(Mom, please don’t read this. I don’t need you worrying about us for the next two and a half years.)
Yesterday I called Verizon to set up our cable, Internet, and phone service at the new house. I spoke with a male representative- let’s call him Dave- who sounded to be about my age. When I gave Dave my address he asked for an apartment number.
“No apartment. It’s a house.”
“Oh! Did you just buy it?”
“Yes,” I said. “My husband and I closed almost a month ago.”
“Congratulations!” Dave exclaimed. “I’m so happy for you guys!”
Well, that was nice of him to say, especially because he doesn’t know us.
“So are you moving to New York from out-of-state?” he continued.
“Well my husband is from Long Island. I’m originally from Pennsylvania.”
“Yes,” I said. “It’s all I drink.”
“I love Yuengling, but I live in Massachusetts, so it’s hard to find.”
“Yeah, I guess Sam Adams has the market cornered up there.”
“But Yuengling is so much better than Sam Adams! The last time I was at the Yuengling brewery, I asked them if they had plans on expanding their distribution, and they do!”
“Okay…” I said, wondering when we’d get to the part where we set up my cable service.
“So, Yuengling! Wow! I guess we have that in common.”
I wasn’t aware that we were searching for commonalities.
Dave eventually moved on to describing the different bundle packages available, and tried to sell me on a bunch of upgrades, which I declined. After nearly twenty minutes we were just about finished. Dave asked me how I wished to be listed in the phonebook, and I said, “How about by my first and last name?”
“No! I wouldn’t do that!”
“Well, if you were a man, that would be one thing, but you’re a woman.”
“And, you know, there are still people out there who look up random women in the phonebook to call and harass…”
There are? This man was starting to sound like my mother.
“So I think it would be better if we listed you by your first initial and last name.”
“Okay,” I said. “My husband and I have the same first initial, so I guess that makes sense.”
We then moved on to scheduling my installation appointment. Dave requested my address a second time, for the technician. I heard him tapping away on his computer, and assumed he was entering vital information into the system.
“Oh, you have a brick driveway!” he exclaimed. Everything was an exclamation with this guy.
“You’re the white brick house with the black shutters and brick driveway, right?”
“I just Google Mapped your house,” he said.
“It looks like you have a great block there. Nice neighbors. I’m so excited for you!”
“Oh, and is that the school on the corner? How convenient! Your kids will love that.”
“Yeah,” I said, starting to feel like Dave may be one of those people who searches for random women in the phonebook. I contemplated having the locks at the house changed- again.
Show of hands, who (other than my mother) thinks Dave from Verizon might show up on my doorstep one day with a case of Yuengling?