Who let Meg out to play? Put her back in her cage!

Oh my. I just had a bad experience at the gym, and I came online to leave a bad review. What wound up happening was that I found my reviews on Yelp dating back to 2013. Wow, what a wild ride! 

So here’s my review for Dauenhauer Plumbers in 2013: 

So the Dauenhauer people were who I called. They came when they said they would, and my dad led them down to the basement. Apparently we had a broken pipe on our AC/furnace unit that was supposed to be routing the condensation to the drain–hence the flooded basement. I was upstairs with my dog and I heard the plumber yelling about how someone broke it on purpose. I guess that would have been me? Since I’ve been working down there for a while reorganizing?

Then the other plumber came upstairs and freaked when he saw my dog, an English Springer Spaniel. They’re not exactly the rabid wolves of the canine set. He insisted that I “put him out” before he would walk past. OK, I understand, we’ve all had different experiences. I put her upstairs and closed the door.

Echo was actually a female spaniel; hence my offense at “putting him out”. But since 2013, I’ve learned that spaniels can indeed be rather violent. Oh well. Echo certainly wasn’t. I think the real offense was that they were yelling, “Someone in your household broke this shit on purpose!” And I was just like, what the freak?! 

But the cincher–the reason I’m writing this review–is that a week or so later, I’ve just discovered a dirty, leaking pipe from the furnace sitting atop my $2000 table saw, which is now stained. So then I went to their website to email a complaint, and they don’t have an email address! You have to fill out why you want a plumber to contact them, and I don’t need one! GRRRR.

Yeah, that was really upsetting. I love my table saw so much that I’ve named it Blades of Glory. Poor Blades was finally repaired by some rust remover. I sent photographs to Dauenhauer and they offered me $35 off my next service call. Ugh. Two people found my plumber review useful. 

So then my next review was for the spiritual group that I was a member of. I think my review was rather pithy: 

They’re a cult. 

Two people found that useful, and one person found it funny. Thank you very much. 

Then, in 2014, I reviewed Dr. Bizer’s Visionworld. 

Seriously? I walked in while my dad was picking up some office supplies next door at Office Depot. I wanted to look at the frames, because I get my prescription from my own eye doctor (haven’t done it yet but will soon), I get my lenses from America’s Best, but I like to shop everywhere for frames to find just the right one.

So I went in and walked over to the frames, and a woman came up right away and asked if she could help me. I said I just wanted to look at frames. She stared me down but I refused to meet her eyes. So I walked around for a few minutes looking at all the pretty frames. That same woman kept coming up behind me to reshelve frames, and then another woman came up and asked if I needed any help. I said no and kept looking at the frames while she bore her eyes into me for about ten seconds. So then I wandered back to the first row of frames and the first lady came up right next to me, like an inch away from me. I left.

I want to go on the record very plainly that I have NEVER stolen/shoplifted, etc., anything in my whole life. (Assuming that they thought I was a shoplifter??)

Then I wrote a review for the local drugstore that I think Yelp took down because they relocated. This was in 2015. 

This review is for the new location close to Kinko’s on Bardstown. I have been accosted–twice!–by the same panhandler right outside the door. The cashiers make inappropriate comments to me about my purchases, or they chat with the people ahead of me in line, making me wait. The pharmacy staff is hostile and incompetent, to the point that I have to send my dad to get my medicines now. I can’t deal with it any longer.

The only good points, as others have said, are the 24 hours deal.

I was referring to how they’re open 24/7, I believe. I was convinced that the panhandler was in cahoots with the cashier, because they were always there at the drugstore together, with the panhandler outside when the cashier was on duty. My dad noticed that, too. 

Oh, here we go. I updated the review by rewriting it later that year. Okay. 

I know I shouldn’t have approached the cash register with an armful of tampons, Ibuprofen, and chocolate bars–the crazy woman special–but I certainly didn’t appreciate the dripping compassion of the sullen blond man who assisted me.

“Did you find everything you were looking for?” he asked pointedly.


“Do you need these chocolate bars to be placed in a bag?” he asked, eyeing me with concern.

“No. I’m going to rip the chocolate bars open the second I leave the store, and then litter the wrappers all over the drugstore parking lot because you did not put them in a bag.”

(I didn’t actually say that.)

“Well, here, I’ll put all of this stuff in a bag, since it’s all…. humiliatingly personal items,” he said.

“Your total is going to be forty eight dollars and forty cents,” he said. But I’d already swiped my card at this point, so I don’t know why he was still talking. I clicked for “credit.”

“It’s going to ask you to sign,” he said, slowly and thoughtfully, as if this were very important, and as if I’m so stupid that I would not have suspected that I’d need to sign for a credit card.

I signed.

“I have this receipt right here,” he said, as though I’m a complete simpleton. “And what I’m going to do for you is fold it over and slide it in the bag between these two boxes of tampons.”

(You know, maybe do that without announcing that you’re going to do it. First of all, you don’t need my permission to put the receipt in the bag. Second, I don’t enjoy being patronized like that.)  

“Thank you, and have a good day,” he said.

I wish I hadn’t returned the well wishes, but being painfully polite at times, I did. What I’d like to say to him now, though, if he’s listening, is, “Go jump in the lake.”

Later that year, 2015, I reviewed Panera Bread. 

There is something wrong with the cashiers at this restaurant. They’re either too friendly, which holds up the line and feels intrusive, or they’re downright hostile. I like cashiers who are courteous yet efficient. “Hello, how are you today? What can I get you?” is fine. But the people at Panera can’t find a balance. They’re high school kids, so I don’t blame them. But how often do you enter a restaurant in which the high schoolers appear to have staged a corporate hostile takeover? (Can we hire some adults, please?)

Also a problem: they have no system in place for efficiency.

“Do you have a My Panera card?”

“Is this for here or to go?”

“Can I have a name for the order?”

“Is a baguette OK with that?” (No, I want chips. If I want a baguette, I’ll say so.)

“Do you want an additional pastry item for $0.99?”

“Should your pastry item be on a plate, in a bag, or slid into a tiny sack?”

“Since you want a chocolate chip cookie, do you see one pre-packaged in front of you, or do I have to walk over to the counter and get you one?”

“Since you want a shortbread cookie, do you want a plain one or an iced mitten one?”

“Did you want the large salad or the half salad?”

Um. Figure it out, Panera. That’s too many questions.

When I go through the purchase process, I have the answer ready to each question as soon as they ask, because I’m trying to move the line along. They seem peeved, though, almost as if they want me to put some thought in it before I answer.

The last straw was today. Our cashier was openly hostile. Then, my salad had the wrong dressing, and not in a good way. It was disgusting. Now, I’ll give them credit where credit is due. They made me a new salad to take home. But I think that I’m going to choose a new regular haunt. Panera is so yesterday.

One person found that useful, and two people found it funny. 

Oh, my. In 2016, I roasted the local bookstore. 

I want to like this store. After all the “million” in their name is accurate–they have lots of books to choose from. I’ll grant them that–great selection!

However, I hate going there. Today’s experience sent me over the edge and led me to write a review. Before we entered the store, we noticed some odd-looking people in maroon shirts hanging outside, right by one of the two entrance doors. I detoured and entered the other door.

The whole store was filled with the maroon people. I told myself that a tour bus group decided to buy books, and I headed to the YA section.

Some guy came really close to me, forcing me to move three feet to my left. So I browsed the books there, on the next shelf. Then he repeated the procedure, mumbling “excuse me” while reaching all the way past me for a sticker on the shelf. This time, I did not budge, which forced him to be really up in my space. He was all smiley and unconcerned about the fact that he was still violating my personal space.

After that, I made a beeline for my dad and told him we had to leave. On the ride home, he shared his theory that BAM had hired an outside group to come in and do inventory. That made sense. Of course, they should have done it overnight, when the store is closed. How flaky can you be to not consider how upsetting that will be to your loyal customers?

In a general sense, today’s incident aside, I still hate shopping there. Every time I go through the checkout, they ask me if I’m a member. I’m not a member. They give me the same spiel about the perks of membership while I stand there silently, waiting for them to finish. “…And you’ll be elected Pope if the current pontiff dies, while also saving 10% on almost everything. Are you interested?”

“No,” I always say, and the transaction finally progresses. Heaven help me, though; I usually get stuck behind someone that is interested, and then there’s no momentum in the line for ten or fifteen minutes.

Then they try the magazine scam with me.

Other times, there’s no one working at the cash registers. So I stand there like an idiot until someone sees me and instructs me to check out at the cafe. At that point, I abandon my merchandise and leave.

Further, the ladies’ room has some issues. When the door is opened because someone is entering or leaving the area, you can see right into the stalls. No privacy whatsoever, unless no one comes or goes while you’re in there. No paper towels for your hands, either.

Six people found that useful, two people found it funny, and one person found it cool. 

Oh my. I reviewed the University of Louisville Dance Academy, which I attended from ages four to fourteen. 

Do you want your kids to be told that they have the wrong body to be successful at athletic endeavors? Then send them to this place!

There we have it. 

So then, in 2019, I reviewed the local veterinarians. By this point in my life, I’d discovered that spaniels are sometimes violent. 

I went to see them today to discuss euthanizing my violent dog. It’s a sad fact of life. The vet blamed me for not having tried hard enough. The vet asked if I know how to use internet, as if I’m a troglodyte, and I said yes; and she then slowly explained how to access a web site at all-one-word-dot-com, and then click “contact” and fill out the form. Like I’m a big, fat, stupid idiot because I don’t keep a cellphone with me. Call the Beverly Hillbillies! The vet had a bad, condescending and patronizing attitude that that was quite repugnant and disgusting. She must’ve eaten a bad clam. All the other vets I’ve ever seen at this place have been great, so I’m not sure what this alleged vet was doing there. Weekend vet? Perhaps. Not someone worth seeing. She shot down every suggestion I made as if I was offending her.

(I suggested sedationary pills for the dog, taking the dog to the pound, and a few other things; and I swear, this so-called vet wanted to strangle me. Because I’m the bad guy, and it’s all my fault. Too much hubris and ego. She kept telling me I’m a horrible person to want to do those things.) Yeah, I’d take my pets elsewhere. Vets who can’t deal with real-life issues should stay home.

No one found that review helpful, but I’m seeing now (darn it) that someone contacted me with a question along the lines of, “Was it such-and-such vet?” I wish I’d known about that message. 

And that leads us to today’s gym experience: 

I entered behind two people who were also checking in (I presumed), so I passed them and found another scanner thingy on the large counter. I swiped my badge and heard a ping, and I was about to go work out when the employee said, “Excuse me, ma’am? MA’AM? Are you a stupid idiot? You scanned the wrong thing.” (Okay, those weren’t her exact words, but you could tell she was thinking it.) So…. seeing the other reviews here, I doubt this review will get through to them, but they ought to try harder.

I’m not sure what my issue is, but I’m very sensitive to bad customer service. (Can you tell?) 😀 




5 thoughts on “Who let Meg out to play? Put her back in her cage!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Create your website at WordPress.com
Get started
%d bloggers like this: