A Different Point of View

I find myself short-winded a lot lately. I suffer from shortness of breath, labored breathing, maybe even feeling somewhat dizzy and lightheaded. Oftentimes, I find myself hyperventilating and have to stop and take deep breaths to recover.

You might think that I may have some sort of medical condition that affects my breathing apparatus, or that I may have contracted—God forbid—the C-word. But, my condition is brought about by these politicians with their newfound powers to tell me what to do. It is caused by having to wear a mask all the time.

We normally breathe in oxygen and breathe out carbon dioxide. With the mask covering both my mouth and my nose, well, the Carbon Dioxide comes out but then stays inside the mask. With every breath that I take, the amount of oxygen going in is reduced more and more each time, until I am breathing in Carbon Dioxide and I am breathing out Carbon Dioxide. Our system is not made to work that way. As a result, I suffer from all kinds of breathing issues. I might as well start smoking.

What difference would that even make? Levels of oxygen entering my lungs would be diminished either way, but at least a nicotine hit would make me feel better. (Kids, don’t try this at home. I am only sarcastic. You know, like every freaking sentence that comes out of your mouths these days, now that I have to put up with your [s-word] all the time). There are additional problems with wearing a mask.

Now, no one can see my beautiful smile or properly hear my melodious voice. It has made flirting so much more difficult. I have to open my eyes extra wide and lift my cheeks extra high, just so people can see that I am smiling, and not just staring them down. I think most of the workers at these fast food places that I am forced to patronize are going deaf. They can’t hear when I place my order. I keep shouting louder and louder, until I have no choice but to remove my mask and tell them what I am ordering.

(Breathing Problems)

Then they get upset because I am too loud. I can’t win. What’s the point of shaving, if I have to keep my handsome face hidden all the time? Why should I even bother brushing my teeth, when no one is going to be near enough to know the difference? (Actually, I know the difference, when that carbon dioxide that I inhale has this exotic flavor to it. Yes, eww, indeed.) God, was my ears always this big, now that the focus is on them what with the elastic of my homemade facemask pulling them forward.

My ears weren’t pulled this hard, with this much pain, ever since I said something rude to my mother those one thousand and one years ago. Many times, I find myself looking for my glasses, even when my glasses are right on my face. I can’t feel them because the pressure of the mask makes the pressure of my glasses disappear. The only time I know that I have my glasses on is when my breathing fogs up my lenses and I find myself working through blurred vision.

It would be an understatement when I say that I can’t wait for this lockdown to end. I can’t wait to go out and be able to show my face—literally—to the people around me. I can’t wait when clearing of my throat doesn’t send people running away from me. I can’t wait until I can say thank you with the shake of hands, instead of waving from a distance.

Until then, if you see me wobbling around and collapsing in front of you, no need for mouth to mouth resuscitation when I do hit the ground. Just remove my mask and let me breathe some fresh air.

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A Different Point of View

It was at the beginning of this Social Distancing movement when I went to the bank and saw all the tellers wearing gloves and some customers wearing masks. There were huge—and I mean HUGE—bottles of hand sanitizer at many tables for people to use. While standing in line, I made a joke with my friendly banker, Ben. I said, “Hey Ben, if a bank robber were to come now, do you know how I would fend him off?” After a slight pause, I added, “I would shake his hand and scare the heck out of him.” We both laughed.

Only, I laughed a little harder and choked a bit. When Ben heard me cough, he screamed, “23-19, 23-19!” Like in the movie Monsters, Inc. Next thing I know, CDC agents are climbing down the walls, jumping down from the ceiling, and grabbing me aggressively. I was stripped naked; my clothes burnt in a special containment unit, and I was taken home to self-quarantine myself. I kid a little here. I know that a lot of celebrities and some world leaders are isolating themselves and exercising self-quarantine. These are people with money who don’t have to work for a living.

How does a person like me, who lives from paycheck to paycheck and who has maxed out all of his credit cards while buying the latest cell phones for the entire family, can afford to self-quarantine himself? I mean, I have to open my business every morning for non-existent customers. Our governor is telling us that people over 65 years of age should stay home and not go out anywhere. This is Hemet, and ALL of my customers are over 65 years of age. How in the world, then do I stay open? I also have to make sure that I am at work before any of my employees show up so I can hide the time-clock and keep them from punching in as per the schedule. I then make them wait a few hours, pretending to look for it, before sending them home, just in case I do get some business.

I then have to calculate how much money I have actually lost at the end of the day before going home every evening. If I were to self-quarantine, who would then see my business going down so fast, like most red-blooded Americans, I don’t have any money saved up. My backup plan is no good now that the casinos are also closing for the foreseeable future. I’ve given up long ago on winning the lottery. The only thing left for me to do is to try to hide my sinister undertones when I call the credit card companies and ask them to increase my limit. I don’t want to spook them and then not be able to charge all my utility bills. As it is now, my payroll checks are bouncing higher than all the basketballs now tucked away in storage, as the season has ended prematurely. What is worst, my kids are now at home because all the schools are closed.

Social Distancing protocol says that we must stay at least six feet away from each other. My wife and I sleep in different beds, in separate rooms, and almost in different houses. I dare not give her a kiss, lest we have to gargle with bleach. (Don’t try this at home. It is very dangerous.) I dare not hug my kids, lest my kids wipe themselves with Lysol. When my kids are sitting in a therapist’s chair, twenty years from now, whining about their father not showing any affection towards them, I hope the therapist is smart enough to tell them that their father actually loved them too much. It is just that he couldn’t touch them, due to, you know, COVID 19. My wife would be telling a similar tale, only probably in two months from now. Once we used to worry about STD’s. Now that seems mild compared to Coronavirus.

By the way, I told my wife about the bank tellers using gloves to handle money. She thought that it was a good idea since she also handles money at our business. She decided to use gloves as well. I don’t know how to tell you this when I saw those medical gloves on her beautiful hands and that beautiful smile on her lips; I had this sudden urge to bend over and have my prostate checked. Go figure!

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A Different Point of View

One of my pet peeves is the ability of the general public to post reviews about a business without regard to the truth or falsity of their claims. I am sure I am not alone in this one where many times a customer has decided to wield his or her incredible power, granted by Yelp, Facebook, Google or any similar social media platform, to stick it to the business that did not perform to their high standards. In most instances, such reviews are either giving high praise for a job well done by the establishment or giving low marks and spewing negative comments because the business did not live up to one’s expectations.

Whereas such reviews can help any business improve their customer service and offer a more pleasing experience, oftentimes, each review is nothing more than an unfair rant about insignificant issues. While there are legitimate reasons for giving a negative review, I have found that most often it is the mood of the customer that determines how negative the review is going to be, while there really was no lack of customer service.

Just to highlight the unfairness of such reviews, one couple wrote in their review that they had been coming to our place for years and years and never had a problem. That day, we had a rush and took a little longer to finish the job, and that was enough of a reason to never come back. Years and years of good work was wiped away in one unfortunate day. I have, on more than three occasions, been blackmailed by some customers that if I did not provide extra service at no charge, they were going to give a negative review and ruin my business.

Such negative reviews, specially those that were done out of malice, can hurt a business that has been providing a much-needed service for decades. In some cases, such reviews are the work of a competitor and not really that of a proper customer. But the reviews linger on for years and years under the umbrella of free speech, with no discourse for the business to tell their side of the story. Yes, the business can provide a reply, but often, the reader of such reply believes only the customer.

Yet, we all know that there are some horrible customers, who derive pleasure from torturing the very service provider that they need. What about the ability of the business to fight back? What about the right of the business to rate the customer, in the same manner as the customer can rate the business? Wouldn’t that be the fair thing to do in this land of ours?!

Here are examples of some such customers that I have come across in my business:

One young couple, with a young child, let loose their kid in our waiting area. This kid decided to push everything off the shelves and even knocked some of the shelves down. When we politely pointed that their child could actually get hurt, they got mad. Who the heck are you to tell us how to raise our child?! Now, I would like to rate that couple to let other businesses know what to expect.

One middle-aged couple entered our business arguing about one thing or another. Husband proceeded to throw the money in front of our cashier in disgust because he was angry with his wife. When cashier puts the change in front of him, instead of handing it to him, they both start cursing that she was being rude. Another set, in need of rating.

Young lady with two kids, who destroyed our flowerbed; elderly lady who got mad and started using foul language because we asked if she was a senior so we could give her the senior discount—how dare we think that she was so old; the gentleman with tattoos all over his face and head, who always takes things without paying; the racist middle-aged man who likes to show his language skills by using the most disrespectful words with our employees; the mother of five with sixth child on the way, busy taking selfies while her kids go on a rampage with our products; elderly man who is always angry because he has these aches and pains and then goes on to abuse our workers as his therapy; all those countless clients who want to pay for the lowest service we provide and try to get ten times more by complaining vehemently; all should be rated so that other businesses can be forewarned.

Companies like Uber and Airbnb have already started rating their customers. Many websites are popping up for contractors and builders, rating their encounters with certain customers, to keep other fellow professionals from being mistreated. Bad customers, nasty customers, unfair customers, those are some of the keywords you can use to search for such websites. But they lack the power and reach of Yelp, Facebook, and Google, so it is an uphill battle for now.

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