Why I Haven’t Paid for a Hairdryer Since the Eighties

So I have a secret power. Ok, maybe not so secret, but calling it a super-power seems a little hyperbolic and telling people that I have a power is a little too new-agey for my taste. So secret power is what I'm going with.

Here it is: I can return basically anything. I really can't remember how I discovered this talent, but I do feel like the discovery was both secret and powerful.

Let's be honest, part of my talent stems from my lack of shame (yes, random store clerk, I AM returning this half-eaten head of lettuce)(I feel like lettuce should last at least week, don’t you?) and my (potentially distorted) sense of how long things should last (WHAT? This blow dryer doesn’t come with a lifetime guarantee? How is that possible? It only gets used once a day – at most! Why is everything in this world disposable?) 

I also believe in (read: love) extended warrantees. My husband (let’s call him Jacob)(because that’s his name) used to think that warrantees were only profitable for the store until he met me and witnessed how a regular yellow Sony Walkman could metamorphose into a shiny new MP3 player* with the help of one extended warrantee and a few very nice Future Shop employees.** Sometimes the extended warrantee will really work to your advantage – take the case of my DVD player that broke nearly five years into the warrantee. Not only did I get a new one in its place, but because the cost had come down significantly since I bought the original, I was able to talk them into giving me an upgrade.

However, the point of this blog post is not just to show-off but to share my wisdom (frankly I am sick of returning things for friends and family). So here it is –

Sheri’s Guide to Returning and Exchanging Anything:

or 

Why I Haven’t Paid for a Hairdryer Since the Eighties:

1. Don’t be too proud to suck up. It doesn’t matter how annoying the teenage manager actually is, if you want a full refund for your mostly-eaten baked potato you have to make him feel like he is the smartest, most powerful man in the world. He might even surprise you and throw in a free medium Frosty.***

2. Assume that it IS returnable. Produce should not be mouldy when you get it home, lipstick should be the shade the package suggests, and if the movie theatre was way too cold thus affecting your enjoyment of the show, let them know. You will get a credit.

3. Use what you’ve got. When I was younger and cuter and left the house with clean clothes and hair, I used that to my advantage. Now I am less young and less cute and am generally covered in whatever Mr. Baby ate at his last meal but I have a ludicrously cute baby.

4. Know your audience. Teenage boys don’t care about your cute baby and women in their twenties (thirties, forties and fifties****) generally don’t care if you are young and cute (unless you are male).

5. Appeal to their sense of power. As everyone likes to feel powerful, if they CAN do it for you they will, as long as you make sure to show how impressed and grateful you are (as well you should be – you just got a new coffeemaker!).

6. Appeal to their sense of logic. Yes, I realize that these videos auto-sold to my account because I had them for three months, but if you buy them back from me I am far more likely to remain a renting customer which is more profitable for Blockbuster in the long-run. (For the record, they did, and I am).

7. Don’t take no for an answer (the first three to five times). If the clerk can’t give you what you want, ask if there is a manager around. If she’s not around, ask when she will be and return to the store at that time.

8. Don’t be too quick to threaten to never come back (as you really have to be willing to never go back) The cost of your $8.00 hair conditioner might not be worth boycotting Shopper’s Drug Mart for life, especially because there will come a time that you will need diapers and it would suck not to be able to buy some at the store two blocks away.****

9. Keep the box. Everything (even really old things) are easier to return in their original packaging. While Jacob is not a huge fan of our basement full of boxes, he does enjoy our new coffeemaker, toaster oven and DVD player.

10. Be creative. If they can’t give you your money back, ask for a store credit. If they don’t give credits ask for a direct exchange. You’ll be surprised how often they say yes.

11. Don’t be a law-douche. If you are a law student you are likely anxious to tell them all about contract law, consideration, negligence, snails in ginger beer and anything else that you learned in class that week. Don’t. You will sound like a douche.

*In the interest of full disclosure, the actual order was walkman, discman, MP3 player

**Over the course of about 10 (music-filled) years. The trick is to purchase a new warrantee with every exchange/upgrade. 

***This story is based on actual events. In certain cases, characters may have been changed for dramatic purposes. For example, the teenage manager might actually have been really nice and kind of cute. Also, there might have been two refunded potatoes and one of them might have already been eaten. 


****The events described are fictitious. Any similarity to any person living or dead is merely coincidental.

*****By about age sixty, many women do start to appreciate young and cute as they likely have a child or grandchild your age. Happily, it  also seems that with time people’s standards for “young and cute” relax significantly and begin to include anyone under age 40 (my senior citizen friend Helen always tells me that I look like a teenager. It’s pretty great, I’m not going to lie)

Earthquakes and Home Renos

So there was an eathquake around here the other day – a real one measuring 5 on the Richter Scale. People were terrified, piling out of buildings, swarming the streets, leaving their government jobs early(!). And while I was worried enough about our shaking upper floor to grab Mr. Baby and run downstairs, I had no idea that it was an earthquake until Mr. Baby and I headed out for a walk about 20 minutes post-quake only to find Chainsmoking Neighbour still visibly shaking on her porch (I was tempted to write “quaking” rather than “shaking” right there for the sake of my husband, but I resisted)(mostly)

“Did you feel that?” she said

“Sure, you did too?” I said, shocked

“Of course, it measured 5.5 on the Richter scale”

At this point I realized that the shaking had been caused by an earthquake and not Noisy* Neighbours’ home renos. I should have known – the banging and vibrating they cause always lasts more than 30 seconds.

I do like Noisy Neighbours - they are polite and friendly but there has been so much vibrating and banging coming from their side of the house that I am tempted to renovate just out of spite. Of course my plan is to wait until they have a baby and to subtly find out their baby’s nap schedule. At that point I will find contractors who are willing to work at exactly those times and who will make a lot of noise but who don’t really know what they are doing so that the reno takes a really, really, really long time (Noisy Neighbours are do-it-yourselfers). And then I will be happy.

*they are not just renovating, they are also really into music

Sheri's Blog?

“What are you going to name your blog?” asked my husband. 

“Trying to Find my Funny”

“You don’t think that’s setting expectations too high?”

“No, because it’s about how I lost my funny not about how I AM funny”

“Are you going to talk about that every time?”

“Well no, but it’s the reason I am starting the blog”

“Hmmm….I prefer a blog that is titled what it is going to talk about, it’s less confusing. Take Carolyn’s blog – Hell in a Handbasket …the name just doesn’t make sense”

“Sure it does— she has religious themes – it’s a Christian blog”

“But she never talks about going to hell in a handbasket so I always forget that is her blog”

 “Then what should she call it? “ I ask

“Carolyn’s blog”.

Trying to Find my Funny

So I have been thinking about starting a blog for a while, namely because whenever I see much stupider, less funny people with blogs I think – what the crap? How does that unfunny, bad speller have a blog –with readers- while I don’t (the answer generally comes down to laziness, of course –apparently all the brain power these people save by not trying to spell or be interesting converts into writing energy)?

The thing is that I am a little fearful that I have lost my funny. I used to be really funny – writing sketches and essays and short stories and articles and winning contests all over the place. Then I went to law school and the funny ended. Well mostly. I still wrote funny letters to boyfriends and people I was looking to Internet date (never both at the same time).  Before you judge and tell me that letters to people over Jdate should not count as writing, I will assure you that those letters constituted some of my best material and almost made up for the fact that I was wearing a padded bra while writing said letters. True story.

Then I got married and a job practicing Parliamentary law. Oh and I had a baby who I am currently staying home with. So now the full extent of my funny consists of Facebook status updates (some better than others), funny voices for the baby and the occasional angry e-mail to my sister, depending on who you ask.

Another reason I worry that I am losing my funny has to do with the fact that I am married to someone who is worse than not funny – someone who thinks he is funny, but is not. Correction - seniors (preferably Jewish) and nerds find him quite witty if not hilarious (not surprisingly, his father thinks that he is Jackie Mason)(the highest possible compliment that one can bestow upon a person in his eyes).  So while I don’t blame my husband completely (for this), I do feel myself pandering to him, making stupid puns and jokes meant for the geriatric set in hope of hearing a chuckle. And while I do enjoy making my husband laugh, a little part of me dies inside every time I hear him say “good one honey”.

So I have decided to start a blog. If nothing else, it is good practice – a good way for me to find my funny again. I need an audience other than my baby, who for all I know has his father’s sense of humour.