image via CreativeCommons.org

Do you think you’re being crystal clear when you’re REALLY clear as mud? We operate (myself included) on a certain set of assumptions. WE understand things, so other people must as well, right? It’s like (in my case at least) The Rules According to Erika. (Not related to The World According to Garp, though a completely brilliant tale.)

Some things don’t translate.

We live in a world where emoticons supposedly clarify out intentions, but what do we do when we have to (gasp) be ourselves and communicate with someone real-time?

I’ll tell ya: we either hit a home run or fuck it up royally.

What are YOU losing in translation?

In early November, I bought a new Mini. Her name is Beatrice Olivia (hello, Beatrice). She is the first new car I’ve bought since I was twenty-years-old. It was a major purchase decision (albeit, one executed out of angst as following Jason’s death, I needed to keep moving…this was a way to keep moving). I was excited.

Now, over a month later, I’m not excited. Three trips back to the dealership to deal with a bike rack issue (resulting in – “wow, they just don’t work for your bikes” when my bikes are normal road bikes) and a bomb dropped in my lap yesterday about registering my new car and how the dealership has lost the specialty plates from my trade-in, I’m wondering what got lost in translation.

Now, I like to consider myself a smarter-than-the-average-bear consumer. I read shit before I sign it. I’m wondering what got lost when I learned yesterday that the State of Colorado doesn’t allow car dealerships to collect all the taxes and registration fees for when you buy a car. A discovery that will now cost me about $500 when I walk into the DMV to pick up my plates (something else I didn’t know I had to do).

I bought a car like I’ve always done. Considering I’ve owned (yes) fourteen cars, I felt the process went as it always had:

• I sign financing and POA documents for the car and registration.
• They give me keys and a temporary tag.
• I drive away.
• Dealership calls me when I can come pick up my plates, which were removed from my trade in and I figure they’re holding until the registration and transfer if complete.

But no. This is how it went down with Ralph Schomp Mini in Littleton, CO:

• I sign financing and POA documents for the car and registration.
• They give me keys and a temporary tag.
• I drive away.
• I bring the car back for aftermarket accessory installation and ask them to look at an idling problem. They say the first tank of gas I’ve put in my car is “bad gas.” Funny. Even though I’ve owned 14 cars, seems odd that the first tank of gas I put in my new one is bad. But shit happens, right? I apparently need to run the tank out, fill up again and it’s going to take a few thousand miles for my new BMW product to “break in.”
• I take my car home. My bikes don’t fit on the bike racks properly. I call the dealership and make an appointment to come in.
• I take car to dealership. Huh. You’re right, Ms. Napoletano. The bike racks don’t work with your bikes for some reason. That’s odd. Why don’t you check with Rocky Mounts in Boulder for aftermarket racks?
• I check with Rocky Mounts. Yup – they see this all the time. I get information and call my salesperson. Salesperson now says that I have to come BACK to the dealership to have the racks removed, as they’ll only process the refund once the racks are back in Mini’s possession. Then they’ll cut me a check for the cost of the racks and I can go to Rocky Mounts for new racks.
• I return to the dealership for the THIRD time to have my bike racks removed. I also ask about the title/registration on my car. Joe in service (who is awesome) says he’ll have Phil (sales manager) call me as he’s looking into that right now. Car still idles rough (we’re now about 1600 miles into ownership).
• Phil calls. Says something about me calling the county. I say where are my plates? The ones you took off my old car. He’s aghast that I don’t have them. He’ll look into it.
• Salesperson calls me. Dumbfounded, saying he has a pretty good memory and doesn’t know what the heck has happened to my plates. So I ask him what the deal is with my registration. He says that I’ll need to take the postcard notice I got from Denver County down to the Licensing office and get my plates. I say, “So, the fees are taken care of. Are there any additional fees I’m going to have to pay when I go down there?” He says, yes. A couple hundred bucks is what I’m looking at. Me? I’m like WTF.
• Redhead stops being nice. I explain that this has been the worst car buying experience of my life, from the moment I filled up the tank. He needs to have his sales manager call me ASAP.
• Sales manager calls, I explain the Worst Car Buying Experience of My Life
  • Multiple trips to the dealership inside of 30 days, all for the same issue
  • Dealership has lost my Bicycle Colorado plates which cost me $50 to obtain
  • My plates are now wandering around in the ether and MY name is attached to them
  • The dealership failed to inform me that I will have additional vehicle licensing fees due (approximately $461 in ownership tax and $40-60 in licensing) at the DMV in order to complete registration on my new car.
• Sales manager says the best he can do it “throw money at the situation.” I have a check coming for $349 and change for my roof rack refund and he’ll round it up to $500 for my trouble. Also says I’m the first customer ever who has not been aware that Colorado (and apparently Wyoming) do things differently from the other 48 states when it comes to what a dealer handles for you at purchase. I suggested a piece of paper called “Registering Your New Vehicle In Colorado” for nimrods like myself who have lived here a mere 2 years.
• There are WAY too many bullets above, right?

Now, Ralph Schomp Mini wants me to be a satisfied customer – this I get. But does $150 really compensate me for a month of consternation and a car that still doesn’t run properly? Honestly, I’ve never had a new car that’s needed to “break in.” Maybe that’s another reason to buy used ones. But there was a lot lost in translation in my buying experience, from a sales and management staff that loaded me down with apologies and mostly skipped the solutions to the fact that I’m leaving on December 27 to drive about 2500 miles with 2 bikes, 2 dogs and 2 cats in/on my Mini Cooper and I now have a shitload to deal with. New bike racks, registering my car, moving money from one account to the other (something I only do once a month) to foot a surprise $500 bill for registration and additional taxes.

This is all shit that could have been avoided by not assuming a customer knows things. By going the extra mile and taking the bike racks off when I was at the dealership the SECOND time. By the sales staff telling me that the Service Manager himself has aftermarket bike racks. By noticing that my car was purchased in Nevada and knowing I’d only lived in Colorado for 2 years (barely).

What are YOU missing in translation with your customers? Take a moment. Breathe. Help set expectations. Otherwise, you’re going to end up with a customer like me who knows their way around the interwebz and shares her experience. I’m hoping Ralph Schomp Mini in Littleton, Colorado will take a look at this situation and understand what’s been done wrong. Throughout the whole bike rack fiasco, I even asked them if they wanted pictures to send to their product development team so they could make their bike racks better. They declined.

Alas, it looks like that at present, there is one thing that hasn’t been lost in translation: my Mini Cooper has a 3 year/36,000 mile bonnet-to-bumper maintenance-free policy. Whether they realize it or not, they’re stuck with me for the next three years, and I can be their biggest fan or the customer they wish they’d pleased when they had the opportunity.

Translation. People don’t read minds. They don’t know what you know. You have to tell them. And tell them straight. So….get to tellin’, mkay?

Yes, it’s true. You can win your very own I Give a FCK. Well, ten of you can, at least.

If you’re a long-time reader, you know my stance on Proposition 8 (better known as Proposition H8). Yesterday, a reader and long-time colleague sent me what’s possibly the most fabulous link EVAH (thanks Lisa!), so today’s blog is all about supporting a great new group that’s fighting for marriage equality – and having a metric ass ton of fun doing it. I’ll let you watch the video and then I’ll tell you how you can win your very own I Give a FCK.

On a side note, I ate pho for the first time (ever) last night. They bring you a plate filled with veggies to put into your soup, and not knowing proper Pho Protocol, I proceeded to drop what could only be described as a shrub of Thai basil into my pho. I’d like to thank my dinner companion for casually mentioning (disguised with a snicker) that MOST people just put the leaves from the basil into their pho. A phopaux on my part. Phucking idiot, I am.

Now, you can bop over to FCKH8’s YouTube channel and subscribe (now, please) and then head on over to their Facebook Page and show your support. You can support the cause even MORE by stopping by the FCKH8 website and using their easy-to-share icons to broadcast this message to your friends. Personally, I think this is a great way to clean out some of those dead-weight friends on Facebook and in your Twitter stream – once they see this video filled with awesomesauce, those close-minded fuckwads will be on a short boat to the “remove from friends” and “unfollow” buttons. Awwwwyeah. Beat it, geeks.

But Erika – You Said I Could Win My Very Own I Give a FCK!

You’re right. I sure did. Here’s how:

• Stop by the RedheadWriting Fan Page and become a fan.
• Then, bop over to FCKH8’s fan page and become a fan of theirs, too.
• NEXT, write a message on the RedheadWriting fan page wall tagging both RedheadWriting and FCKH8 and tell me why you should win one of their fabulous FCKH8 t-shirts. Oh, and in your wall post, tell me your t-shirt size and the shirt you want (yes, you get to CHOOSE!). You can view all of their fabulous shirts HERE.
• How to tag in Facebook: when you type, put an @ symbol in front of the page or person you want to tag. For example, type @redheadwriting and it will pull up RedheadWriting in a search box below the wall post entry field. Easy peasy!
• On Thursday of this week, I’ll announce the 10 winners of your very own I Give a FCK - because I’ll see who REALLY gives a FCK about stopping the cycle of H8 in this country.

Go forth. Become fans. Show your support. Retweet the shit out of this. Please and thanks.

You see, I began college on a pre-law track. All I ever wanted to be was a lawyer. Ribbon after trophy in extemporaneous speaking and debate, Mock Congressional Hearing competitions and history fair projects that left me sleepless for three days straight, all in pursuit of perfection. Justice. The American Way.

And then…I discovered that Theatre majors were doing the same thing – putting on performances fueled by facts (scripts)…and having a whole lot more fun doing it than my cohorts in social sciences. So I walked into the Theatre department and never left. In the process, I became politically apathetic, as there has not been a single federal law passed during my lifetime that has had a significant effect on the way I live except Roe vs. Wade.

I’m not ashamed that I voted for Barack Obama in the past election. Nor am I ashamed to admit I’m more liberal on the social side and more conservative on fiscal matters. What I’m ashamed of is that we’re a nation more ready to place blame than accept responsibility.

I’m torn on so many issues that have come across the wires this week. I’ll share my thoughts on all three, as each of you has your own thoughts. What shames me is that THIS is my country.

Burn, baby, burn: I’m no fan of Glenn Beck and I’m confident that if he even found me consequential, he’d be no fan of mine. Which is cool. We’re not one another’s target demographic. But he and his producer opened their mouths this week and I couldn’t help but be mortified. Erin Kotecki-Vest (@QueenOfSpain) turned me on to this story and I turned it over to my community on Facebook. The jist? A rural fire department serving Obion, Tennessee let a family’s home burn to the ground with their three dogs and cat inside because they hadn’t paid a $75 fee for subscription to the fire department’s services. On one hand, I GET the “no free rides” contingency – why should we help you if you haven’t paid? But I also sit here as a pet owner and human being and ask: how do you simply watch a home burn to the ground and burn to death a family’s pets that are trapped inside? The Coast Guard will rescue you from sea if your boat capsizes – and they’ll send you a bill. The paramedics don’t dig through your pockets at the scene of a car accident to find your insurance card before deciding if they’ll offer you medical assistance – they send you a bill. While the firefighters are stuck in a rock/hard place, it’s disheartening to know that $75 has been the price assigned to compassion. We can’t legislate compassion, but can’t we practice it anyway? The conversation on my Facebook page got interesting. (You’ll have to “like” the page to view, I think.)

Fed up with the federal bailout: Here’s where I know I’ll be unpopular (don’t care, thanks for asking). It is not the government’s responsibility to ensure that you are employed. Owning a home is not an inalienable right. In a conversation on Twitter this morning, a colleague shared a no-BS thought: “That’s what credit is about: not yours yet.” That was in response to this link that I posted from CNN Money, announcing that homeowners (in certain states and meeting certain criteria, blah-blah-blah) can soon apply for loans up to $50,000 to pay for mortgage payments and expenses in arrears. And the hoot of it all? If you stay in the home for five years, the loan’s forgiven! Well, slap me and call me Myrna. How ’bout I buy a house, don’t save any money, lose my job, have no money to pay for my house and the government gives me $50,000 for my troubles? That’s bullshit, folks. If you buy things on credit, they’re NOT YOURS YET. You don’t get to buy a car and not pay for it (hello, repossession).

Now, before you call me a hypocrite, here’s the rub: I filed Chapter 7 bankruptcy in 2008. I had perfect credit. Two homes that I remodeled with my own hands – no contractors (though it was never supposed to be that way). And I bled every ounce of my savings dry to keep up with 2 house payments after an ex-fiance “decided” he wasn’t going to buy one of the houses as he’d promised. It was the toughest decision I ever made and I’m going to live with it – and pay for it – until 2015. So yeah, I know what I’m talking about. I was the best decision for me: to walk away from two homes that were $250,000 upside down in a matter of six months time. To get my life back. And I’ll tell you – I don’t live on credit anymore – screw that if it’s the American Way. I pay cash. Maybe more people need to learn this lesson. And the learning process sucks. Why does my country’s government want to reward people for bad decisions? I’d like my $50,000 check if they’re handing them out. Especially since this next year, I’m going to buy a home once again. I’m looking forward to it – me and my long-saved downpayment and cash in the bank are quite excited.

Apparently it’s okay for “religions” to preach hate: The 2nd highest official in the Mormon Church has issued a condemnation of the gay, lesbian, transgendered and bisexual community. All this in the wake of multiple gay teen suicides. I blogged about the topic over on ToyWithMe this past Monday. I’m appalled at the audacity that this church displays. My family’s best friends since 1979 have been a loving Mormon family – they are our neighbors and share in each and every one of our family’s joys and struggles. They’re kind. While it’s no secret that I’ve never been able to come to terms with organized religion, I find this statement malicious, especially in light of the recent challenges facing the gay community. I think Ellen DeGeneres got it right when she said that teens have enough of a problem figuring out who they are without bullying and hate coming their way. And this is the worst kind of bullying: by a 500 pound gorilla using religion as justification for word of hate

Man, these colors sure don’t run…but what are WE running from? I’ve been on the ass end of bad financial decisions and I’d like to think that I’m not the only one with a conscience about it. I’m penalized by the IRS each year on my taxes because I own my own business. I pay for my own health insurance. I pay contractors – and on time. I take care of my business. I take care of myself. I take care of my money. And this is the type of news I tune into when I choose to tune in?

I don’t have an answer. For any of it. But I’ll stand by my beliefs that people who spew misogynistic garbage are dbags, that those who have enough time to crusade against those who are not like them need to get a new hobby, and that sometimes, charity costs less than you think.

We’re responsible for ourselves and our families. Those who are different don’t pose threats, but we don’t have to tolerate their words of hate, either. We’re a nation of people who each need one another…and if you think you don’t need anyone else, you might want to think again. That gay person you hate just might have decided to be a paramedic or a doctor for a living. Might be important if you find yourself fighting for your life.

While some of you may have difficulty accessing this website due to your corporate firewalls, know that the post isn’t by any means “adult” in nature. Stop by the site this evening when you get home from the office.

But if you need a good vibrator, they’ve got reviews of those, too

Are Universities Giving Hall Passes for Hate?

PS: Have you voted in the Westword Best of the Web awards for little ol’ me?

PPS: If you’re in Denver/Boulder, you could win tickets to see Lisa Lampanelli with me and 9 other folks on October 30 – today is the last day to enter!

If you’ve followed Redhead Writing for any length of time, you know there’s also the “Redhead Riding” side to the equation. I like my bicycles and spend six days a week on one somewhere or another. I have a coach – two, actually (one for the track and one for my overall road and training program). My best ideas come following intervals where I’ve set my body to spontaneously combust through some (ridiculous) painful sprinting effort. Maybe my brain is clearest when my legs are brimming with lactic acid. Whatever the reason, I’ll take it.

This year is the first year I’ve ridden a bike since I was a kid. I fell in love with track and road bikes and decided to see what I could do with it. Hence the coaches and training schedule. Hence the two new bikes (the Tiemeyer and Barbie). And crashes. And days where it would have been much easier to say damn it all straight to H and go grab myself a taco because this whole riding bikes fast thing sucks epic amounts of wooly ass.

But I didn’t. And after one of three ten-minute intervals of pain down at the Colorado Springs velodrome on Saturday, my coach looked at me and said, “You’re really improving, Red. Coming along nicely.” And then I got to sit the motor for the first time.

If you’re not a track cyclist, it’s likely you have no idea what that means. So I’ll tell ya: it means you get to ride your bike with no brakes directly behind the pacing motorbike on the track (a motorbike that has a roller behind it so your front wheel doesn’t ram into the bike and send you crashing into a pile of bike and broken bones). It means you get to use the bike’s draft to go faster and work harder than you could on your own. It’s a workout I’ve watched everyone else do all season. And finally, I got to do it.

While my first attempt was laughable, it reminded me…

There are two kinds of people in this world: ones that get things done and ones that don’t.

If I’d given up because this bike riding think sucks wooly ass, I’d never have had my landmark Saturday at the track. I’d always be scared to descend (a feat at which I’m getting better every day). I’d have hung up my bike the day I crashed this year and scored road rash so bad I couldn’t sleep.

It’s like anything in life: if you’re too afraid to fall, you’ll never even walk close to the edge. But if you begin to realize that every time you fall, you can come back better, stronger and with more resolve – the edge stops looking so scary. Me? I love the feeling that my eyes are welling-up with tears on account of a personal victory. I’ll cry for that shit all day long. It’s a helluva lot better than sitting on your sofa at 3 PM on a Saturday with the curtains drawn, wondering if the sun is going to shine and watching people do thing on TV that you could be doing yourself if you had the gumption to get off your ass.

So today – on a Monday of all days, I’m asking you: what kind of person are you? Do you screw around with excuses, blame and woe-is-me anthologies? Is your legacy one built on harvesting the tasteless low-hanging fruit? Do you kill your victories with self-deprecation instead of celebrating a life well-lived?

Or is it one where you drop a big ol’ f-bomb (or even a little internal one if blue language ain’t yer style) and walk into the world with arms wide open, asking to fail as soon as possible so you can push through towards success? Do you HUG your successes back and after a requisite period of mourning, laugh about your failures? When you jump, do people tell you you’re crazy?

It takes a little “crazy” to get out there and grab life by the man-berries, but hey – a little crazy never hurt anyone. Go find your crazy.

Note: NOT The Redhead, though I do fancy the outfit...

The day someone told me I should watch Eddie Izzard (as I’d “get” him – I believe that was the wording), I took the information and filed it away in “Under Advisement.” Given that someone always has something we should watch/see/read/do/hump/anoint, our daily dance cards are pretty full. Thanks for the add – hugs. Mean it.

Then a roommate gave me “Dressed to Kill” – one of Eddie’s standup shows – for Christmas. Jesus, it was like everyone I knew conspired to have me sit down and watch this dude. One bored night back in 2002, I popped the damn disc into the DVD player.

And proceeded to laugh my ass off. Cried. Tears. My abs hurt.

He describes himself as an Executive Transvestite. Smart humor and witty tangents delivered by a man in women’s getup.

I turn to humor quite a bit for my requisite dose of “smart.” George Carlin, Eddie Izzard, Bill Mahr, Dave Chappelle, Chris Rock, Lewis Black – love them or hate them, you can’t argue with the logic behind their humor. Hey – different channels work for different folk. My poison? Humor. And the smarter, the better.

The past week or so, I’ve received a fair share of unsolicited feedback on why my readers keep coming back – from my readers themselves. They come back because of the smart side of the smack-downs. So, sitting here on my sofa-desk, suckling caffeine as life’s only fuel following a time-well-spent late night filed with smart humor, I think that I’d fancy myself a bit of an Executive Dominatrix – all credit to Eddie Izzard, of course.

I get to whip people into shape. Smartly. Direct, yet with laughter. Hell, if we can’t laugh at ourselves…well, I guess we could laugh at other people. God knows, the human animal is stranger than fiction. And people consistently ask for another. “Yes ma’am!” You ask, I’ll keep up with the whipping, you naughty little monkeys. But laughing at ourselves and using our foibles, blunders and epic fuckups to help others who might be making (or have previously made) the same mistake – smart. It’s the comedic equivalent of reduce/reuse/recycle.

Here are a few shares this week on my smart humor list – I hope you enjoy their content as much as I do:

SEO Bullshit

Justin Kownacki

The Oatmeal

27b/6

Cherry Woodburn

If you have any “smart humor” to add, leave a comment. I’m always looking to expand my reach. Now on your knees and ask for another

While it might seem intuitive to some, others are epic fucktards about the etiquette of the referral process. Snarketing entries are usually reserved for visual representations of poor marketing, this installment is a little Miss Manners for the Referral Impaired.

How to Not be a Fucktard in the Referral Process

1. When making a referral to someone, it would be nice if the party receiving the referral hit you up with a “Yo – thanks!” They do not OWE you anything. They do not OWE you a reciprocal referral. They do not OWE you lunch. Hell, they don’t even OWE you thanks. Making a referral involves grabbing Karma by the balls. What comes around goes around.
2. Understand the protocol of the referral. If you’re referring a client to a strategic partner, outline how the relationship will flow. Will YOU manage the relationship? Is it an “open white label” situation? Whose responsibility is billing? Be clear.
3. If someone gives you a referral to a strategic partner, it’s incredibly douchy to go around the person who referred you and ask this new person if you can “deal with them directly.” What you’re saying is, “Wow – this is awesome and I’m glad to have met this person! I’d sure love to ass rape the person who referred me by seeing if I can cut them out of the deal! YEAH!”
4. If you ever find a strategic partner with whom you have a referral arrangement cutting you out of the deal or working some side magic/discount pricing on their own, here’s the easiest way to deal:
   1. Let them know that YOU know what they’ve done.
   2. Hire a shady PI to take compromising pictures of that person with a hooker.
   3. Never do business with them again.
   4. Kicking in the nuts/clam is optional (yet highly rewarding).
5. Karma is a cold hearted bitch, and if you doubt me, go ahead and indulge in any of the asshattery outlined above. 98 pigeons will shit on your freshly-washed car inside of 48 hours.

Here endeth the snark.

So I tweeted @sprint and @sprintcare asking how to get in touch with someone from their marketing department.

Apparently @sprintcare is a bit of a misnomer. No response, even 12 hours later. Their Twitter stream is filled with @ replies to account holders.

What about a potential new one?

My ponder this morning is this: are there ANY good cell service providers out there? We all know that the only reason AT&T has ANY client retention is the iPhone and our propensity for suckling Apple’s technological teat. I want to hear who MY readers have as a cell provider:

• Who you have or had
• What you love/hate
• Why  you’d build a statue in your front lawn to memorialize them or throw them in a room of Sarah Palin fans and a tank of piranhas.

Lay it on me. And maybe @sprintcare really does care and they’re working on getting back to a tech-savvy redhead who’s curious about engaging in a cell provider/client relationship that doesn’t land me in a Utah compound begging for divorce.

I’m headed to a meeting, but hey – I’ll dig into your comments when I’m back. Lay it on me.

Uncharacteristic confusions of it’s and its. Blink-inducing substitutions for shirt and shit. Time becomes tome. Hell is strangely mutated to he’ll (and for this, I blame my iPhone). I’m issuing a shout-out to Microsoft and Apple: the world needs an Idiot Check function (<<which was “cunction” until I corrected it) in any and all word processing applications.

This goes for WordPress’s Spell Check, Mac Mail, Outlook, Entourage, Pages, Word and whatever the hell else you might be using to scrawl your digital correspondence.

Thank god for my readers, as they gently send me DMs and emails with every goddamn typo I make. It’s like having a full-time copyeditor on staff (I’ve even threatened to hire @ShellyKramer for the job). And I love all of you for the proofreading love you so openly give. But if I can have a “phone” (term used loosely, especially given my current disdain for Apple) that allows me to check the weather, complete PayPal transactions and check 93 email accounts, why can’t someone come up with an actual Idiot Check for any application that involves TYPING? Yeah, yeah – I know about the “grammar check” function in Word. Have you SEEN its version of a well-constructed English sentence? Christ. Snoop Dogg has a better grasp on English than the grammar check function.

Just a rant. Weigh in as you always do. And by the way, I’ve been so busy the last two days that my iPad showed up yesterday. It’s still in the box. Total. Fail.

PS: if you find a typo above, lemme know. FML.

While tomorrow might have a Snarketing post waiting for you (and I’m not tooting my own horn by saying it’s a doozy), today, I’d like you to tell me a story.

On Monday, I’ll post MY story about this image. And I have a feeling it’ll be personal. You’re welcome to post stories up until next Thursday. I’ll then close the comments and put the best up for vote. You won’t be sorry you submitted one if you’re in the finals.

That’s all: spin your tale.