Concerned Customer Complaint: Letter to the Dealership OWNER: "Your Bathroom is an Out House."

WARNING:
Dearest Readers:

Please stop here if you are offended by "foul" language.

If you need a smile and choose to continue to read, please note the following:

• NO. In support of my mortified mother, my mother did NOT raise me to talk like this.

• YES. I DID - I REALLY DID send this to the OWNER of the franchise. (Haven't you ever really wanted to complain about something that made you feel uncomfortable but you were too embarrassed to explain it the only way that could truly illustrate your annoyance!?)

• The names of the accused have been withheld (Come on! I'm not THAT evil. BUT if I go back next time and it hasn't been resolved, stay tuned - 'cause I'll even post a MAP of the location!)

• I waited until I got to the HOME DEPOT to go to the bathroom almost THREE HOURS after I initially arrived at the dealership - ladies, THAT'S how bad it was!

• YES. I got a prompt reply. Mortified apology. Commitment to discuss at length during their weekly Management Meeting. (Laughing uncontrollably! Imagine THAT conversation!) And a commitment to rectify the situation.

• YES. I am personally familiar with the "condition" that I am referring to - I am proud NOT to be a Nun :o)

THE LETTER - (This letter has been modified from it's original version. The original letter was written with my Blackberry, and let's face it, we're still a ways from publishing "Pulitzer" material by thumbs!)


Dear Madam,

I hope this finds you well. I am currently sitting in your Service Waiting Area as my car is being serviced, and I couldn't help reaching out to you in my disappointment.

I purchased my vehicle from your dealership last August and my fiance purchased another this January.

We had hoped that this would be the start of a "breath-taking" relationship!

This is the second time I've brought my car in for routine service - about my 6th visit to your showroom.

At each visit, I have complained to our salesman, the Sales Manager who turned bright shades of red even through his dark skin tone, as well as the young women at the cashier's desk.

Each time, I've been assured that my complaint would be addressed before my next visit and six times later, I'm STILL completely disgusted!
I am disgusted at the Ladies Bathroom!

The first time my fiance and I both left the adjoining bathrooms we looked each other and said
"it smells like sweaty testicles!". (The language wasn't quite as P.C.)

Perhaps it is just a confirmation of our belief that we are soul mates that we both cried,
"SWEATY BALLS!" out in unison!


Alas, as I have learned in my previous FIVE complaints to members of your staff, I am not the first or several dozen-th person to bring the "sweaty balls"- stench and unwelcoming bathroom to the attention of members of your management.

In fact, on several of those occasions, along with fits of laughter at my bluntness, I have been encouraged by the management to share my frank review to other members of your staff who exclaimed,

"EXACTLY!

THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT IT SMELLS LIKE!"

Although I am proud to have been accepted as one of your sweaty guys in the dealership-locker-room, that is not the response you should be proud of!

I am also a woman business owner and I am appalled that a business owned proudly by such successful women would allow what, as a woman, you'd understand, more than anything else - that the condition of your bathroom, is an indication of the service one would expect in your establishment!

As I look around in the showroom at 3:09pm, there are only TWO male customers and EIGHT women and even a child!

I would be mortified to let MY child in that bathroom!

You should be ashamed!

Where's the Clorox?
Febreze?

Perhaps a Reed Diffuser or two?!

While I'm at it, the stalls don't even have a hook or shelf to place a purse or jacket!

Completely disgraceful!

I am hoping that by reaching out to you, that FINALLY my complaints will be heard and something will be done!

I hope to hear from you soon and that action will be taken to make visiting the "water closet" in your establishment fair better than an "out house!"

(hoping for some fresh air)

siempre - dorana


UPDATE: Yoda had his oil changed last week and excitedly reported:


"There's a pretty plant in the bathroom! And there's new air fresheners!


Now it smells like SWEATY BALLS WITH PERFUME!"




I think I might have to post that map...

WANTED: A FEMALE GYNECOLOGIST!

I woke up this morning and planned the outline of my day and remembered to set an alarm for 11:00am. I hurried through my morning routine and tried my best to accomplish as much as I could before my deadline.

I placed the alarm in the upstairs bedroom knowing that it would force me to get up from my work in my office to start getting ready, as my usual tardiness was not an option!

I ran up the stairs and grabbed my towel, a fresh razor blade and as I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, wondered if I should wash my hair.

I scrubbed myself from head to toe making sure to use the exfoliating scrubby stuff and paid special attention as I shaved my legs and even did some careful trimming... I glanced at myself in the mirror again and said out loud,

"I should have washed my hair!"

As I hurried back to the bedroom to start getting dressed, I scurried through my underwear drawer looking for the perfect bra and panty for my afternoon date...

with my Gynecologist...

Seriously, I didn't even fret this much as I got ready for my first date with my BOYFRIEND of two years, although knowing what I know now, I would definitely had paid more attention over my preparation and wardrobe that night... there's a $40 black bra that's STILL MISSING!...

I carefully smoothed lotion over my just-shaven legs and started to put on my undergarments when I suddenly stopped in the middle of pulling up my most conservative, clean and proper panty and practically stumbled onto my face as I ran over to the bathroom and gingerly stood on the scale. I closed my eyes as I made that silent prayer...

Every woman knows the exact weight measurement from their last doctor's visit - for most people it's once a year, even though my experiences seem to be vastly more frequent!

You could have blown every diet all year long and broken every resolution, slept in and missed every spin and yoga class, enjoyed that pizza over the weekend, but the ultimate test - the biggest fear is to weigh more than that little black box on the top of the right hand corner of the last visit's chart!

I looked down as a cold sweat started to cover my still naked body...

SUCCESS!!

I had lost ten pounds since my last doctor's appointment, but now a new concern,

"What am I going to wear so that I could prove all of my hard work these last few weeks!?"

They hardly allow you to take off your shoes to weigh yourself these days let alone let you get naked on the hallway scale so that you have the opportunity to yell for all to hear,

"LOOK AT ME, FAIR PEOPLE OF DR. SCIAN'S OBGYN OFFICE!

I'VE LOST TEN POUNDS SINCE MY LAST VISIT!"

(There's a reason that I set the alarm for two and a half hours before my doctor's appointment!)

As I went back to getting dressed with a sure bounce in my step, I took a mental survey of possible "I'VE LOST TEN POUNDS SINCE MY LAST VISIT" OUTFITS!

Jeans - OUT
Sweats - OUT

And then I found them! The white yoga pants, ('cause the gray ones are dirty), that I can't wear out of the house 'cause, well, they show everything!

No worries though!...

Going to the gynecologist is the only acceptable time to leave the house wearing granny panties with yoga pants!

I slid onto the scale after I fully dressed, ecstatic at only having gained about two pounds - thus able to show I'd lost EIGHT! - and start heading out of the bedroom door...

Just as my foot crossed the threshold to the hallway I froze again!

I looked down at my brand new, pristine white socks with pretty lavender tops and screeched loudly!

"I HAVE TO COVER MY NEW SOCKS!"

With two cats and a dog, stepping across the threshold from my carpeted bedroom into the hallway with my surgical grade new socks was not an option!

As important as the proper underwear is for a woman's health visit, it is much, much more important to have clean, new SOCKS!

After all, the doctor never sees the underwear, he does however get a lovely display of your new white socks, or dingy, dirty ones as might be the case if you don't take measures to properly prepare yourself for this yearly ritual.

He does in fact, see more of your socked feet during the exam than your face after all, and who wants the lasting impression of the man so deeply immersed in your genitalia to be of your poor housekeeping!

So, I always buy new socks for my yearly physical!

I quickly put on a pair of lesser important "house socks" over my "in the doctor's face, new socks" and went running around for the perfect "WEIGH ME, I'M THINNER" shoes...

I slipped on the twenty-year old running sneakers with no shoe laces that I'll be able to quickly slide off my feet while the nurse is reassuring me that taking them off won't make a difference on the scale!

And I was out the door!

I jumped in the car determined not to be late for my date with my gynecologist.

As I rode there I called ahead to confirm my appointment and to see if the doctor was on schedule.

"Ms. Hernandez do you see Dr. John or Dr. Joe?"

"Dr. John." I responded with slight hesitation...

I mean I SHOULD know with certainty the first name of the man who has such intimate relations with me, more frequently than most because of my medical history, the DR. VA-JAY-JAY SUPER HERO with his trustee nurse side-kick!

"Yes. Dr. John." I repeated, confidently this time.

"We're right on time! See you when you get here!"

As I hung up the phone I found myself thinking about how beautiful it is to have a child follow the footsteps of their parent's work...

Who am I kidding!?

My first REAL reaction upon learning that it was a father/son practice was,

"Hmmm, I wonder how THAT happened!?"

My career dream and path in college was to be a physician and what a wonderful trade to help bring children into the world, but it's not quite the same as showing your child how to throw a football or how to make that perfect souffle...

Most parents have a difficult time of explaining the birds and the bees to their children... I guess that conversation went pretty well in that family!


The two hours of preparation that went into my frequent woman's medical ritual culminated in the satisfaction of being congratulated on my weight loss, the polite handshake and hello from my doctor as we both avoided eye contact, and as I assumed the position and reminisced about all of my morning anxiety, I asked myself,

"Why don't I have a FEMALE GYNECOLOGIST?!"

I stifled a giggle at my personal inquisition when I heard the doctor's trusty nurse sidekick say,

"Dorana, how do you always keep your socks so WHITE!"

SUCCESS!!

MOST EMBARRASSING MOMENT CONTEST!

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PRIZE: TWO PAIRS of myDesign Interchangeable Charms from dorana.etsy.com!
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To view all entries go to:

MOST EMBARRASSING MOMENT CONTEST

ANNOUNCING THE WINNER... antb.etsy.com

Thank you all for your entries and the laughter you shared with us over the weekend! I want to also send a HUGE hug to AngelHeartBeads.etsy.com our contest RUNNER UP!

Please join me in congratulating both winners of my contest - they will each receive TWO PAIR of myDesign Interchangeable Charms from dorana.etsy.com!

WINNING SUBMISSIONS
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antb.etsy.com - "Never Go Diving Into Swim Trunks Blindly!"

On my honeymoon, we were at a hotel with a pool. Only new hubby and I were in the pool area, so I decided to get frisky with him. I swam under water to him. The chlorine was bad, so I only peeked a moment while swimming to find him, and then played a little feely-feely with him.

I stood up only to find a very surprised stranger who had my hand in his trunks. He had gotten in while I was underwater.

AngelHeartBeads.etsy.com - ""I CAN'T FEEL MY FACE!" - This story SUCKS!"(WARNING: Adult Content!)

Okay, well... lets see. This is graphic but no foul language! Beware!!!

1998, and I'm in college - and lets say - inexperienced. My boyfriend at the time and I were dating not too terribly long, but long enough where we were intimate. Well, one night he wanted a BJ... and I really had a bad gag reflex. So, he suggested that we go to the porn store, and get something to numb my throat. At this time in my life, I was pretty much good with trying anything once - so off we went to the porn store. We purchase this jar of stuff called "Gag reflex cream" and go back to the dorm.

There were no instructions at all on this - only said "apply to the back of your throat". So me, being stupid, take a nice big ol' wad of the crap and swallow it down. About a minute into the "Act" my entire face has now seized up and gone numb. My tongue wagging out of my mouth like a dog panting for water. I couldn't retract it. I'm hysterical. I can't feel my face. I can't move my tongue. Drool has now started to slither out of my mouth like a stampede of snails on the run from a predator. My boyfriend starts to freak out, which only upsets me more.

If you've never had the pleasure of experiencing complete face, tongue, and throat numbness, then you will never understand the trauma of trying desperately NOT to choke to death on your own spit while crying so hard you start to dry heave.

The only thing to do would be go to the hospital. But no, I couldn't possibly. What would I say? I over dosed on porn store gag cream so I could give my boyfriend head? Could you imagine this being told my Marine father and overly possessive mother? Surely, we couldn't go to the hospital. I feared for my life - and my face at this point.

I'm sobbing and my boyfriend is freaking out and yelling - which only makes me more upset. He's yelling, I'm crying, and heaving, which has now started involuntary farting. The more upset he got, the more upset I became - until the inevitable moment I dreaded.

I puked in his lap. Directly on Mr. Woo-Woo.

Thankfully, my face, tongue, and throat FINALLY recovered after a few hours - but the shame and humility of that night will live on forever.

I didn't see much of my former flame after that experience. And I'm pretty sure he's scarred for life from ever having oral again.

That, my friends, is my most embarrassing moment to date.

Laughter is the Best Medicine - A Vision

As the days become increasingly shorter and the air's bite gets sharper, and the day's endless list of tasks keeps getting longer - the opportunity for my daily walks with Lance, my 13 year old yellow lab, gets shorter and shorter. But I was determined yesterday to get away from work and the computer before the darkness settled in and when he saw me grab the leash off the hook on the wall, the "smile" on his face was priceless!

It was about 4:30PM EST and the afternoon sky was glowing a faint gray; not yet dark but the light of the sun had definitely been extinguished. Lance, who ordinarily gallops outside with no particular destination other than opposite where he's suppose to be in our yard, stayed close to my heel in anticipation of being strapped to his leash for our walk. As I fumbled with the clasp and his collar, my hands felt that momentary tingling of cold that makes you shake loose the sleeve of your shirt to cover your hands quickly from that shocking effect of the first realization that next time, you should remember to grab the gloves on your way out!

We avoided the traditional walk through the field and the park. While in bed the night before, I was shocked to hear the howling of coyotes pretty close to the development and the creepiness of it made me nervous so late in the day... I steered him up the main hill of our townhouse community towards the street parallel to ours. As we trotted up the hill I pulled on his leash dragging him off the curb while he tried to sniff every falling leaf and I fumbled with the wrapper of a snack-sized Snickers that I stole from the basket next to the front door left over from Halloween; fumbling of course, as I tried to open the wrapper with my hands, half hidden in my Old Navy sweatshirt!

As we turned the curb onto the next street, I let Lance win the tug-of-war as he pulled me onto the curb with him and I giggled as I caught the now freed tiny Snickers bite, before dropping it. I let him drag me along as I tried to dig my hands back into the upper warmth of my sleeves and I finally looked up to appreciate the lingering colorful leaves on their branches.

As we walked along I noticed a neighbor inside her lit garage packing the back of her SUV while her large black dog with a bright blue collar sat directly behind the truck looking out at us. I instinctively clutched Lance's leash tighter and looked down at him. When he was younger he would excitedly bolt after anything that moved! With age he wags his tail when he sees people, completely ignores small dogs as if he couldn't be bothered with them, but he still gets excited when he comes across large dogs...

He looked up, wagged his tail, pulled forward a little and then went back to sniffing the ground around him again. I stood there a little perplexed as I looked back towards the open garage door. The woman waved as I greeted her with a "hi!" and Lance and I continued walking as we reached the driveway where she stood directly in front of us. I turned towards her again and stood there in absolute SHOCK and audibly gasped when she grabbed the large dog by his bright blue collar and flung him over her shoulder and threw him into the back of the truck!

I must have blinked what seemed like a hundred times in the instant it took for her to throw the dog over her head and into the truck.

"Oh my god!" I screamed!

Awestricken and almost paralyzed by what I had witnessed, I walked forward towards her and in the first fraction of a second of thought, wondered quite frankly, if the Bionic Woman had been living up on the hill from me all this time and I had just witnessed her secret powers and in the second fraction of a second a strange haunting wave of fear took over me as I hastened my pace up the freakishly long driveway, worried about the dog that was just thrown like a rag doll into the back of the truck!

And then I froze.

It was as if I was having an out of body experience... seeing myself in a wide panoramic sweep of the neighborhood as I stood in the middle of this driveway with my left hand limp at my side, my dog standing there looking at me startled and my other hand clutching my chest in sheer shock and surprise.

And then it happened...

The laughter!

...the kind of laughter that starts deep inside you - in a place whose very existence because of the seriousness of everyday life, I sometimes question.

I laughed and laughed. I turned and started walking away as my laughter echoed through the neighborhood louder and louder! The tears started covering my face and my cheeks began to burn as I gasped for air in between my bursts of giggles! I bent down trying to gather my composure as Lance licked my face of my tears and the laughter continued!

When was the last time you laughed until you cried and just kept laughing?! The last time you laughed without covering your mouth or stifling the giggles - just opened your mouth and laughed OUT LOUD not worrying about anyone around you and what they must be thinking!

Lance and I started walking again as I continued my laughing and grabbed my phone to call my mom at work to tell her about the Bionic Woman who lives in my neighborhood!

If my laughter had begun to subside before calling her to tell her my story, the recollection of it renewed my hysteria! It took me forever to get out the details of my "vision" between my impolite laughter!

Finally, as the now infectious DLV (Dorana Laughter Virus) had taken its course, she asked,

"So, was it a stuffed animal?"

Her question renewed my fit of giggles as I manage to get out,

"No!

It was a big, black GARBAGE BAG WITH BLUE HANDLES!

I NEED GLASSES!"

I spent the rest of the walk calling my friends and sharing my newly discovered diagnoses spreading the Dorana Laugh Virus for the next several hours, wondering if it would still be so funny when I could tell my story to my boyfriend hours later.

Three hours later as I drove home from running the evening errands, I pulled my car over to the side of the road unable to see through my tears of laughter, telling my story to my best friend, I gasped in hysterics,

"It's STILL FUNNY!"