A few days ago I realized that my Supra Ekey dues needed to be paid. My Ekey is a little electronic box that allows me to open lockboxes. It has to be updated daily and is kind of a vital part of my ability to do my job.
So first I went online and tried to make a payment in their online system. This failed epically. I didn’t even get past the login stage and tried both resetting my password and setting up a new account, to no avail. Enough time and frustration was involved with this event that I set the whole thing aside for a couple of days.
Today, while I was home with the boys, I realized there is a good chance if I don’t actually force my money into Supra’s hands with some method pretty soon here they are going to turn off my Ekey access. Which would make tomorrow’s 6 showings in Maricopa and one in Chandler, and the 4 clients I have set up for the weekend, just a little awkward. “Feel free to peek in the window, there, Sir. I’m going to hop the fence and see if I can jimmy the sliding glass door in the back open…”
This time, I went straight to the phone line and attempted the automated payment system there. Of course, this also failed, but not before I had to enter my 6 digit KIM key code, my 4 digit pin, my credit card number, the expiration date, and the zip code of the credit card’s billing address. Because, you know, that’s pretty easy and quick and all.
At that point I had waited too long to put it off any further, so I had to select the always thrilling door three: wait on hold for the next available service representative. And, of course, the projected wait time was When My Youngest Child Attends His Prom or Never, whichever comes later.
Instead of giving myself a grade three neck crick, I decided to put the phone on speaker and sit on the couch with my two youngest and read to them the new book we’d gotten from their grandma that day.
Now, the Supra on hold chatter was a mixture of some obnoxious guy shouting about how I could make my payment online if I wanted instead of waiting on hold (yeah, right, buddy, come over here and say that to my face!!) and about 10 seconds of excessively loud elevator music, on a loop. Plus, I’m not sure if I’ve mentioned this, but my kids are LOUD.
And then there’s the fact that the book I was reading was a brief little tome about a charming fellow called Tickle Monster and his journey from another planet to torture-by-tickle the people of earth. The book also came with special furry ‘tickle gloves’. Well, and I’m an energetic reader, what can I say?
About 7 pages into this book, amid the giggling shrieks of my children, and my own animated description of one of the most sadistic story book creatures of all time, I hear, ‘HELLO???!!! MAAM? IS SOMEONE THERE??’ and realize that I’ve completely forgotten, in my zeal for holding down my youngest and blowing on his tummy, that I was waiting for an actual person to come back to the phone.
As she choked back her mirth, the Supra woman’s response to the situation was, “That was quite a passionate reading you were giving.” *Snerk*