hugged him tight and told him that if he got too lonely for us, he could eat an alpaca, and they’d probably send him back.

    And today, I am crying as I type this. I miss him. He is a very good dog. But, Xander is happy. I think Bear is happy too.

    <3 Bear

  • Sonic Sign

    Somebody asked for a better view of the sign.

     

  • Sonic Drive-In – False Advertising with Bad Customer Service on the Side

    Today my daughter asked to go to Sonic Drive-In to get one of their drinks.  I don’t eat a lot of fast food, but I do admit to really enjoying Sonic’s drinks. Most places, even if they do offer some kind of lemon or lime flavored treat, it is horribly sweet.  Sonic gets it right, and the lime slush as a real pucker factor to it.
    We’d been having a nice day, and it seemed like a treat like that might be nice.  The closest Sonic isn’t super convenient.  There are certainly plenty of other places closer, but we drove the 10 miles to Sonic Drive In.

    As we pulled into the lot, we saw a sign that said “1/2 Price Cream Slush Treats All Day Real Ice Cream Real Fruit”.  Bonus!  We think that sounds great.   Tempted by the sale, two of us decide to order those.

    We pull up to the drive-thru speaker, and order a medium Lemon Berry Slush, a small Lime Cream Slush, and a small Lemon Berry Cream Slush.  I see the orders coming up on the information screen (how great is the info screen in drive-thrus?) and the Cream Slush drinks are listed as the normal price, so I ask,

    Me: Aren’t the Cream Slushes supposed to be half price?

    Speaker: No, those aren’t part of the special.

    Me: But there is a sign that says they are half price all day.

    Speaker: It says nothing with ice cream.

    Me: No, it says the Cream Slush specifically, with ice cream.

    Speaker: Hold on.

    The speaker clicks off and we wait.  Finally…

    Speaker: Okay. So, that was a medium Lemon Berry Slush, a small Lime Cream Slush, and what was the other one?

    Me: A small Lemon Berry Cream Slush.

    Speaker: Okay, pull forward to the window.

    The info screen still showed full price, but I assumed they’d handle it at the window, especially since they hadn’t given a total.  We wait through a couple of other cars getting their orders, and then pull up to the window.  Tim is at the window.  Well, maybe it isn’t Tim, but that is what his name tag asys.

    Tim: Okay, a Lemon Berry Slush, a Lime Cream Slush and a Lemon Berry, wait, no, that’s right, a Lemon Berry Slush, that will be $5.16

    Me: The Cream Slushes should be half price.

    Tim: No they aren’t.

    Me: There is a sign that says the Cream Slush is half price all day.

    Tim: No, there isn’t.

    Me: Yes, there is.  That’s why we ordered them.

    Tim: No, there isn’t. Where is the sign?

    Me: Right at the front, where we drove in.  Do you want me to go take a picture of it to show to you?

    Tim: No, I’ll meet you there.

    I drive over in front of the sign and wait, and Tim exits the Sonic and comes over and looks at the sign.

    Tim: Oh, no.  That’s a mistake.  I’ll take it down.

    Me: But, you’ll give me the advertised price on the drinks?

    Tim: No, I can’t honor that price.

    Me: But, the sign says it is half price.

    Tim: I already said I’ll take it down.

    Me: But, it was up when I ordered.

    Tim: I can’t give you that price.  That special ended two months ago!  I’ll take the sign down.

    I asked him for the corporate headquarters phone number, and he gave me the phone number of Joe, who he said was the district manager.  Joe did not answer his phone.  He took the sign down and threw it in the garbage can.  I called 1-866-OK-SONIC, which is the number listed on their menus.  They said that they don’t help resolve problems, so there was nothing they could do but file a complaint and have it sent to store management.

    I was sitting at Sonic, unable to get the drinks I ordered at the advertised price, even though I proved that I wasn’t lying after Tim told me I was.  Somehow it was my problem that they left the wrong sign up at the entrance to their lot for two months, and rather than give me the discount being advertised on their own sign, they would prefer to alienate a customer.

    We left and went to Culver’s.  They honored the special showing on their sign, without any discussion at all. Apparently they are better at keeping their signs up to date, and sticking to what they advertise.

    So, just be careful when you go to Sonic.  Never trust that they will honor anything they are advertising. Double check what you are paying.  Or better yet, skip it.  It isn’t like it is health food.

    I took a photo of Tim and the sign.  Well, not Tim’s face, but of his name tag.  I only had a cell phone camera that doesn’t take the greatest photos, so it is a little difficult to read the sign.  That’s why I grabbed the sign out of the garbage can too.  It very clearly states that the drinks I ordered were supposed to be half price.  Now it can hang on my daughter’s wall as a reminder of why we don’t go to Sonic anymore.  I don’t care how good their drinks taste on a hot day.

    Tim Hates Me
    Sonic customer service expert, Tim, refusing to honor the sign posted behind him

  • Things Come and Go

    People are generally supportive and nice about the fact I foster dogs. Some people clearly just think I am some sort of nutty dog person, or a hoarder, but most make positive comments. They talk about how nice I must be. They say they couldn’t do it, couldn’t bring a dog in and then let it go. That I must be a special (I suspect they mean short bus) kind of person.

    It’s interesting, because it seems to me that the reason I can do it, might well be that I am not particularly nice or warm-hearted. They are not my dogs. They are fosters. I am goal oriented. They are supposed to find homes, so when they do, I feel I have achieved my goal.

    I’m not saying I have zero feelings for them.  I enjoy them.  I snuggle them and train them. I try to teach them to trust people (some of them don’t when they get here). I want them to feel safe and loved and comfortable. I want them to be better pets at the end of their stay with us, than they are at the beginning, so that they are more adoptable. That requires time and attention, and I give them both.

    Like, Laney, the puppy right now. She takes a lot of time and attention. I could just feed her and keep her healthy and prevent her from tearing up the house. It makes more sense to put in a little extra time and start her on some basic training.  She is a lot of work, but I enjoy her, and I will miss her when she goes.  I’ll also be very happy whens she goes.  I hope her family raises her to be the dog that fits in just right with their family, and they are all very happy together for her entire life.  I’ll be very glad to sleep in a little, and get up and go get coffee before I have to stumble outside in the freezing cold so the puppy can go to the bathroom.

    So, perhaps, for me, being good at fostering is more about having some sort of emotional defect.  Now, before you go thinking that is your cue to tell me how nice I am, this is not a plea for validation.  Also, I am not saying that everybody who fosters animals has an emotional defect.  I’m just musing upon my own aptitudes and incapacities.

    In other very tangentially related news, tonight I had lamb tartare for the first time.  Why?  I don’t know.  Let me be clear, I don’t mean why did I try it, I mean, why the fuck didn’t somebody serve me that before?  I did develop an intense, but one sided, emotional bond with it, but then I ate it all, and the relationship was over.

  • Curious

    The other day I read a blog post inspired by the question “what you’d like to experience if you were the opposite gender for a day“. I read those words and immediately had an answer, or more of a non-answer.

    There is nothing I specifically want to do as a man. I don’t want to be me, with my whole history, simply transformed into a male body for the day. I don’t find that idea intriguing to me at all. I’m sure if it happened, it would be interesting, but it just isn’t an idea that I find particularly fascinating.

    However, I’d absolutely be interested in waking up one day as a man, who had whole history of being male, and spending that day just doing whatever that man’s regular routine was, wherever the path of being male had led me to, and then still carrying that memory of what it felt like to be a male me, back as regular female me again.

    I am deeply interested in what it would be like to have lived a lifetime never having had anybody stare at my tits, or make comments about them. I’d like to know what it feels like to walk down a street when I’ve never had vans pull up beside me and ominously slide open the door. When I’d never heard people inside a car, shouting, wanting a fuck, and making it clear that my wanting or lack of wanting, was of no concern to them.

    I’m totally intrigued by what it would be like to not carry around the suffocating weight of thousands of vague and not so vague reminders that more than half the population is physically stronger than me – that reminder that only vigilance and willingness to do battle gives me some hope of maintaining my personal space at more than their whim.

    Because, I really don’t know. I don’t know who I would be if I wasn’t a woman. I don’t know if the constant suspicion and wariness I feel is just my inherent personality, or if it is because of all I have experienced as a female human. All of the looks, the words, the “compliments” I “should” feel “flattered” by, and all the cruel words spoken when I was “less” of a “woman” than I “should be“, that have made me loathe almost all references to my physical appearance.

    Would I hit on a woman at a party, unaware that I was standing too close for her comfort, and be totally baffled and even indignant when she politely declined?

    Would regular female me be more comfortable and confident in my own skin the next day, or would I carry the same fears along with a new heaping dose of resentment?

    I am curious.

  • Looking Back on 2010 – Bear

    Bear moved in with us on December 31st, 2010, making him our New Year’s Eve foster, and the 8th foster dog we took in during our first year of fostering.

    We actually met Bear on December 18th, his first day with the rescue.  He was badly injured, and they were doing his initial assessment and treatment at the vet clinic when I stopped by to get Laney and Corbin a check up.  The vet told me she had just been working on a chow mix who was a real mess.  Once the puppies had been looked at, I asked to meet the chow.  We went back to meet him.  He was a sad sight, but what a face.  I said, “Look at his bear face!” and was told, “They told me his name, but it was unpronounceable, and I took one look at him and put ‘Bear’ on the records.”

    A couple of days later when I saw V over some puppy matters, she told me that she hoped we would foster Bear after the puppies had been adopted.

    After Corbin left, I agreed to just try having Bear here for the holiday weekend, so he wasn’t stuck in the clinic.  If it worked, we’d just foster him, if it was too much trouble, we would wait until Laney was adopted.  It was too much trouble, but it always is the first day.  He is still here with us now too.

    bear.

  • Looking Back on 2010 – Laney

    I considered not doing a 2010 post about Laney, since she is still with me, however, she was part of the 2010 foster parade, so here goes. Tori Laney arrived with Corbin.  She was 3.3 lbs and had short stubby little legs and a short stubby little tail, and a round sausage-y belly.

    laney.

    Seriously, how has she not been adopted yet?

    Two words: Wild Child

    This little girl has attitude. She has energy. She wants adventure and to play with the big boys. She can walk a mile in weather than some grown dogs turn around and walk back inside from. She might be small, but she is no prissy sensitive little purse dog. She went on a date to a possible home to meet the resident Rhodesian Ridgeback, a dog breed used for hunting lions. Laney was too much of a PITA for the lion hunter to deal with. “Hi! Hi! We should be friends! Let me chew on your face! Let me bite at your foot! Let me grab your tail! Hi! Let’s go eat a lion! I get the ears!”

    So, Corbin got a home, and Laney stayed with us. She was lonely when Corbin left, but before the end of 2010, Bear came to stay with us. Laney loves Bear.

    I have tons more to say about her, but that would not be 2010 stuff.

    Here is her petfinder listing.

  • What’s in a name?

    That which we call a dog, by any other name would still pee on my carpet.

    So, all these foster dogs have names. They have to have a name. They need to go into the rescue records with a name. The vet records need a name. Treatment and medication go to a specific animal by name. Of course, the dogs cannot tell us what their before name was, so they are just given a name.

    When Betty came to us, it was pretty clear she had no idea who the fuck “Betty” was. I spent an significant chunk of time just shouting random names at her to see if anything got a reaction, but nothing did. I felt mildly stupid calling out a name to a grown dog, and not having it show any sign of recognition at all. It just feels much stranger than it does with a young puppy. I imagined after about a month the dog thinking, “Oh wait, are you talking to ME? WTF, lady? This would have been a lot easier if you’d just said my name. Nonsensical human.”

    The absurdity of it all really hit home the first time I took her to the dog park. We let her off leash and I realized I had no way to ever get her back, other than attempt to catch her eye and make it look like it would be a lot of fun to come over and see me. This was a giant dog park too, with forest and hiking trails, not just a rectangle of dying grass.

    The little black puppy who came out of the crate first was named Tori. Umm… No. That didn’t work for me. She came that way from the original organization that took in the litter and split it up between rescues. I told V that we’d need to change that. So, our family picked the name Laney, and V changed it in the rescue records. She knows her name now, but I assume the person who adopts her will change it.  Actually, even more bizarre, the original organization first handed off two girl puppies to our rescue, and we expected to get those, but then they came back and switched out one of the girls for Corbin.  The other girl puppy?  She had been given the same name as my daughter.

    Betty was renamed Sammi by her family. I assume by now they can call her back in a dog park no problem. I don’t know what any of the others have been renamed. I know Ellie kept her name, which was definitely path of least resistance since she’d had it for so long she figured out we were talking about her.

  • Looking Back on 2010 – Corbin

    We next agreed to take in two babies. Estimated at 6 weeks old, maybe a little less, and less than 4 pounds. I’ve never had extended contact with puppies that young. I’ve never brought home a dog for myself at younger than 12 weeks.

    This was also the first time I agreed to take in two fosters at once. Of course, with puppies this young, two is easier than one, but puppies are a lot more time consuming than dogs.

    V showed up late at night carrying a crate. My husband was still at work (of course). V set down the crate and opened it and my daughter and I sat on the floor waiting…

    First out was a trembling little black puppy, we’ll get back to that one later. Second to appear, was a little black and tan puppy. My daughter was squealing over the tiny black puppy, but my heart skipped a beat when I saw the little tan puppy. It was clear that we’d each have our favorite. The mother was a rat terrier mix and the father was a small shepherd mix. There were 8 puppies total in the litter, which were divided up in pairs to different rescue organizations because nobody could take in all 8.

    The black and tan puppy was named Corbin. He took after the father more. He was bigger than his sister in body length and height. He was probably bigger around too, but she certainly was more sausage-y looking. So cute. Then he peed on my rug. Oh well. Still cute.

    V gave us the feeding instructions and went on her way, and left of with the two tiny babies, and we started to get to know each other.

    Corbin was the more laid back, snuggly, and cautious one. He was sweet and patient with his sister. He was very people focused. He was also growing faster. Some days, it seemed like he got noticeably bigger in one day.

    After about a week, a couple came over to meet Corbin. They said very nice things about him, but I did not feel a spark. I told V that I didn’t think they were the one. I was kind of glad too. He was the easier going of the two puppies, and while I hoped both of them would go quickly, and very close to each other, if one was going to be left behind longer, I was hoping it would be him. They were still quite young, the rescue wasn’t going to let either one leave right away.

    Then a young woman came to meet both of the puppies. She actually liked the little black one better upon meeting them. When she left I was pretty confident she’d be adopting one of them. Her life was well set up for taking care of a young puppy. She had a doggy daycare lined up for her longer work days. V arranged to go do a home inspection later in the week, and take both of the puppies with her. The woman shared a house with roommates, and they had a dog. So, it would give the rest of the household a chance to meet both puppies.

    Corbin won that round, and she decided to adopt him. While she loved the black puppy too, the other dog in the household found the calmer Corbin to be infinitely less annoying.

    I had Corbin for a few more days while she purchased her puppy needs and he got just a little bit older. Then she came to pick him up. I gave Corbin a final snuggle and sent him off with her. I’ve heard back that he is doing very well and growing like a weed. The adult dog in the house is still a bit WTF?, but all is good.

    [vimeo http://www.vimeo.com/17937175 w=400&h=300]

    Corbin from Ms Tori on Vimeo.

    He was a very sweet puppy. 🙂