In my heated frustration with C.C. the other day, I wrote the post you see below here, looking for another form of E-mail template to use.
That wasn’t the end of the story.
The story goes after that I took a slug of water, walked the small dog and then sat down again to figure it out. I was having difficulty uploading an image. First it loaded two of them. Then it looked all wonky and had strange borders. When I tried to de-upload one of the images, it told me my mother sucked cocks in hell which was horrible.
But again, after the chaser of water and delightful walk with the pup, I was able to sit down with a clearer, calmer head. I successfully uploaded the image and carrie on with the rest of the E-mail’s creation. Look for it in your inbox within the next two days.
Here’s where it got a little weird. After signing up for C.C.’s sixty-day free trial membership, I received an E-mail welcoming me. Nothing strange about that. It’s de rigueur for any Internet service. But two hours after I joined, I received a phone call from a number I didn’t recognize so I rejected it, de rigueur for any cell phone user receiving a call from an unknown number. Listening to the voicemail from that number after, I discover it was Bridgette…from C.C. welcoming me to the service and leaving me her direct number were I to have any questions for her about it. Anything at all.
“Wow!”, I thought. “You don’t get that from PayPal. But India would be a long distance call, I guess.” I saved the number in case I did feel like giving Bridgette a call about anything…at all.
Cut to the part where I started getting frustrated. I was running out of time in my day that I could devote to the C.C. project. All I had left was five minutes before I had to jump in a car bound for Hartford. Was I going to call Bridgette to talk her through my trouble or vent about it here? Of course, the latter. It was going to take a lot less time and give me more immediate satisfaction.
Cue John Carpenter Halloween theme music.
During rehearsal later that afternoon, another voicemail was left on my phone.
“Hello, Kelsey, this is Desiree from C.C. We discovered you’re having trouble with our service and we’d like to rectify that. Please give me a call at your earliest convenience. Thanks!”
It’s interesting how quickly they went from helpful to kind of stalk-y. How’d they guess that I was having trouble? They must have those spider things that spend all day and night crawling through our internet tubes looking for references to them, huh? Is that some kind of CIA-spies-like-us technology or what? Seriously, is it?
It’s kind of spooky to me which is why I’ve spent this whole time referring to them as C.C. I don’t want them poking around seeing me reference them with my mother sucking cocks in hell and then suing me for slander. I don’t know much but I do know those spider-things probably can’t read sarcasm.
Any insight into the matter from people not from C.C. would be much appreciated.
