A Peculiar guy named Geremy


2.5 hours, 5 concepts


Tonight I called T-Mobile to get my Sidekick 2 fixed (long story, don’t ask) and I was introduced to a variety of new concepts.

Concept # 1: The concept of the robot operator
I dialed the toll-free number and a female operator-type robot voice answered and said “Welcome to T-Mobile! How may I help you today?” I didn’t know how broad its vocabulary extended, or if it was able to understand full sentences, so I simply said “technical support.” Minutes later, I was connected to a live person in the tech support department.

Unfortunately, their knowledge was not broad enough to cover the problems that I was having with the device, so they transferred me to tier 2 tech support, which brings me to my next learned concept.

Concept # 2: The concept of the call-back
After being on hold for 3 minutes, I was greeted by another automated voice who beckoned for me to input my home phone number and when my call reaches #1 in the queue, they will call me, thus eliminating the long wait that I would’ve experienced.

Nineteen minutes later, I got a call from T-Mobile, who immediately put me on hold for 3 more minutes before being able to speak to the next level of technical support. Unfortunately, this person was not technical at all and probably wouldn’t have been able to stop his VCR’s from blinking 12:00….oh wait, people don’t use VCR’s anymore, my mistake.

Since tier 2 couldn’t fix my problem, I was transferred to tier 3, which conveniently brings me to concept 3.

Concept # 3: The concept of patience
There wasn’t a robot to call me back this time. I had to “wait for my call to be answered in the order it was received.” I waited for one hour and twenty-two minutes. I waited so long that I heard the entire volumes 1, 2, and 3 of “Hold Music, Greatest Hits.” Forty-five minutes into holding, I was able to sing along with the holding song. I wanted to hang up, but I knew that I would never bring myself to call back and my sidekick would stay broken.

As soon as I was about to fall asleep on the phone, a jolly woman answered the phone by saying “HEY GER!!!” How’d she know my name? Let me introduce you to the next concept.

Concept # 4: The concept of outsourced operators
The operator was obviously outsourced help from abroad, but spoke very eloquently. The first thing that she asked me wasn’t “what’s wrong with your device” like the other operators, but instead she said “why do you sound so tired?” I replied, “I was on hold for over an hour and I’m sleepy.” I couldn’t believe that I was telling my business to a random person over the phone, but I do it every week over the internet, so I guess that makes it okay.

She said, “awww, were you watching TV?” and I replied, “no, I was just chilling.” The next question was surprisingly obvious. “What’s chilling? Are you cold?” “No, nevermind.”

The operator sounded like she was between the ages of 18 and 22, as evidenced by her “dum-de-dum-de-dummmm’s” whenever I didn’t say anything. I felt like I was speaking to a hyper high-school junior, but as long as she got my sidekick working, I was fine with it.

Keep in mind that at this point I’ve been on the phone for almost two hours and I was tired. Every time I tried to speed the call along, she kept asking me about myself, or telling me random facts. At one point, I think I heard a baby call out from the background, but it might’ve been a prematurely outsourced sweat-shop-esque worker who was put to work at the age of .4.

Finally, the operator put in an order for me to get a replacement sidekick, but told me to “bring [my] sidekick to the UPS store and give them the number 119642198 and they’ll know what to do with it.” I asked “are you sure” and she giggled and said “yes, I’m sure.”

I was sure that I wasn’t sure that she was sure, but just to ensure that she was sure, I had to be reassured. Moving onto my last learned concept.

Concept # 5: The concept of verification
After I hung up the phone, I immediately called back to verify the details of the “phone-swap.” I asked the [American] operator to re-read the procedure to me, and she gladly did so without the giddy additions. I found out that the outsourced person was incorrect and I didn’t have to give any secret code to UPS to get my replacement. Good thing I didn’t trust her.

This phone call took up way too much of my time, but I’ve learned a lot and I now know how to handle the next giddy 18 year old outsourced operator that comes my way.

Idiotarod 2006


Last Saturday I went to NY to see a dogsled race, nicknamed “Idiotarod”, but instead of dogs there were people, and instead of sleds there were shopping carts. I left NJ at 1:30pm and sped to New York in an attempt to get to the starting line at 2:30 to take some pictures. Two hours later I was lost in the Bronx and had no idea where to turn.

I decided to head home, but then I was stuck in traffic. I was tired, hungry, and angry, but just when I thought that I was going to erupt, a blue-haired pseudo-transvitite, equipped with a handlebar moustache drove a cart past my car, screaming “WHOO-HOO!!!!” at the top of his/her lungs.

I found it!

Click here to see my pictures from the event

A little too much “insight”


I took an “insights” personality assessment last week compliments of my job. Prior to taking the test, I thought that I was a highly complex individual. Through opinion based questions, I thought that it was utterly impossible to form an accurate portrayal of my true self…but I was wrong.

I took the test while watching “True Life: I’m on Steroids,” which shouldn’t have influenced my answers too much. With muscles bulging and freaks getting frequent ‘roid rages, I couldn’t pay too much attention to the test. At first I answered as honestly as I’m known to be, but then I began to purposely answer incorrectly in an attempt to communicate my complexity and abstractness to the test. Twenty-eight minutes later the test was over, and I was happy because I was finally able to give my undivided attention to the sterile beings flaunting their artificial muscles on television.

Two days later, I was forwarded the results of the test—all 23 pages of it. I printed it out and put it aside on my desk, once again paying it no mind.

When I got home, I went to the bathroom (read: Everyone Poops) and needed some reading material. I picked up the insights test, had a seat, and started reading. By the third page I was so blown away that I had to rise off the throne and sit on the couch

By the seventh page I was upstairs looking for the person who was spying on me. By the 20th page, I felt mentally violated.

The personality assessment went something like this:

Geremy combines affability and amiability with a high sense of duty. On January 15 2006 at 9:12pm, he selected a blue t-shirt and blue basketball shorts as his outfit of choice. He focuses inward as an objective thinker and he rationalizes his view of the world through concrete facts. At the time of this assessment, he was watching True Life: I’m on Steroids. He tackles his work very seriously and in a matter-of-fact and orderly manner, placing importance on the reading of instructions and detailed procedures.

In a world where a test can tell me about every aspect of my life, I don’t feel safe anymore. I’m moving to Mars! WHO’S WITH ME??

Time’s up!


Since January 1st of this year, I’ve been blessed with the gift of being able to fall asleep at the drop of a dime. Whether I am walking to class or brushing my teeth, as soon as I give my brain the signal to sleep… I’M OUT! The flipside to this is that I can’t ever wake up on time.

For instance, I went to sleep at 1am and set my alarm clock, pocket pc, and 5 different alarms on my phone to wake me up at 7am. When 7am came, I woke up, turned off each alarm, and went back to sleep without having any recollection of ever waking up.

This has happened so many times in the past few weeks that I am scared to go to sleep now. I’ve tried limiting my sleep to 3 hours a night, but it ended up making me more sleepy. I’ve also tried going to sleep early, but it didn’t work also.

I’ve been wanting to check into the hospital to get help and possibly medication, but there’s no way that they would admit me if I say “I wake up, but don’t know that I woke up, so when I actually wake up, I find out that I woke up before I actually woke up.” The only other solution that I can think of is to have someone throw boiling hot water on me every morning when I’m sleeping. Eventually I would have 2nd degree burns all over my body, but at least I’ll be up on time.

Come Out Wherever You Are


Last night I read for about 20 minutes before falling asleep at around 12:20am. This was supposed to be the time for me to unwind and prepare for another day in the life of Geremy, but I realized that it’s a little hard to sleep WHEN THERE’S A PIERCING ALARM SOUNDING IN YOUR EAR.

Before I went to bed, I was going to run out to my car to get something, but changed my mind as soon as I partially opened the door. Less than 2 hours later, the wind blew the front door open and the house alarm sounded, which woke me up.

My dad woke up and called for me to help him search the house for the invisible intruder. Now keep in mind that I just woke up from bed, so I was all “discombobulated.” I couldn’t hear, I couldn’t feel, and I definitely couldn’t see, so if there was a burglar in the house, he could’ve whispered in my ear, ate all my porridge, and slept in my bed and I wouldn’t have known a thing.

I went downstairs and stood in one place with my eyes closed while my dad searched the entire house…literally. He looked behind the television, under the couch, inside the refrigerator, inside the toilet tank…everywhere! Then he went into the basement to look for the phantom thief and I tried to sneak back into bed, but I was called back downstairs to finish the search.

More searching ensued, no one was found and I headed back to bed knowing that if anyone ever tried to break into the house, my father and I—well, my father, is fully equipped to find them…even if they are hiding inside the microwave.

P.S: But that doesn’t give you the invitation to try and break into my house because I will bring Big Ben (my baseball bat) out to play.

I Revoke my Rite to Shop


I went to the grocery store Monday with my sister and I can honestly say that it was my worst experience all year. First of all, the place was packed—packed like 15 basketball players inside a Honda Civic DX. At one point, an old man stood in the middle of the aisle and yelled “WHAT ARE ALL YOU PEOPLE DOING HERE???”

Secondly, it seemed like everyone was in on a game of “hit the shin” with my shin as the target and their carts as weapons. Everyone, tall and short, young and old, able-bodied and disabled, recklessly ran into me with their cart. There were even a few head-on collisions that would’ve been fatal if cars were involved. I guess that when you’re focusing on saving $.29 on a can of tuna, you can’t be bothered with steering your cart out of the way of others.

Finally, why must each shelf have 200 different varieties of a product, each with a different price. How should I know which syrup to buy? Three different brands of syrups, 5 different varieties, all the same type of bottle, but different prices. They all taste the same, so why not consolidate the inventory into one generic product?? All of these different options complicate life and add unneeded stress to food shopping.

I think that someone should invent the drive through supermarket. You pull up to the speaker and place your order, then pull up to window 2 to pay, then get your things at window three. That way, you won’t have to worry about different varieties, old men yelling down aisles and best of all NO SHIN DAMAGE!

In-Depth Look at Resolutions


The year of our lord, Two Thousand and Five, has come to an end and 2006 has begun. Just like everyone else, I intend on making “New Years Resolutions,” but it’s time to change things up. As a management major, I’ve learned that you must identify and correct the problems of a system in order to make it run efficiently, so I have assigned myself to identify and correct the problems with new years resolutions before I create resolutions of my own.

Earlier this week, I summoned my research team and after long hours of intense research, we’ve come up with two problems with the system, and two solutions to cure it.

Problem # 1: One year, twelve months, 52 weeks, 365 days, 8760 hrs, 525600 minutes, 31536000 seconds is simply too much time. By nature, humans are easily sidetracked, and if you have the dreaded ailment called “procrastination” you’re even worse off. But don’t worry, let Dr. Geremy prescribe some prescription advice for you.
Solution # 1: Divide the year into segments. Whether it is 2 halves, 4 quarters, or 12 months, a smaller time period will help you to stay focused on your goal while forming new and better ones frequently.

Problem # 2: Unrealistic goals. Let’s face the facts, if you were 75lbs at birth, 175lbs in fourth grade, and 465lbs now, you’re probably not going to be able to drop 300 lbs in 12 months. If you are currently unemployed, and have been for the last 12 years with 1.2 million dollars in debt, you’re probably not going to be debt-free by the end of the year. If you are blind, have no arms, infected with tourettes-syndrome, and had your womb surgically removed when you were 12, you’re probably not going to have a child in the next few months…although, if you were blind, you wouldn’t have been able to navigate your way to this site, so I won’t worry.
Solution # 2: Set more realistic goals for yourself. Think about the feasibility of you completing the goal in the time period that you set. If it is utterly impossible for any human on the face of the earth (except me…I’m amazing) to complete it, find something smaller that you can accomplish.

With these things in mind, my new years quarterly resolution is simple:
1) Become President of the United States by June.

Merry Procrastination


Dear Man in Blue Dodge Durango with New York Plates,

Christmas was six days ago. Not one day ago, not four days ago. Six…just like that girl on the early-90’s hit TV show, “Blossom.” Since Christmas took place 6/7 of a week ago, there is no need to tote that brand new Christmas tree on your roof.

You probably thought that you could be slick and get the Christmas tree for 66% off if you got it 85.714% of a week later, but the effect isn’t the same. In case you were wondering, your kids weren’t crying because they didn’t get a robosapien toy, they were crying because they didn’t have a Christmas tree for Santa to put the gifts under on Christmas morning.

Would you like it if I gave you a birthday present six days after your birthday? Oh you would? Well your opinion doesn’t count because you buy Christmas trees 3/10 of a month AFTER Christmas!

You may be wondering why I’m being so harsh on you. It’s because when I drove parallel to your car on route 287 to give you the “have you no shame” look, you gave me a weird smirk like I was the one toting the post-Christmas tree on my roof.

So there you have it, Mr. “I buy Christmas trees 6 days after Christmas and strap them to the top of my Blue Dodge Durango with New York License Plates.” You know exactly what the guy in the gold Altima was thinking when he was attempting to look into your dark, procrastinating soul. I’ll probably see you in Times Square on January 6, 2006, as you wait for the ball to drop to celebrate the New Year.

With Warm Regards,

Geremy F.

Look At His Shoes!


Merry Christmas and all that other good stuff.

Among the things that I got for Christmas were these sneakers:

Air Force One Tuxedos

and these

Air Force One Christmases

and they join the company of these

Air Force One Grey Suede I got 3 pairs of the same type of sneaker because these will be my official sneaker for 2006.

I’m not going to go down the list of things that I got for Christmas, but it’s safe to say that tomorrow I will be treating myself with all of the things that I wanted but didn’t get. Stay tuned.

A Peculiar guy named Geremy