LIVIN LARGE with Frank E Boy

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It's kind of funny...

1/30/2012 Comment on This

I am officially calling for a ban on ANYONE introducing a story/comment by saying: "It's kind of funny..."

Before I get into it any farther, let's get to the bottom line: It is NOT funny.

It's not at all funny. It's nothing that Ricky Gervais would say, nothing that Chris Rock would say. In fact it's so "not funny" that you couldn't even get Judy Tenuta or Emo Phillips to say it.

Examples:

"It's kind of funny... The other day I was waiting in line at McDonalds and this lady was screaming at her kids."

"It's kind of funny... Last week my friends and I were at a bar, and we just sat there for hours talking and never ordered any drinks"

"It's kind of funny... I usually forget to get gas in my car until I'm almost on empty."

See what I'm saying?
No funny anywhere to be seen.
Funny has left the building – TYVM.

So my suggestion/DEMAND is that everyone make the move towards accuracy. I must insist that you start your sentences and stories with something closer to the truth like these alternatives:

Speaking of things that are very uninteresting...

Something really boring happen recently...

I like to hear myself talk, would you mind listening?...

Now, next time you're speaking and the people you're talking to avoid eye contact, or groan/sigh or even spontaneously go into a coma, you'll understand what is "actually" happening.

When you preface your concept appropriately going forward – you're politely giving people the option of faking a sudden need to use the restroom or pretending to get an important text messages so they can back away and save face for everyone involved.

If I can leave you with one thought it would be: Don't oversell it.

With that said, happy story telling to you.

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Can You Please Rate Me?

1/13/2012 Comment on This

Many retail stores and other types of business that deal with the public have been told by customer retention consultants and by various business books that they need to measure and constantly improve their customer service. Nowhere in the world is that more true than in the US where customers are very demanding of service and, sadly, service is becoming our primary business.

To accomplish these measurements of quality, you've probably been asked by a customer service employee to fill out some sort of form to "rate them." Some are bold enough to explain: We don't get any sort of commission but my bonus pay is entirely driven by these customer ratings so if you would please fill out a survey, I would appreciate it.

Bad Service Can You Rate Me?

Now, that's all fine for a good employee and as long as it isn’t some giant pain in the ass questionnaire, I’ll fill it out. But lately, it seems like only the crappiest employees are giving me the full court press for these evaluation.

As I'm hearing the words come out of their mouth, I'm thinking: "You really must exist in another dimension on the other side of the universe. You're saying you actually want me to 'write down' what a terrible job you did? You ooze lack of interest in doing a good job. What good thing could you possibly expect me to say?"

And then for some stupid reason - I do nothing. Why do any of us feel bad complaining when we spend good money and get bad service? I think many of us have some weird sense of ultra-politeness that urges us to not saying anything unless we have something nice to say.

So going forward, I've decided that if they ask - I'm gonna oblige.

Remember service people, you asked me to do this for you. You asked of me a "favor" and in all fairness, you now "owe" me a favor in return - regardless of what I say.

I guarantee it will be a fair and true evaluation based on your performance. If by my assistance you end up needing to "locate" more suitable employment, then I think I did a favor for you in the long run.

Consider this my "public notice" of fair warning. Don’t ask unless you mean it.

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Death Chairs

1/9/2012 Comment on This

I was a mall walker last Sunday before the show.

It’s not like I had a track suit on and got there at 6:30am. It was midday and I was walking around to kill time – but I still felt ridiculous.

I went with The Diva to see the “newest place” she’s found... which sucked...

Women have a weird (damaged) genetic coding sequence that causes them to hallucinate whenever a new store opens or they find a store they’ve never visited before. I believe they see rainbows, butterflies, unicorns and free pots of gold (or something like that).

Women see a Shimmering Shopping Fantasy.

Men see Shopping places for what they really are.

So I wandered around looking for anything remotely interesting: a book store, a cigar chop, a Tilted Kilt, whatever.... It was either that or end up like one of those guys that get stuck sitting in a “Death Chair”

You know the "Death Chair" - "Chair of Death" - whatever you like to call it.
You’ve seen them a million times...

They put them near women’s dressing rooms (any chair in a women’s shoe department is also a “Death Chair”). They are disguised as a convenience for a weary companion that has been dragged from store-to-store in search of the perfect purse/dress/shoe/pants/jewelry.

In reality, "Death Chairs" are a place dumb guys go to die - like an Elephant Graveyard.

The “Death Chairs” are never normal chairs. They are either overly “worn in” club chairs that make you sink all the way down to the height of the trained pet you’ve become. Or, other "Death Chairs" are instead a flamboyant purple-striped high back throne better suited for Liberace than you. The worst kind, is the silly looking mini-bench thing without armrests. They are just barely wide enough for two - which is awesome so that you can sit "super close" to a new “man friend” you’ll be meeting any moment who is also there to die.

Misery loves company.

I never found anything I would categorize as interesting – just miles of clothing stores, shoe stores and lots of mall food court crap.

At least I got some exercise accomplished for the day.

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