Today's roundup of "I shoulda stayed underground" news, courtesy the NY Post:
1. MORE glass is falling from the skies, this time on Broadway and 42nd; an entire window falls 40 stories and -- luckily -- lands on scaffolding; no one is injured, but, hello? Inspectors?
2. Out of control cabbie two blocks away, Broadway and 44th, runs a red light, goes up on sidewalk, "scattering terrified tourists." (several people injured).
3. Lastly, a 20-foot tree falls on and critically injures a Queens woman as she's walking by.
Like I said, not a good day to be walking around outside, I guess.
None of the Post headlines were worth sharing today; I guess the Sunday news crew isn't as creative.
I'm in a cranky mood, meanwhile. I'm doing good on my daily commute; no worries. Even loud cell-phone guy next to me on bus did not get to me. As I wrote this morning, I'm letting it go, letting all flow over me.
But earlier, my serenity was threatened by a bizarre encounter with a Verizon store salesman. I wanted a new phone, and/or a new cell phone plan with more options. I was ready to pay more, up to double what I'm paying now, although of course not going into this blindly -- wanted to make sure exactly what my options were on Blackberries or similar phones. The Blackberry costs about $170 but you get back $70 on a mail-in rebate -- hah! I'm still waiting for my Wirefly/Inphonic rebates on the cell phone I bought in 2006. (a blog for another day, I suppose).
Back to my point: You'd think the salesman would pay attention and try to make the sale. Instead, he's looking everywhere but at me. The minute we start talking, his eyes are looking elsewhere. He's looking over my shoulder, around the room, all over
but at me. It's very disconcerting, and right off the bat I lose my concentration. I had specific questions to ask him and all I can think is, "This guy does not want to be here. Why should I trust him ? Why should I buy from him?"
I ask him more questions about the phone itself, and he is dismissive, tells me it comes with an operations manual and there is tech support available. Finally I look at him and tell the truth: "Look, this is awkward. You've been looking over my shoulder the whole time we've been talking." He denies it. I say, "Well, you were." He asks if I would like to speak with another salesperson. I say, "Yes, I would." He tells me I have to go to the front, where there's a kiosk that I must sign in at, and then wait for the next available salesperson. I say, "Uh, no, that's okay," and I walk out.
Did I ever write about how much I hate shopping, and how much I distrust salespeople, especially at electronic stores?