Rotten deal

Like most everyone, I love a good deal. (Everyone, that is, except Mike's grandmother who thinks if something is on sale there must be a problem with it.) I keep my eyes on the daily deal offers like Eversave and Groupon.

Last summer, I bought a Groupon to a restaurant near my office. $10 for $20 worth of food to South of Chicago Pizza and Beef. And then I promptly forgot about it. Lucky for me, I remembered the deal last week. I printed out the certificate and made note to use it before the January 24, 2012 expiration date. 

Life being what it is, the morning of January 24th arrived and I still had not used my offer. So I planned to  go to South of Chicago for lunch with some co-workers. When we arrived, the smell was heavenly. Fresh bread and melty cheese. Little did I know something was going to stink real soon.

Before I could even look at the menu, the cashier saw the Groupon voucher in my hand and said, "You can't use your Groupon. It's expired."

"No, the expiration date is January 24. That's today, so I have until the end of today to use it."

"No. It's Groupon's rules. It's expired and you can't use it." Then I looked beyond her shoulder to see a white board with the same SOL message. 

"Well," I said, "Then we're leaving." And my two co-workers and I went down the street to Tortas Mexican sandwich shop, where we had a delicious lunch (I recommend the #4 - Luis Miguel), although the service was a little inconsistent.

When I got back to the office, I lodged a complaint with Groupon, took a poll of my Facebook friends regarding expiration dates (all 19 people who commented agreed with me), and left a message on the South of Chicago Facebook page:

"Really disappointed that you did not honor my Groupon Indianapolis today. The expiration says January 24, 2012. I should have had until close of business today to use it. And I was not the only customer turned away. The ill will and bad experience that I will be sure to share with others will cost more than the $10 you would have eaten had you honored my Groupon."

I was going to blog about the experience, but opted to go to bed early. Plus, by then I had simmered down a little bit. 

It wasn't until the middle of the night last night when I was awake (as usual) that I read South of Chicago's replies to my FB message. The first reply said,

"You can use your coupon for face value up until July 22."

Funny, that gal at the counter didn't mention that. Just nope. Sorry. If she had offered that, I might have been willing to accept it and place an order using my so-called-expired certificate for $10 off. That might have taken the edge off some of my frustration.

Then I read the second reply and got angry all over again. I'll let you see it for yourself:

Seriously? One of the benefits of being engaged in social media as a business is so you can communicate with your customers, resolve difficulties and let others see how you take care of those who try to support your business. I think South of Chicago Pizza and Beef missed that in Social Media 101. 

There was no "I'm sorry for your experience" or "There was some confusion" or even "Please call us at xxx-xxxx so we can work on making this better." Just a childish mocking of me -- who you can be assured will never be a customer. 

On a positive note, I also received feedback from Groupon, which said:

I'm really sorry for the trouble with this! You were correct in your understanding of how the expiration works. I'll talk to the business to see if we can get that cleared up for them. I've just canceled this order and issued $10 Groupon credit to your account. The credit is available in your account immediately and does not expire.

At least someone knows a little something about how to treat customers.

An uncomfortable position to be in

It's been an unusual year to be an Indianapolis Colts fan. On one hand, our team was abysmal. Our quarterback sat on the sidelines all season. Our record (2-14) looked more like the score of a first grade basketball game. The Colts owner made a game of sending cryptic messages via Twitter, almost just to amuse himself to watch everyone wondering what he meant. And after the season was over, the coaching infrastructure exploded (which actually might be a good thing). But despite all of that, there was a silver lining to the 2011-2012 football season: We are to be at the center of the world stage that is the Super Bowl.

All of the city is abuzz with Super Bowl XLVI (that's 46 for you not up on your Roman numerals) fever. People from hospitality workers to restaurant staff to government officials to ordinary citizens are psyched and ready to share that well-known "Hoosier Hospitality." Volunteers wearing hand-knit blue and white scarves will be out in force to make sure our guests leave here with the feeling that Indianapolis is a city that is worth visiting again.

There's just one (very big) piece of broccoli stuck in our proverbial service with a smile. The Patriots are coming to town. If you're an Indianapolis Colts fan, it's a given that you hate the Patsies. You hate Bill Bellicheat and his whiny quarterback. The name Pa------ (I can't bring myself to type it out again) makes your blood boil at first mention. And their fans? About a 110% on the obnoxious meter. I'd venture to bet there is no team more hated by Indianapolis Colts fans than those Minutemen who will be coming to our house on February 5.

The thought of them playing in the Super Bowl in our stadium is bad enough. But the thought of them winning the Super Bowl here? Well, I just might have to start a Facebook petition to raze Lucas Oil Stadium and start all over. It would be like Voldemort throwing a party at Hogwarts while Harry Potter was forced to serve drinks and clear tables.

But this is Indiana where "Hoosier Hospitality" is more than a tourism slogan. I know that we can put our wands and our cursed charms away and greet our guests with cheerfulness and a desire to put on a spectacular week-long show. When those New England fans and their team return home (hopefully sans the Vince Lombardi trophy), I hope they'll go back impressed with the spectacle this "flyover city" put together. I hope they will talk about the friendly people, the world class service, and the stellar party Indianapolis threw for the occasion.

Even if we do still hate them and the team which shall not be named.

This one is for all the kids (Mine and yours.)

Yesterday I wrote a letter to my daughter Annie (and her friends and all other teenagers). The letter was in response to the suicide of a beautiful, talented, well-loved 16-year-old girl. The message was "Have someone." If you haven't read it yet, please do so here.

Today my mind has been filled with aching for this child who felt such deep despair that she made a tragic decision. I've prayed for her parents and siblings who must be wondering "why?" I've imagined her friends, gathered and wondering what they missed, what more they could have done.

I don't presume to have any answers. But I do have another message for you, Annie. And for Charlie and Robbie and all of us.

Be someone.

Be someone who is willing to walk across the cafeteria or the playground to talk to the person who is always standing alone, no matter what others might say.

Be someone who steps outside of your circle to partner up with someone you don't know very well for the science project or the sit-up challenge in gym class.

Be someone who smiles and holds the door open and says "I like your hair" or "You are a good artist" or "How was your weekend?"

Be someone who really listens -- puts down the cell phone, the video game remote, the laptop and listens with your ears, your eyes and your heart.

Be someone who hears what others are saying...and what they are not.

Be someone who refuses to laugh at another person's expense.

Be someone who isn't defined by a group or a label like "hipster," "jock," or "nerd." Instead be someone who has friends in all those groups and who can bring people together.

Be someone who is honest, who doesn't sugarcoat your own life. Be real so other people can see that we're all in this human-ness together, that we all struggle.

Be someone who lets others know that they matter.

Be someone who isn't afraid to break a friend's confidence and go to an adult if you think they are in danger.

I know it sounds like a tall order. But I know you can do it.

I believe in you.

Love,
Mom

A letter to my daughter (and yours)

Dear Annie,

Today I learned of the death of a young girl from Indianapolis. She was 16 years old -- just a year older than you. Like you, she was into theater. Her friends described her bright smile, the way she brought life to a room just by walking into it. That reminds me of you. By all accounts, she was well loved.

Yet, yesterday this bright, sparkling girl took her own life.

I didn't know her, but her news of her passing took my breath away. It hit too close to home for this mom of a theater-loving, smiling, laughing, well-loved teenage daughter.

And so tonight, I'm sitting here writing this letter to you -- and to your friends and to any other teenager who happens across this post. What I want to say is this:

Have someone.

Have someone, an adult, in your life that you can talk to. Of course you can talk to me or Dad. But I was a teenager once. I know that sometimes your parents are the last people you want to talk to. And that's ok. We don't have to know everything. We might want to, but we don't have to.

But have someone who you trust to tell those things to. Have someone who you can confide in; who will keep your confidence and who will also know how to take care of your heart; who will know when to just listen, when to step in and do something more.

And to your friends who might be reading this, if you need someone to be that person in your life, I am here.

I feel like I should go on here to say how much you are loved, how much joy and pride you bring to my life. Those things are true and I hope you already know that.

But I think I just really want to say have someone, because no one could replace you in my life.

Love,
Mom

In honor of Maggie
and in support of To Write Love on Her Arms

Biggest Loser: Home run for Cassandra

 

Tonight on The Biggest Loser, it was Cassandra's night to shine.

The 25-year-old from Michigan stepped up during a Chinese food challenge and ate 2 fortune cookies to earn a 2-pound advantage at the scale and the right to create black team-red team faceoff pairings on the scale. (She was the only one from either team who ate anything.)

But it wasn't just chowing down on 60 calories worth of cookies that made her night. She put herself up against Conda for the weign-in faceoff. During workouts in the gym, Dolvett set the two head to head in a squat thrust competition. Cassandra took her first victory then.

Conda alleged that Cassandra cheated and refused to give her props for the victory, though she did pony up the Subway sandwich that the two had promised to the winner. So during the last chance workout, Dolvett set the two up for a rematch, doing a ladders exercise. Cassandra won that handily. Even that wasn't enough to shut up Conda.

The final match-up between the two came on the scale. Conda posted a measly 3-pound weight loss. Apparently flapping your gums doesn't burn many calories. Cassandra buried Conda's 3 pounds with an 8-pound loss of her own.

Yes! Time to shut your pie hole, Conda!

Although she repeatedly beat Conda this week, Cassandra wasn't arrogant about it. She just worked hard and let her actions do the talking. So far, she is the biggest loser in the house, having lost over 11% of her total body weight. Tonight she emerged as one of my favorite contestants.


In other Biggest Loser news --

Joe from the Black Team made history when he became the first contestant to flat out quit. He didn't ask to be sent home in the elimination (the red team went to the elimination room). He just packed up and left because he missed his family. It will be interesting to see how he does at home.

Lauren was the person eliminated from the red team. It was a surprise to her and to me. Most of the people who voted for her to leave cited her drive and her status as single with no kids as factors that would lead to her success at home. So far, she's proving them right because in the transformation moment, she'd lost 53 pounds and looked great. I do worry about how her mom, Gail, will do being on the ranch by herself. Only time will tell. 

Cassandra's grandma, Nancy, was close to elimination tonight. I'm glad she was spared so Cassandra had a terrific week overall. 

Dudes

I was feeling a little (self-imposed) pressure to blog tonight since it's been a few days, but came up empty in the idea department. So I turned to that never-ending font of ideas -- Facebook -- and asked for some. The first (and only) response I got came from my friend BgKahuna who suggested that I blog about "dudes."

BK is under the almost true, yet still false assumption that he is the only man who reads my blog. But my husband and my dad read it. And a few others who shall remain nameless in case being associated with the 4th Frog Blog jeopardizes their man cards.

Anyway, for some reason, I decided to take the suggestion and go with it, even though BK's suggestion was made while he was hopped up on morphine in the ER.

Which brings me to the first point I'd like to make about dudes. For all the thousands of pounds they can bench press and all the hits they can take in football, what is it about a little nasal congestion and a cough that renders them useless to society for a period of 2-4 days?

Of course, my main frame of reference here is Mike. As soon as he starts to whimper that he thinks he's getting a cold, I cut that crap off at the pass. "You're fine" and I move out of the room. That's not to say he's never been really sick. He has. But when he's really sick, he doesn't whine and complain. He just lays there, which is so much easier to deal with.

Also, I think someone needs to research the selective gender-based dementia that is so common among the male species. Doesn't anyone out there in the academic world wonder how it is that men (and even boys) can remember how many yards Eli Manning threw four games ago and what Jose Conseco's batting average is, but they can't remember to take out the trash or get milk on their way home from work?

And do the words "put it down" or "wipe it off" not have any meaning to those who stand to go pee?

Now, in all fairness, the world needs dudes. And not just the world, but I need them.

Who else would fix the printer and figure out why the internet is not working? Who would unclog the toilets (especially when it's clogged with man poop) and get the heavy boxes of Christmas decorations off the top shelf?

Dudes are handy to have around for boys who want to talk to someone who knows something -- and actually cares -- about video games and for grilling stuff.  And, as I'm sure we'll find out soon, they are much more intimidating to young men who come to court our daughters. Then there's that whole proliferation of the species business, too.

So there you go, BgKahuna. The 4th Frog Treatise on Dudes. Thanks for the idea. (Of course, the man has the idea, but it's the woman who does all the work to make it happen...)

What is wrong with us?

Every year I get a page-a-day calendar. One of those little desktop jobs that you tear off a page each day (hence the name. In years past, I've had calendars whose themes were The Office (funny quotes), the Biggest Loser (weight loss inspiration) and Scrabble (make your best word). I haven't gotten my calendar yet this year. So the other day I was wasting  spending time nosing around Amazon.com to see what calendars are out there.

What I found just really made me wonder about what is wrong with us. Us being the collective "we, the people." I found calendars and book titles that included the following:

• Insult a Day
• Getting in Touch with Your Inner Bitch
• Life is Crap
• The Daily Bitch
• F My Life

I'm no Pollyanna. I know that life is not perfect and I offer my fair share of complaints. (For reference, back up two posts to "Spontaneous Verbal Combustion.") But why would I spend good money putting those negative messages in front of myself day after day? In a line of thinking along "you are what you eat," I think to a certain extent I am -- or I become -- what I surround myself with.

I'm not suggesting that we have to bury our heads or turn away from everything negative. We need to be aware of the way our world works so we can make choices to keep us clear of trouble or to help change things that need to be changed. But I think we also need to spread joy and laughter and learning and other worthwhile pursuits. Maybe that is Pollyanna-ish. So be it.

I'm not likely to choose a daily calendar of puppies or kittens. But you can bet I won't be choosing "F My Life," either. Instead, I'm thinking of this: