Now that I’m back home, I apologize for my quiet. I’ve been busy. Doing what, you ask? Ah well…Grab a coffee and let me tell you the first of many stories to come!
My parents should be ashamed. Ashamed I tell you! They raised a responsible adult that pays her bills on time and has no debt. What the hell were they thinking? Did they not understand how this was going to complicate my life down the road?!! oy…
So, in the latest installment of Customer *cough cough* Service [because I don't believe I've done one since way back in the days of HorrorWench on LJ] I offer, “How to rent a car as a responsible adult.”
The time for the move is getting closer. I’ve given notice at work. I’ve given notice on my rental property. I’ve scoured school districts and talked to principals, councilors and real estate agents about areas for my kids. I’ve gathered medical records and birth certificates and everything else I may need from this state before I leave it. And I’ve applied at 972 jobs… but haven’t found one. Crunch time and panic has set in. Some brief discussion with the aforementioned parents and we all believe that it’s going to be difficult to find a job from four states away [after all, how do they know I'm really moving? And why pick me if they've got candidates standing right there in front of them?], and that I need to get my butt out to PA and hoof those streets until I find one. Okay then. That’s what I’ll do.
Get the plane ticket, make a packing list, let the schools know that their father is the primary emergency contact for a few weeks, call friends and secure temporary lodging, and rent a car. Stop there. Actually, rather than just stopping, how about we come to a screeching halt in front of a lovely brick wall and bang our heads on it… Repeatedly?
Check prices online and find the best rates. Reserve the car. NOT. I don’t have a credit card—I believe plastic is evil and the reason that most of the country is in debt is because of credit. It’s a bad thing. I spend money I have [interesting concept, isn't it?!] and pay my bills on time. And for this, I can’t reserve online. So I call the place and see if I can use the debit card for payment, you know, real money that you can touch and everything. Sure I can, no problem, all I have to do is provide my insurance information, my driver’s license, my last pay stub and a current electric bill.
Ummm… Remember up above when I said I pay my bills on time? Yeah, not only are they paid on time, I’ve paid ahead this month because I’m going to be gone. So I have no current bills. I have nothing due at all—electric or otherwise. Of course, they don’t care if it’s paid, they just need to see the bill itself, but I’m moving, so I’m not saving anything. I’m not hauling anything across country that I don’t need to, so I paid and threw the bills away. My cell phone is paid online, how about that? Nope. Must be a landline for phone. How about my cable bill? Nope. That can be secondary, but it’s gotta be an electric or heat bill—which are together in my world. Crap! Ok, let me call them and see what I can do…
After several hours on the phone with Rachel at “BFE Electric”, who by the way was very nice and wins big points for that, I find that they can print any number of reports and email them to me, none of which have the information the rental place needs [let's just call them e-cars]. They can reprint my last bill and mail it, rather than email it, but then it won’t get here until after I’m gone. Argh… Finally, Rachel decides if I set up the online account I could print it myself from there. Cool! So we set it all up and she says wait 24 hours for it to be in the system. She apologizes for everything and we hang up. And wait…
24 hours later, I gleefully log into my account online to find that I have less identity than a new born baby. Oh I have an account, and I’ll have bills on there in the future, but there is no history. Nothing to print. Nothing that will help. CRAP! Ok, call e-cars back.
I’m sure it sounded like my house was on fire from the panic in my voice, and I half expected them to tell me in a robotic voice, “if this is an emergency, please hang up and dial 911.” However, on this day, I got a new person on the phone: Jessica. Sweet thing. Very helpful. And bonus, recently relocated herself and had some tips for me. Of course, all of that aside, I still didn’t have an electric bill. I need a car to get to interviews, learn the roads, find a house—you know, everything I need to do to actually relocate. She understands and we start a game of cat and mouse. She suggests something, I concur, she asks a supervisor. No. I suggest something, she gets hopeful and runs to ask a supervisor. No. We go back and forth for a while and then she asks about a cable bill. “Wait… the man I spoke to yesterday said I couldn’t use that.” Pish-posh, and off to beg a supervisor. She comes back and says it’s a go. I log into my account, tell her what’s on screen, she cheers, I hit print—e-cars here I come!
“Just bring in your insurance, the bill and your driver’s license. And make sure all the information matches.”
Matches? Ahh crap! See, I got divorced and moved to an apartment. Everything has the right address on it except my driver’s license, which I didn’t change because I’m moving to PA and would have to change it out there. Grrrr… Ok, call the DMV and find out how fast I can get a new license. Except it’s the DMV and around these parts they have reduced their hours to “every third tuesday when the moon is full and you hop up and down on one leg”… CRAP! Ok, I’m leaving in 2 days, what can I do? Call the mom, get her DMV information. Are you kidding me? Mine is “supposedly” open tomorrow. If it’s not, I’ll drive an hour to mom’s and hit hers, but I have to do it right away in the morning because their friday hours are from 8 to 8:15am, ok, it was really to 3pm but still, if I wait for the kids to get home from school and go, they’ll be closed. So I will have to drive over, get license, drive back, get kids, drive over again for the weekend and Airport Bed & Breakfast. I heart murphy, really I do. Bright and early the next morning I hit the DMV, and lo ‘n behold they’re really open. Cool! Go in, fill out the form, wait my turn. While I’m waiting… nah, this blog is long enough, we’ll save that tidbit for another time! Get license, get home, pack, grab kids and head to mom’s. Off to PA I go…
You’d think the story would be over, wouldn’t you? Hmmm… not so much. That was just the flirting, now we’re going on the actual date and I have spaghetti and red wine with a white dress. So I physically get to e-cars and apparently my reservation has been flagged, because when the nice 14-year-old looking boy types me into the system, he immediately looks at me like I’m a wanted fugitive, excuses himself and retrieves the manager. Is your head hanging yet? Rolling your eyes yet? Because yes, feel my pain!
Going over the entire saga again, I have to re-explain why I need a car, why I don’t live in PA, how long I’ll have it, where I’ll be staying, where I used to work, where I hope to work, my shoe size and what I had for breakfast. Holy shit, really? Just because I’m a responsible adult and don’t have plastic? Are you kidding me? Seriously, do I look like someone that rents cars and then never brings them back? I have to list local contacts. I list who I’m staying with and who brought me to e-cars. Crap, don’t remember the first one’s address, so I call and explain and get the address. The second is still in the parking lot, waiting to make sure I get the car. And the manager of e-cars then tells me they have to check to make sure I know these people. Really? I just called the one and you can wave to the other one… right there, outside your window. Nope, not good enough. So they call the first and ask if he knows me, if I’m staying with them, where he works, how old his daughter is, what color his wife’s eyes are, and whether or not their puppy has ever chewed on a neighborhood cat. Ok, not that bad, but you get it. Then they call the other one… in the parking lot. I’m listening to the manager talk and watching the eye-rolling and wide “are you kidding?” smile through the window. And then I finally get handed keys… to a car that is NOT what I reserved. At this point, I don’t care if they’d have given me an out of commission mail truck. I smile, grab the keys, try not to be snarky and leave.
No debt, good credit, avoid plastic—these are things that should be good. These are things that my parents instilled in me at an early age. These are things that the modern world does not comprehend. Thank god today’s society has hair dye available to cover my new gray!
Category: Misc
Kelli 06.01.09
