"No Engrish!"

Alternate Title: Compel me, dammit!

Since I've been working from home lately after the conclusion of my project out in the suburbs, I have finally understood why my answering machine gets so much action each day. For a while now, I've been pretty good with identifying telemarketing calls. A telltale sign would be the silence lasting about a second or two after you make a sound before someone picks up the phone and say, "Hello!"

Well, I've been bored lately. So I decided to see who these people are. On Tuesday, Sprint was the lucky recipient of my curiosity. Instead of saying the usual lame things like, "Maybe I'm John, maybe I'm not," or speaking in tongues (a mix between pig Latin and stuff I made up, or "Please help me, I killed the lady but she's too big for me to carry!" I decided to actually respond nicely.

And this Indian guy with a motor mouth who can probably speak a sentence in half the time I would take was telling me about how he can give me a free Sprint phone that was better than what I have, as well as a rate plan better than what I'm paying for. Of course, I got curious, because how did he know what kind of a phone I had? The conversation went something like this, and it would really help if you imagine an accent similar to Apu's:

Sprint: May I ask what kind of phone you have?

John: Sure! It's a Nokia N91.

Sprint: Uh-huh. John sir, I can give you a better phone! And best of all, it's free!

John: Okay, do you know what the N91 is?

Sprint: No, sir. But I can give you a better phone! You'll be amazed!

John: Okay, but why will I be amazed? What features does the phone have?

Sprint: It gives you early night calling, sir! It starts at 19:00 instead of 21:00!

John: Wait. That has nothing to do with the phone. Why would I want a free phone? Compel me!

Sprint: It has a color screen, and it can play music, sir!

John: Did you know that my N91 is an advanced smart phone, with a 4 GB drive for music, PDA functionality, WiFi and Bluetooth connectivity?

Sprint: I see. But this phone is better. And it's free!

John: Okay, but you haven't really described the phone to me, and I'm not convinced it is better than my Nokia.

Sprint: [feeling frustrated, so began to raise voice.] John sir, I'm giving you free phone! Why don't you want it?!?

[A crackle came on immediately, and a woman's authoritative voice chimed in.]

Sprint 2: Stay focused on the call.

John: Hello? What was that?

Sprint: Who do you have for your service?

John: AT&T.

Sprint: What kind of a rate plan do you have, and how much do you pay?

John: I have 900 rollover minutes, early night and weekend calls at 19:00, and unlimited data access for the Internet. And I pay $60 for it. [A lie.]

Sprint: John sir, Sprint can offer you a better plan!

John: Really? Please tell me more about it.

Sprint: Just for today, I can offer you a plan that you can't get anywhere else. For $49, you can get 450 minutes with early night and weekend calls!

John: Wait a minute. How is that better than my plan?

Sprint: John sir, it's easy. You are paying $60, and with Sprint, you'll be paying less!

John: Sure, I'm paying less, but it's not the same number of minutes.

Sprint: But you pay less!

John: Does it have data access?

Sprint: Yes sir.

John: So how much data allowance do I have a month?

Sprint: I don't know, sir. So you would like to sign up with Sprint?

John: No, I'm not ready yet. I'm still confused. You didn't answer me. Does the $49 plan include data access?

Sprint: No, but you can get it for a very nominal fee, sir. So where should I send you the free phone?

John: Okay, what is nominal? How much is nominal? Do I pay as I go? How much is it for 1 MB of data transfer? Or what kind of additional packages can I get? I want to know how much it would be for unlimited data access.

Sprint: John sir, don't worry, the data fee is very nominal, sir.

John: You keep on saying nominal, but I need to know the exact figure. Don't you have that in your pricing sheet?

Sprint: John sir, I don't know what a pricing sheet is.

John: But you're a salesperson!

Sprint: So do you want to sign up with Sprint? Clearly we can offer better phone and plan for you.

John: Wait. I am not yet convinced that you can offer a better rate, much less a better phone!

Sprint: But you don't have to pay for the phone!

John: Okay, if I do sign up for the service, you would have to record your statements and questions along with my responses with all the details regarding the verbal contract. So obviously for that reason you cannot use arbitrary terms like nominal. So what is the data fee?

Sprint: Great! So you want to sign up with Sprint! Is this your correct address...?

John: Wait, did you not listen to what I said?

So this goes on and on and on, with him going around in circles and not providing me with any real, concrete information. After seeing that I had been on the phone with this poor guy for over 20 minutes, I finally said, "Look, you're doing a poor job convincing me why you have a better phone and better rate plan, and you won't provide real details. I wouldn't hire you as my salesperson if I needed to sell something. You could have spent the last 20 minutes making at least 10 other calls."

The poor guy finally responded, "Have a good day, sir," before hanging up hastily.

Seriously, what the hell, right? So I forgot about the whole thing, until my friend and I were chatting about the iPhone and cellular phone service yesterday. He then brought to my attention about how Sprint cancelled over 1,000 contracts for customers who called customer service too much. I didn't hear about it, so I did a little research. Surely enough, Sprint did cancel subscribers who either called customer service too much, or roamed too much (although those serving in the Armed Forces will have their cancellations rescinded after catching hell). I spent over an hour reading everything I could about the whole thing.

Then the strangest thing happened. Another Sprint salesperson called right after I was done talking with my friend about Sprint, as if she felt her ears ringing and had the urge to call me up. With the news of Sprint's unreasonable contract cancellation still fresh in my mind, I promptly asked her, "Before I consider joining Sprint, may I ask will my contract be cancelled if I call the customer service too often?"

Her response was, "If you want."

I was actually speechless at her reply. Obviously, these Sprint salespeople were not trained to listen! If she had understood my question, she wouldn't have given such a ridiculous answer. So I just hung up on her, and forgot about it.

Then today, Sprint called me yet again! Damn! Sprint is sure persistent. And I don't blame them; especially they have the highest churn rate in the cellular service industry as well as the only cellular service company to lose money this year. After I picked up the phone, the following happened:

Sprint: Good morning, sir! How are you?

John: [thinking that the voice sounded familiar…] I'm fine. And how about yourself?

Sprint: I'm calling from Sprint, and I have a good deal for you!

John: Uhm, I just asked how you're doing. How are you?

Sprint: John sir, Sprint has... [A pause...]

John: Yes?

Sprint: No Engrish! [Click!]

The same bastard from Tuesday just called and hung up on me!!! I can't believe he actually told me he couldn't speak English! Oh my gosh! That was way too funny...

Bad Server, Bad!

Today was the opening night of The Simpsons movie. I admit I was rather excited about the whole affair. So before heading down to the friendly downtown Cineplex, I decided to have dinner with Jane* and her youngest brother. After some brainstorming, we all agreed to Café Mysterious**, one of my favorite restaurants. If you don't know me by now, Café Mysterious is the place I take all my first dates to, if not the second. Because the restaurant is simply that good, I also take my visiting friends from out of town there as well.

Anyway, my friend Jane is not exactly one to know her wines. I do, but only to the extent of red wines. Ask me something about white wines, and the most I know is that they probably have to be served chilled. As a result, Jane always rely on me to pick out red wines, and tonight was no different as she told me to pick one out while she left for the wash room.

After Lauren***, our designated server, brought us our wine and appetizer, we all started enjoying our food and fresh, warm sourdough bread. The first thing I noticed was that our wine glasses were not clean. For the most part, they were dried on, indicating they were probably harmless water spots. Save for mine, which had a tiny greasy streak. But having confirmed that it was on the outside of the glass, I simply forgot about it.

Before our main course arrived, I suddenly noticed something as I was tipping my wine glass back after having had four or so sips of the 2005 Chateau Ste Michelle Syrah. Sediments! That's not unusual, but it warranted an investigation nonetheless. I gently swirled my glass around, tilted it, and watched through the ambient light cast by the dining room. Gasp! What a pity that such a good tasting wine was contaminated by excessive sediments! Some sediment is okay, but a lot of it is not exactly good for the aftertaste.

So I promptly picked up Jane's glass as well, and surely enough, hers was just as bad. I explained briefly to the table that our wine had excessive sediments, and that possible reasons may include poor quality corks breaking down, or that whoever opened the bottle broke the cork in the bottle. Of course, the only exception to this is when you have really old wine, when decades of years have naturally broken down the cork little by little. Alas, our wine was only two years old though. And Chateau Ste Michelle is by no means a vintner with poor quality products, as it was named 2005 Winery of the Year by Restaurant Wine Magazine!

When Lauren returned to ask if everything was okay, I did not hesitate for a second to mention this problem to her. Instead of promptly taking care of the situation and understanding such a simple and common problem, she actually took the time to talk back at me. I was not sure what could possibly made her think that she had the audacity to drop her poor customer service skills, but I suspected that she thought we were all young kids. First, we had an underage boy at the table. Second, I was wearing a Dave Matthews Band t-shirt and jean shorts with brightly colored shoes. I did have reservations about the age-inappropriate clothing that I had selected before leaving the house, but it was a hot day so I went forth with it.

Without batting an eye, her response was, "That's a Syrah, and that's how it is." I was so shocked at her response, that I simply just stared at her in disbelief. After a few seconds, I snapped myself out of the unimaginable that a server actually flat-out lied to me. I countered, "What? No, that's not."

Instead of asking how I would like for the problem to be resolved, she just asked what was wrong. I tried to explain why it was a problem, but she interrupted me to ask if I would like another glass, or have another type of wine. I replied that this is such a menial and common problem that I would like to still enjoy the same wine, but just without the sediments. After all, the only other Shiraz/Syrah wine they had was a 2005 Rosemount Estates, which I am a proud collector of, from 2001 onward. I even suggested that this was a common problem that I'd be happy if she returned with an empty glass and a strainer. (I didn't expect a restaurant with limited selection of wine would have a decanter.) But she insisted again if I would like another glass or another type of wine. So we decided to get another glass of the same wine.

Before Lauren left, she made sure the remaining party was doing well. That was when my dear friend Jane decided to slowly enunciate, "My wine is perfectly fine. Thank you very much." Lauren asked again, "Are you sure?" because we both had the same wine. Jane again enunciated slowly, "Yes, thank you very much. My wine is just perfect." Not only did she totally undermine my discontent with the bad wine and poor customer service, I thought I detected some underlying attitude that hinted at: "Unlike some people who just like to be difficult, I'm just fine."

I could have been wrong and misinterpreted the purpose of the slow enunciation, but I was still not pleased that she undermined me. My appetite began to wane, despite the fact that I had woken up around noon today and had not had anything to eat all day.

When Lauren finally returned, she handed me another glass of wine and said, "There is nothing wrong with the wine. It was the last bottle, and I was told that if it was bad, it would have smelled bad." I noticed that the wine glass was spotlessly clean. Then she hit the final nail into the coffin: "We opened up another bottle, and it was exactly the same. Like I said, this is normal."

WAIT A MINUTE! So was it the last bottle that I had, or was there another bottle all of a sudden?!? I immediately suspected that she probably just poured the same wine I had into another glass, and in the process did not even use a strainer! After a short thank you, I drank out of the new glass and surely enough, there was just as much sediment in there. By this time, I have lost all my appetite. Not only did Lauren do nothing about it, but my friend who knew nothing about wine totally wine-blocked me with her undermining (think cock-blocking, except for wines, if that even make any sense).

Anyone who knows me well will understand that I love food. Some friends even call me either the bottomless pit or the garbage disposal, because I will also eat their food that they couldn't finish. I even eat when I am sick! In all of my adult life, I can only think of just one other time when I totally lost my appetite seriously. And that was March 11, 2006, a date that will live forever in infamy in the history of my life. It was the fifth and final date with a certain someone, when we broke up after a huge argument. It went something like this: Why haven't I spent the night at her place by this time? I was bombarded with either I like her or don't like her, and that there was no such thing as taking it slow to know each other more. I was given the ultimatum that if I wasn't seriously in love with her, it was over. My empty response did us in, because I liked her, but I wasn't ready to start thinking about marriage. When someone asked, "What are you waiting for? My ass isn't going to look like this forever!" you tend to think that she was looking for a long term relationship. It didn't help that she was a few years senior of me, although it didn't bother me at all initially.

Anyway, I digressed. So Lauren and I began to debate. Who the hell in their right mind will have a little debate with the customer? Seeing how Jane just rolled her eyes, I finally gave up, and proclaimed, "Well, in that case, I guess I know absolutely nothing about wine, and you do." I really wanted to quiz her on two questions: 1) What is the difference between Shiraz and Syrah, and 2) What makes Shiraz/Syrah a different kind of red than anything else. But I was so upset with her un-professionalism and unwilling to rectify the problem that nothing she could do would revive my lost appetite. I simply wanted her out of my sight, so I just thanked her again, set my wine down and watched my friend and her brother eat.

I really wanted to just up and leave because I was upset at the server and my friend, but I couldn't. I couldn't possibly show my anger in front of a 13 year old boy (although I think he probably knew I was upset). I really wanted to say, "Fuck this shit," but that would then cast the appearance that I was the unreasonable person in front of all the other patrons. Besides, there was no point in ruining other peoples' dinner at one of my favorite restaurants, which I still plan on returning (while making sure I don't get served by Lauren P #213 ever again). Furthermore, even if Jane's brother wasn't there, I didn't have the heart to leave my friend there all alone, just because I had some beef with a lying server.

Of course, other reasons why I couldn't just leave were because I had The Simpsons to catch right thereafter, and for the mere fact that sitting next to us, which I had a great view of, was the hoochy girls recently graduated from high school. Damn, I tell ya, the short, short skirts they were wearing. And the one purposely bent over with her ass sticking out at me? Those hooches were just craving attention, and I was more than happy to oblige. If they weren't there, and Jane wasn't a good friend, I would've been out the door right there with just enough cash to cover the food.

What I didn't get is why would Lauren lie to me with a preposterous statement without thought? Not only was that an instant dead giveaway that she knew absolutely nothing about wine, but she felt the need to argue with me! I felt like a poor girl at a used car lot being taken advantage of by some slimy used car salesperson: "Oh, that isn't rust. That is the new, popular coat of paint that just came out!" If that was some other kind of wine, like Zinfandel or any white, then I would have totally believed her without a heartbeat. But here we were, talking about red wine, and not only that, but my absolute favorite kind of red which I am extremely knowledgeable about no less! Grr!

Lucky for her, Jane paid the bill, for otherwise I would have left Lauren no tip and a long letter to management a week later. In my many years of traveling for work, I have been nice and friendly to the wait staff just because I was in that profession at one point in my college youth, and yet I rarely met anyone who would flat-out lie. I have come across some, including bartenders, who didn't know what a Shiraz/Syrah is, but they were pretty straightforward about their lack of knowledge and were willing to learn, because I honestly believe they wanted to know more so they can impress the next customer. But Lauren P Server #213? She was by far leaps and bounds worse than the next worst server I have ever encountered. I think she may have created a whole new class of shitty servers!

Let's just hope she was unique and unlike the general populace of the smart, if not decent, servers in the food industry out there. And I hope when she graduates from college, she better not enter into any kind of client-facing profession.


* Name changed to protect the not-so-innocent.
** Restaurant name changed to protect the secret location of my first/second dates.
*** Name not changed to expose the poor, lazy liar.


Tips, just for your information

When opening a bottle of wine, pull the cork out slowly. Right before the cork is completely removed, hold the end of the cork closest to the bottle and gently twist it out instead of pulling it straight out.

If there is excessive amount of sediment, or if the cork breaks up in the bottle, then you can filter the wine into a decanter. If nothing else, use a coffee filter and a funnel.

When opening red wines, especially older ones, it is a good practice to always decant it for up to half an hour. Before opening, let it sit upright for 24 hours. When pouring into a decanter, stop pouring when any sediment starts spilling into the neck of the bottle (best seen with a light source behind the bottle).

Forget all that jazz you memorized from the movie Sideways. Those things they look for are extraordinary professionals and enthusiasts who can detect miniscule levels of TCA contamination in wines, as well as separating all the flavors and scents that encompasses the wine. Normal people like you and I should try not to pretend to distinguish such tastes, other than the primary and underlying flavors. It only makes you look like a wannabe and a fake. And I hate it when I see people my age who have only begun drinking wine in the last few years talk about tannins and other shit.