The life and times of an uncertain blogger

The prevalence of close online communities have brought an issue to light — at least for me — that I believe is becoming almost systemic in nature, and that is an increasing number of people who have serious intimacy issues.

It could be that I notice this because these communities themselves are the perfect haven for emotionally unavailable people, and they are drawn to it because of the safety it provides. Where else can they go to have close relationships with others while still keeping them at arms’ length?

The question is whether these online communities are enabling the issue or are providing an outlet for otherwise pent up emotions.

I tend to think it’s a little of both.

The sad truth is that in the past 16 years that I’ve been heavily involved in the online community, most of the people I’ve met and become close to fall into this category. They all fit into the same pattern — they’re friendly, witty, intelligent and have no lives. All of their close friendships are with people online, and the people in their “real lives” are relegated to the status of friendly acquaintence.

I, myself, fit into this category. At work, I’m friendly, outgoing, some might even say effervescent. I have lots of work friends who I just love, but when work is over, I pull back. I keep to myself in the evenings and reserve any socialization for my online friends. Life is easier, less complicated and…well…safer that way.

People with intimacy issues often fit that mold exactly. They use wit to avoid having or facing emotional turmoil of any kind. They avoid confrontation and don’t allow themselves to get angry or offended at situations that would normally send someone through the roof. They are extremely introspective and willing to share their viewpoints on intimacy with others like them.

Interestingly enough, these people are very caring and giving to their online friends, where they have difficulty behaving the same way in their real lives. Again, I believe this is because they are “safer” online. Trust is not as much of an issue, because they don’t have to worry about being hurt in the same ways as they would in real life. They can be happy and enjoy their online relationships without fear of betrayal, because they tell themselves that the people they meet online are somehow not as important as people in their real lives, so if they get betrayed by someone online, it isn’t as big a deal.

Sadly, though, it can be.

When people who have never allowed themselves to really love another person let the wall down enough to actually let someone in — even online — getting hurt by that person can be as heartbreaking as any emotional pain they’ve felt in their real lives. And if the wall comes down enough that they actually start getting together in the “real world” with the object of their online affection, the breakup can be devistating. I experienced this first hand when I broke up with Brian, a man I grew to love online and subsequently dated for two years. When we finally parted ways, it was one of the most painful emotional experiences of my life. Luckily for me, I got a great friend out of it, and he and I still keep in contact, albiet sporadically, today.

That said, one of my very close online friends and I were discussing this recently and he said, “Being in love and feeling in love are two very different things.” That really struck me, because it rang so true, and I think it is the very crux of what happens when a person has intimacy issues. Romantic relationships online allow people with intimacy issues to feel like they would if they were really in love, but in most cases, these people don’t allow themselves to actually be in love. Not in real life.

If you’re a person with intimacy issues, this makes sense. If you’re not, it’s probably meaningless. But trust me, it’s true.

When all is said and done, I’m of the opinion that, for an emotionally unavailable person, online communities and the close relationships they foster are both good and bad. They do give people an emotional outlet where they might not get one otherwise, but they also remove any incentive to get out in the real world and experience real life.

I’m telling you, there’s a book here somewhere. I’ve been toying with the idea of writing about this for some time — I’ve certainly done my research, and it continues today. I’d be interested in seeing what other people think about the issue. If you have an opinion, please feel free to comment on the site. Let me know whether you’d like your comment to be public or private, and maybe we can get a discussion going on the subject.

I look forward to hearing from you!

Stumble It!

Internet love…real or not real? That is the question.

As more and more people live a large percentage of their lives in virtual space, we have begun to see more Internet romances bloom. But what are these romances really?

The feelings are certainly the same. That heady, I’m-in-love-and-can’t-get-enough-of-you yearning is there, but usually, the visual and tactile components are missing. So, with that in mind, how can it possibly be real?

Some people, particularly those who are relatively new to cyberspace, will tell you that they know the object of their affection better than they know most people in their real lives. They will argue that, when all you have is text, there is more deep discussion of values and moral principles and an opportunity to find out what makes the person really tick.

All that is certainly true.

Those who have been around the cyber block, so to speak, are more jaded in this area. They will tell you that, while that is true, the lack of visual and tactile stimuli also removes the ability to see through a lie. It is also certianly true that those of us who communicate online often present the person we would like to be rather than the person we really are, so that also has to be taken into account.

That said, I have been witness to several Internet romances that worked out well in real life. in 1994, I and 20 other cyber friends attended a wedding of two friends who met on the Internet while working in AOL’s guide program. These two, who were both in thier 50s at the time, met and worked together online for a couple of years before they set up tentative real life meetings, and it was those few real life meetings that led to their engagement and subsequent marriage. Happily, they are still together today.

I’ve seen the other side of that coin, though.

Case in point - NoogyMnstr and So Sexy Lisa, who met and lived in AOL’s Flirts’ Nook chat room for years. Noogy was a handsome ex Navy lieutenant with a heart of gold, and Lisa was his paramour, beautiful with a voice like honey and a body to match. Or, so Noogy thought. The two spent hours together on the phone and in the Nook each night, sharing their lives and falling madly, deeply in love. Though they both lived in Chicago, they never met in person, because, Lisa said, she had been sexually assaulted and had to take things slow. So, Noogy waited patiently, falling more and more in love with this beautiful, fragile girl. Eventually, they became engaged, even though they still hadn’t met, and Noogy began insisting that the meet in real life. After all, she had agreed to spend her life with him. They set up meetings, but something always happened to prevent them.

The other Nook regulars (who were all close cyber friends) became suspicious, and one had a relative who worked for the Illinois DMV who ran Lisa’s real name through the database. The picture that came back was not the one we had all seen of sweet, young Lisa. Instead, the picture returned was of a 40-something woman who looked more like Roseanne Barr. When all was said and done, we learned that Lisa was a married woman, and the picture she’d sent to Noogy was of the 18 year old Swedish exchange student living in her home. Needless-to-say, he was devistated. That was the day we all learned that Internet love can be a complete scam.

Real or not real, I suppose then, is on a case-by-case basis at best and depends on the honesty of the participants. Some people get lucky and meet someone they can spend their lives with while others get nothing but disappointment and heartache. In that way, I guess, it’s like any other relationship. Sometimes you strike gold, and sometimes, you get the shaft.

Whether it’s good or bad, one thing is certain. It’s fun while it lasts, and it feels great. Everyone can use a little romance now and then, whether its just private chats with someone who cares or a late night seranade of your favorite love songs, designed especially for you. I’ll take a night of seranading over late night TV any day!

Stumble It!

The only thing I love more than watching a close football game is watching one where we come out the winners. And today, we got a barn burner of a game between 10th ranked OU and 19th ranked Texas.

People who aren’t from Oklahoma or Texas can’t really grasp what a huge rivalry ours is. Both teams are national powerhouses, even in rebuilding years, and with such strong feelings on both sides about the folks on the other side of the Red River, it makes us want to come out on top even more.  (To spell it out, Oklahomans have a bit of disdain – to say the least – for Texans and visa-versa.)

OU has three big rivalries — Texas, OSU (our in-state rival) and Nebraska. In years past, all three of these games would be huge, but with the downfall of Nebraska after their great coach, Tom Osborne retired at the end of 1997, only OSU and Texas are really left, and both are taken equally seriously, because very strong emotions are involved, and when that’s the case, anything can happen and often does.  There have been years when we’ve been unbeaten all season, only to meet one of these teams who wasn’t even ranked that year and then lose horribly.  The simple fact is that strong emotions make for great football.

Today’s game was back and forth all four quarters until OU finally moved ahead and stayed ahead in the fourth quarter, finally coming away victorious with a score of OU-28 and UT-21.

Life is good!!  

Stumble It!

I came across a forum today that asked the question, “Why do you like the Beatles?” The person who asked the question is, himself, a huge Beatles fan, but he could never put into words why he’s such a huge fan.

It made me stop and think, because I absolutely love the Beatles. I’ve loved them since the first day I saw them at age three, when they came to the United States for the first time and changed us forever. When I was pregnant with my son 20 years later, I took time each day to put on a Beatles album and play it for him through headphones I placed on my belly.

So, if people ask him why he loves the Beatles, he has a pretty good answer. He was indoctrinated before birth. But what about the rest of us? What about me?

Right now, as I’m scratching my head trying to put it into words, I couldn’t give you a single reason. My love for them – for each of them individually and together as a group – is almost visceral. It goes beyond simple explanation. All I know is that they have always made me happy in a way that other 20th century musicians can’t come close to doing. As individual artists, each of them is — or in the case of John and George - was wonderful, but together, they were magic.

I could say it is the tunes themselves, the sweet harmonies created by boys/men who had no formal musical training (Paul still can’t read a note.), and that would be true. (But what about their “out there” later music? I love that, too.) I could say it was John, Paul, George and Ringo themselves, with their wit, their mop-top hair and their fun-loving attitudes, and that, also, would be true. (But what about the in-fighting, and – dare I say – the whole Yoko thing? Except for my extreme dislike for Yoko, none of that made me love them any less.) I could say it was the way they changed the world with their ideas and their music, and that would be true as well.

But none of that is enough.

I think the reason so many of us have problems putting into words why we love the Beatles is because it’s all of those things and more. For me and other baby boomers, they represented a new type of freedom. We had grown up in an age of buzz cuts and skirts just below the knees and all the restrictions that went with that kind of thing, and here came the Beatles. Not only did they look different and have those Liverpoolian accents that melted our hearts, but their tongue-in-cheek, irreverent way of dealing with the media and all the attention they lavished on them, made us feel great – as though our generation could poo-poo the world and all its problems. Their music, their smiles, and their attitudes gave us hope for a positive future. They sang about love, and they always sang it just to whoever was listening.

When I talk to young people today who love the Beatles, I get the same type of answer. No matter what words they use to describe their reasons for loving the group, the theme is the same – their music was awesome, and they just make us feel good. They were pure magic.

Whatever the reason, the Beatles are the only thing my son and I argue about these days. He says he’s a bigger fan than I am, and I say there is no way that could be true. Frankly, I believe it’s a tie, but no matter – I am one lucky Beatles fan, because he loves them so much. With his voice like honey and his talent for playing the piano and guitar, he entertains me each day with the most fantastic renditions of their music. (He knows every song.) I swear, had he been living in Liverpool in 1960, he’d have been one of them.

Often, we harmonize together, since we both know the tunes so well, and because our voices are so similar, the harmonies resonate in us, creating an inner warmth that’s really hard to describe. The sound we produce on those occassions is lovely and sweet.

I have a dream that, one day, Paul will hear how much we love him (we never miss a concert) and how well my son sings and plays his tunes and will come knocking at our door. We’ll sit together and talk while Michael tosses out some McCartney and Lennon/McCartney tunes, and then before he leaves, we’ll all harmonize together. He’ll be so impressed that he’ll invite Michael to come and work with him. Of course, it would never happen, but what a great fantasy; huh?

I’ll never forget the first time we got to see Paul in person. As the concert was about to begin, I remember saying, “Oh, I hope none of these women make fools of themselves by screaming and crying.” And then Paul came out, and the first words that came out of his mouth were, “Close your eyes and I’ll kiss you, tomorrow I’ll miss you,” and I cried like a baby. (I’m a little misty now just thinking of it.) I never expected to do that – it just came out – and as I looked down the row from me, I saw a very tough looking 50ish year old man doing the same thing and understood immediately that all of us who love the Beatles (and Paul) do so with deep, visceral emotion.

So, why do I love the Beatles so very much? Your guess is as good as mine, and in the end, it doesn’t really matter. They just make us happy, and that, in itself, is enough for our generation and for generations to come. There will never be another Beatles. And we are lucky enough to have seen them for ourselves. Wow. Magic.

Stumble It!

So, tonight I had dinner at the Olive Garden on Memorial (just east of May).  The first thing I noticed as we waited for our table was that, outside the restaurant, prominently displayed on the wall, is a plaque with the restaurant’s general manager’s name proudly etched in it .

My first thought, of course, was that this was a huge departure from a Kim managed restaurant. Even though Olive Garden is a chain, they obviously take pride in their business and back that up with excellent service.

As usual, my experience there was steller. From Anna, the sweet lady at the door, to Kelly, the best waitress in the world, we were treated with respect and, even more, we were treated like friends.  Experiences like that are why I like to tip well.  The thing is, they didn’t really go out of their way for us. They just did their jobs well and had fun while they were doing it.  Their attitudes put us at ease, and we spent twice as much as we’d intended, so their behavior is obviously smart business.

Why can’t the Kims in the world get this? We don’t want you to work any harder; we just want you to do it right the first time, and if you can’t, make it right one way or the other. Do it that way, and you don’t have to pretend you can’t hear the person complaining on the phone. Do it right, and you can be an adult who would proudly etch her name on a plaque hanging outside your restaurtant instead of an immature poor excuse for a manager who doesn’t have the guts to apologize for your substandard service and instead pretends she’s lost a phone connection.

(I’m still embarrassed for her; can you tell?)

Anyway, bravo to the staff of Olive Garden on Memorial.  Your food is excellent, but more than half the reason we go there is because of you, the excellent employees who treat us like royalty.  Thank you!

Stumble It!

Friday night, my family and I experienced something that was so ludicrous, so ridiculously bad that I felt it was my obligation to share it with you. It happened at the KFC on Pennsylvania (Penn) just north of 122nd Street in Oklahoma City. Remember that location and save yourself tons of pissed off by not going there. The poor colonel was probably rolling over in his grave, trying to get out so he could rip the eyes out of the people ruining his reputation.

Now, before I get started, let me make clear that I’m not one of those anti-KFC people. I love their food. If you get what you want - the way you ordered it - it’s really good. I don’t know if they’re cruel to chickens; I hope not, but that will not be the focus of this diatribe. Instead, I’ll be telling you about a completely ridiculous customer service experience and the worst manager ever. (Her name is Kim, by the way. If someone named Kim whose resume says that she was a manager at KFC on Penn and 122nd in September of 2007, don’t ever hire her.)

Here’s how the transaction went from start to finish:

We drove up to the drive through window and after a few minutes, I heard a garbled message coming through the box that my son said was the drive-through girl saying she was ready to help us.

Me: We’d like a chicken pot pie with an order of mashed potatoes and a garlic Parmesan panini with mashed potatoes, a large ice water with extra ice and a large Dr. Pepper.

Window girl: Though I didn’t understand a word she said, according to my son, the great translator, she said they didn’t have pot pies ready.

Me: Okay, change the pot pie to two extra crispy breasts.

Window girl: So you want a six piece original and what?

Me: No; I never said anything about a six piece original. I want two extra crispy breasts and mashed potatoes and then the Garlic Parmesan Panini with mashed potatoes.

Window girl: Ohhhh, you want the panini.

Me: Yes, the Garlic Parmesan Panini.

Window girl: Okay, I have a number 2 wif 2 breasts and mashed potatoes and the panini with mashed potatoes, a large bottle of water and a large Dr. Pepper.

Me: No; I don’t want a bottle of water. I asked for water in a large cup with extra ice. I’ll pay the regular price for a drink if I have to.

Window girl: You don’t want bottled water?

Me: No. Like I said, I want it in a large cup with extra ice.

Window girl: So, you want a number 2 wif 2 breasts and mashed potatoes and the panini with mashed potatoes, a large ice water with extra ice and a large Dr. Pepper.

Me: Yes, and the breasts should be extra crispy and the panini should be the garlic Parmesan one. Is that what you have?

Window girl: (heavy sigh) Yes, two extra crispy breasts with mashed potatoes and the panini with mashed potatoes.

Me: That’s the Garlic Parmesan panini; right?

Window girl: (obviously annoyed) Yes. Pull forward.

Me: Thanks!

So we pulled up and waited for about five minutes before the girl would even look our way. Finally, she handed us our drinks. Mine was a medium instead of a large, but I’m used to that. Fast food restaurants generally have a hard time giving their patrons ice water for some reason, so I thought I’d let the size slide.

Then I took a drink. It wasn’t water; it was Sprite.

At that point, I tried to get the window girl’s attention, but she wouldn’t look our way. This went on for another five minutes or so until the food was ready. Finally, she returned to the window to give us our food.

Me: This was supposed to be water, but it’s Sprite. (At this point, I handed her back the Sprite.) Don’t worry about getting me another one; I’ll just get it at home.

Here’s where we made our mistake. Just happy that the order finally got to us, we drove off without opening up the boxes containing our order to see if the order was correct. It had to be right, because we’d clarified it so many times. How could anyone with a brain get it wrong?

When we got home, we were excited to eat our delicious order. (Yes, excited. We hadn’t gone to KFC for over a year, because every time we went to this particular restaurant, the customer service experience had been bad. But our love for their food made us try this one last time.)

I pulled out the order and my blood pressure doubled immediately. The mashed potatoes were both there, but my son got the chicken club panini and I had a breast and a wing - original, not extra crispy. My son does not even like club sandwiches, and I don’t like their original chicken. For me, it’s all about the extra crispy. Even worse, the “wing” they gave me was the size of a quarter. Literally. There wasn’t even any meat on the bone that a person could eat.

I picked up the phone and called the restaurant, vowing to remain calm and hoping to accomplish two things - I wanted an apology and I wanted the manager to understand that the continuing bad service at her restaurant was causing her to lose customers.

Here’s how that went:

Window girl answers: Thank you for calling KFC; how can I hep you? (All said with a wooden tone that said, “I don’t really mean thank you, and I don’t want to help you.)

Me: (in a calm business-like tone) Yes, I’d like to speak to the manager please.

Window girl: (sighs audibly and then yells to someone in the store) Tell Kim she have a manager call and see if she want me to take it. (There was no response to me at all.)

Me: No. I don’t want to talk to you. I want to speak to Kim if she’s the manager.

Window girl: (not responding to me at all again) Tell Kim she say she won’t talk to me. She want a manager.

Someone in the background: Kim say she’ll take this one.

After a few moments, Kim came on the line.

Kim, the manager on duty: This is the manager. How may I help you?

Me: Kim, I’m not calling you because I want anything. I don’t want my order corrected, and I don’t want a refund. I just want to tell you a story. First, let me start by telling you that every time I’ve ever been to your restaurant, I’ve never received good service. Because of that, we haven’t visited it in over a year, but we thought we’d give you another chance tonight.

At this point, I relayed the story about what happened that night. Then I ended with, “Kim, this is just unacceptable.“

Kim: (huffily) Well, you know we get new people all the time. (No apology whatsoever)

Me: Kim, I understand that new people have a learning curve, but this didn’t happen because your window girl is new. We repeated our order many times, because she kept getting it wrong. In the end, she pretended she had it written down correctly, rather than actually getting it correct. This is a case of her purposefully not doing her job.

Kim: Well, I’m looking at your ticket, and it says an original breast and wing and a chicken club panini.

Me: Kim, do you think we actually ordered something that we didn’t want? Do you really think those words came out of our mouths when we don’t even like those things?

Kim: Calm down and listen.

Me: (Still in the calm, business-like voice) Kim, I am calm. I haven’t raised my voice once. I’m just trying to give you some information to help you do your job, so you can fix it.

Kim: Hello? Hello?

Me: Kim, I’m on a landline, and so are you. I know you can hear me.

KFC: Silence on the phone other than the sound of people talking in the background and work going on in the kitchen.

Me: Kim, I know you’re still there. I can hear the background noise. You’re a manager. This kind of childish behavior is ridiculous for anyone but especially the store manager.

KFC: The sound of someone’s hand being put over the phone and the continued sound of background noise from the restaurant, proving that she heard what I’d said.

Me: (beside myself, to my son) Oh, my God! Now, the manager of the store is pretending she can’t hear me! She’s holding her hand over the phone, but I can still hear the background sounds. She knows I know she’s there, but she still won’t say a word! I’ve never experienced such a thing in my life!

My son: Mom, I told you those people don’t care. Give it up. They don’t want to get better, and they’re not going to tell you they’re sorry for your bad experience. Just hang up.

Me: Kim, I’m giving you one more chance to be a good manager. Quit pretending you don’t hear me and respond.

KFC: Continued sound of background noise.

Me: Okay, Kim. You’ve just earned yourself a letter to the owner and to the corporate office where I’ll be naming you by name and telling this story. If I were you, I’d get the resume ready, because I won’t give up until I see you fired for this.

And then I hung up.

Amazing.

I never raised my voice at all. I remained calm and business-like the whole time. And THAT’S how I was treated. No apology, an angry attitude and then a childish pretense from the one person who’s supposed to be running the place.

Honestly, my mind’s still reeling from the experience. It’s so beyond my idea of how a business should be run that it’s hard for even me to believe it happened.

So, save yourselves a LOT of hassle, citizens of Oklahoma City. Don’t visit Kim’s store. And if you are brave enough to try it and have a bad customer experience there, do what I did and tell the owner and the corporate office. They have the right to know.

Officers
President and Chief Concept Officer: Gregg R. Dedrick
COO: Harvey Brownlee Jr.
Director Public Relations: Laura Schalow

Customer Satisfaction Numbers
U.S. - 1-800-225-5532 (1-800-CALL KFC)
Canada - 1-866-664-5696

Online Customer Comment Forms
U.S. Feedback (Continental United States)
International/Hawaii/Canada Feedback (outside the Continental United States)

KFC’s Corporate Address for Comments
P.O. Box 725489
Atlanta, GA 31139

Owner of this KFC in Oklahoma City
KFC US Properties Inc.
DBA KFC Y336006
PO Box 35370
Louisville, KY 40232-5370

Stumble It!