Mysteries

If you'd like to know why I disappeared for a thousand years (you noticed, right?), you can blame all the committees and boards I volunteered to join. You guys, I realized I don't have any hobbies because I sit on conference calls and task forces in my free time. (It's not sad. Shut up.) I'm going to start scheduling time for blog posts so I don't overbook myself.

ANYWAY, I didn't come here today to talk about my schedule. I'm here because there are three things that have me absolutely baffled, so naturally I turn to you. Your insight would be welcome, should you have any. In no particular order...

1. This November, I opened my mailbox to an issue of Vogue. Prepared to make the snowy trek to a neighbor's house to deliver their misplaced mail, I checked the address label. Me. My house.

Hmm. I did not subscribe to Vogue. I flipped through it and put it aside, convinced it was a weird glitch or one of those targeted campaigns where you get a couple issues of something but it's not really a subscription? And then another issue arrived in December. And January. I don't dislike Vogue, but I don't subscribe to any magazines. (Except, apparently, Vogue.) I'm confident I didn't do this. I logged onto the website with my subscription number and was rather surprised to find that I'm paid up for a year.

Did I drunkenly sign up for this? Or was I sleep shopping? I went and checked all my accounts--bank statement, credit card. I went back months. I investigated anything that wasn't explicitly labeled Target or Kroger or a coffee shop, to be sure. (Don't judge me, internet.) I looked at orders from other places to make sure I didn't sign up accidentally. I asked facebook, hoping a friend would say, "Oh, you got my gift!" Nothing.

Internet, I have no idea how I came into this Vogue subscription. It is still coming, and I suspect it will arrive until October. In the meantime, at least I'm set when I have a flight to catch. Who's saving $5 per trip? This girl. 

2. I bought a purse. I needed a new clutch to take to weddings and fancy events and yes, I know what you're thinking--you go to shitloads of weddings, Amanda. Are you telling us you don't have one of those by now? No. That's not what I'm saying. I have several, but I bought most of them in my flip phone era--and none of them hold my smart phone. I've been slowly upgrading.

It was no problem. I found a lovely gold one at Target, big enough for my phone and a wedding favor and even a flask, if necessary. A tag boasted "detachable crossbody strap"! 

Y'all. 

This is not a detachable crossbody strap. Ok...I guess technically it is. I can wear it across my body, assuming I like deodorant and sweat all over my purse. And sure, the strap is detachable--it's just not going to reattach easily. 

Who added that tag and do they still have a job?

3. I ordered Victoria's Secret online and when it arrived...I was disappointed. It should have fit a certain way and I was so, so wrong. The next day, I tried it on again, convinced that I had put it on wrong or something. Can you put on underwear wrong at 30 years old? Does that happen? Worth a shot, right?

 Nope, still not a good fit. And then I noticed the tag--a size smaller than I ordered. 

I berated myself for being an idiot, and pulled up my order confirmation email. Nope, I ordered the correct size. I checked the invoice--wrong size listed. So there must have been a--wait a second.

That name and address are not me. 

Ok. VS sent my order to a random in New Jersey and their order to me. Great taste, you one-size-smaller bitch in New Jersey, but what the fuck? I was not pleased--maybe you saw my tweets. I mean, who wants their underwear shipped to a stranger, along with their name and address?? I emailed their customer service department and heard back quickly. A replacement order arrived 36 hours later. 

I assumed we were all set. Until I got a letter in the mail, a couple weeks later, from Victoria's Secret. Addressed to RESIDENT. I shit you not. 

Dear RESIDENT, 

We fucked up--can you help?

NOPE. First of all, you have my name on file, VS. Seriously. Second of all, YOU ALREADY DEALT WITH THIS. I mean, I'm still irritated that my shit went somewhere else, but you did in fact handle the situation. I returned the missent items the next day. We reversed the Parent Trap. Things are good. A horrible letter to RESIDENT (my mom opened that, thanks) does not help anyone. How did this happen? 

Help me understand, internet. 

Your Friendly Neighborhood Cable Company

Yesterday I received a letter from my cable provider. It's a general hey thanks for sticking with us, there's a slight change in our channel lineup letter. Nothing noteworthy. What is noteworthy, I noticed as I got to the bottom, is the CEO. It's a woman--she's CEO and Chairwoman of the Board. Considering how many companies and organizations are run exclusively by men, I'm sad to say that I was happy to see that. 

And then I looked closer. She's not just the CEO and Chairwoman of the Board. Between her name and those titles, there is another line--different titles. "Hugger, Mother, Keeper of the Culture." 

I shit you not. 

My irritation flared up, which will surprise exactly zero of you. You really should hear the first draft of most of my rants--this was no exception. You're a damn CEO! I don't care if you like hugs--I care that you're taking care of my cable and internet! My internet doesn't need a hug! Don't bring your maternal instincts into this! DO YOUR JOB. 

I'm not proud of it, but part of me was mad that this woman in charge was putting out this silly image. I'm so tired of being asked if I need a tampon when I'm having a bad day. I had an imaginary conversation with this CEO, asking her how she could be taken seriously when the first word after her name on letters is "hugger." 

Once I calmed down and paced my living room a little, I headed over to Google. This is not exclusive to the CEO, it would seem. WOW! Cable (Please do not get me started on their name. Please.) wants you to know that their employees aren't just employees--they're people, too. Each of them gets a "brand signature"--titles for their non-work life. This was done to humanize their employees, since people really hate cable companies. The idea is that if I'm on the phone, irate and wanting answers, I'll chill out and be nicer to the guy on the other end if I know he's a Jazz Enthusiast and Fly Fisher, rather than just The Guy Who Probably Screwed Up My Cable Bill. 

Alright. So it's everyone. That made me feel a little better. It wasn't the CEO alone. Then I asked myself how I would have felt if the letter had come from a man, with his brand signature listed with his job title. Would "Family Guy, Sports Fan, Person of Faith" have caused the same reaction? (That's the President's title, in case you're curious.) Yes. Yes, it would have. I realized it's not about being taken seriously as a woman in business--it's about being taken seriously in business. You're in charge of a cable company. I don't care what you do in your free time--that's totally up to you. What I do care about is the service you're providing me. Your passion for keeping the culture (whatever the fuck that means) weighs exactly zero on my decision to stick with you or switch companies. 

Moreover, I had no idea this was some company quirk until I did my research. I didn't think the author was human, I thought she was too eccentric to head up a cable company. It requires too much explanation--this is hardly common knowledge. (Particularly for a regional company. If Google did this, or Disney, or Apple...we'd probably have read about it on The Huffington Post by now.) It feels like an inside joke that I wasn't privy to. 

So, readers, I ask you--am I the only one not charmed by this "brand signature" nonsense? Does it change your image of cable companies if you know the CFO is a dog lover?