Confessions of a FastTax Techie

So, with the new product being launched in mid-November, my company is getting ready to send out the automatic renewal customers the product, this weekend we began sending authorizations for charges. Authorizations. That is all; we have yet to charge anyone for the product, as it states in the e-mail “you will not be charged until the product actually ships. And yet Monday, while I was in training we were in queue. 600 calls waiting to be taken at 8:30 AM. Cancel training. We’re on the phones.

What you don’t understand is these people were sent eight, count it, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, and eight mailers since august telling them to either update or cancel their automatic renewal. So why, are they so shocked now? Even worse, these people SIGN UP for this.. (Read the small print people, read… the... small… print)

I’ve been stuck on e-mails to update customer information on the automatic renewals (and have done over time to do this for the past two days.) This is an actual e-mail I received from a customer. The only thing that has been changed is the name, to protect me and the innocent little moron who sent the e-mail.


Please do mot send me this product your company said i ordered it. I never order or set up auto renewal for this product. Please, do not mail me, I do not want to touch it, it any product comes to me, I will have to sue your company for mailing such products and taking money from my account for such product I do not order.

Plerase be advised.THanks,

Lamer McLamerson

Okay first of all, was he suffering from fat finger situation? Second of all, spell check… Learn it. Live it. Love it.

Thank you.

Also, I was unaware that this product was like slim that you hold it in such strong regards as to not even wanting to TOUCH it. Oh goodness, its toxic. Watch out.

And third of all, good luck suing because you can’t read, I’m sure that will hold up real strong. “But your honor, I can’t read!” Good Argument buddy, good Argument.

Could you take my picture? ‘Cuz I wont remember

So I guess I should break out the photo album and maybe even do a post relating to photography.

A little inside information on what started the photography craze inside of my soul.

I was standing on the beach in southern California and the sun was beginning to set. Each day we would wake up to clear skies and sunshine but upon sun setting the clouds would roll in. On this particular day, the sun was shinning through the clouds in what I now refer to as “God’s Light” because it gives me a very cathedral like feeling ::insert monks praying sound here:: With my handy dandy disposable camera, I snapped a picture.

Upon my return to Arizona, I developed the film from the trip. This among many other photos stood out in my brain. This was something I was born to do, or was I? I had always considered myself a writer so the thought that I had a talent for something other than writing never occurred to me, I gently shoved aside my photography desires and continued with my writing interest, focusing very heavily on these goals.

It wouldn’t be until a year later that the photography flame was ignited again when I snapped this picture of my best friend Ashley (See below.) Something about the dept to this pictures the clouds and the desolate background to where she stood. From this photograph the flame was ignited once more. I spent the next 4 years trying to convince my grandmother to buy me a digital camera from my birthday. Until then I continued my ventures with all of the disposable cameras I had, trying to be creative in the photos I took. I was 17 at the time.



It wasn’t until I was 21 that my grandmother FINALLY heard my wishes and for Christmas I received a digital camera. After two months of using my Fuji FinePix 350,I upgraded to the Fuji FinePix S5200… I have since done 3 independent photo shoots with friends and 1 paid wedding.

The first picture ant the last pictures are of my good friend Kat. They are from a recent “Fallen Angel” shoot I did with her in a local grave yard here in Tucson, Arizona.



I was told I had “an eye for photography” what do you think?

I'll have whatever you have come on, just give it up girl

The beat was pumping; the groove was strong, bodies pressed against one another. In their skimpy skirts and revealing shirts, the girls of the night were dressed to kill. Well, except for maybe that weird guy in the corner with the facial hair who kept twitching occasionally as he sipped his drink quietly and gawked… awkward.

Okay so maybe not everyone was dressed to kill.

Let’s see if I can paint a picture for you. I’m a slightly overweight…....okay moderately overweight…... alright I’m a fat kid who’s very insecure in a club/bar setting. So instead of slipping into the tightest clothes possible...

Oh you all know the story, overweight girl squeezes into skirt she shouldn’t be wearing that’s about 4 inches from her kooter with cellulite thighs jiggling when she walks and a top that exposes the flabby arms (that’s she also shouldn’t be wearing.) Yeah, that story. Are you repulsed yet? I am.

But not me, no, I wore a long sleeved knit charcoal sweater that buttoned with 3 buttons into a V-neck, under I was wearing a tank top with bra built in (no really, there’s like a bra sewn into the tank top) and then another tank top over it. A pair of jeans, and combat boots, yes I wore combat boots to a club, where usually you’re supposed to dress to impress and by guidelines that mean you are not supposed to be even remotely comfortable. I was.

My first drink of the night was a shot of Jager. First of all, that drinks taste like black licorice. Have I mentioned I absolutely despise black licorice? So drink one was followed by drink 2, because obviously 2 follows 1… Blow job, which I was then handed black label whiskey, which I drank… and liked. Followed by another shot of Jager and then sex on the beach… this coming from the girl who had one Chocolate Martini got tipsy a few days ago?

So after this I was feeling… That whoever decided to put stairs in a bar was a fucking moron… Then one of my friends decided pouring beer down my shirt would be good. So I smelled of beer and my cleavage was sticky… How’s that for dressed to impress?

So the beat was strong, and for the first 10 minutes I felt out of place and lost, after the third drink I was feeling a bit better, the 4 drink was awesome. But I do need to learn to grow some balls and tell people to move. Because squeaking, “excuse me” isn’t going to get people out of my way.

Ode to my customers who took the Stupid Pill

I guess I should back up a bit and give a little explanation of where exactly I work. I work for a Company that assists with the tax filing. It's product is an actual tax filing program. For the purpose of this demonstration we’ll call it… FastTax...

The following are mostly true events; well they were the dialogue I created after experiences very similar, if not identical to what happens below. I got a good laugh out of it, figured I could share it.

Its funny how placing a customer on hold when they cannot get the correct information for you turns on a light bulb in their head.

Me: "May I have your account number, it should be located on the letter you received" Customer: "I cant find it"
Me(pauses, looks irritated): "Let me place you on hold while I research the account a bit further"
::Customer Placed on hold::
Me(after a 2 minutes of hold time): "Thank you for holding, I apologize for the delay"
Customer: "I found the account number"
Me (Thinks to self, I knew you would): Excellent what is it?

Same conversation (updating credit card number)

Me: I am ready for your new credit card number
Customer: Do you want me to read it to you?
Me: (to self) No, I aced my mind reading class, is it :: mumbles some number::
Me (for real this time in a sugary sweet voice.): Yes, please.

The following below didn’t actually happen… well... in my head it did.

Me: "I'm sorry Mr. Customer, are you retarded? No this is a serious question, do you suffer from mental disabilities that would enable you to function and think as a normal person?" Customer: Uh, no...
Me: Are you sure? You could probably get a tax cut for it.... Think about that for a second. I'll hold.

I need a price check on my sanity....

So there are a few things in my life that irritate the crap out of me… Work is one of them. I dream of being paid to be me… I’d like being able to just go around take pictures, set my own schedule. Does anyone know where I can find someone rich that wants to support my photography habit and me?

So anyway, that dream is a little bit out of my reach for now, so… I guess I just have these little stories to share as I move slowly, and by slowly I mean at a complete stop towards this dream…

Being a technical support agent is both mind-numbing and hysterical… but only because the job drives you to drink… That’s when it becomes funny...Our motto “Drink till you can’t feel what’s wrong.”

This is just one customer experience, I’m pretty sure there will be more.

It’s really bad when you have customers whose chairs are smarter than they are.

Example 1: The customer moved a folder from his My Documents to his Desktop.... So what's different?

This is what a path file location might look like...

C:/Documents and Settings/Jennie/My Documents/FastTax/ Jennie.tax

C:/Desktop/FastTax/Jennie.tax They have different FILE paths...

::bangs head against desk::

A program has to follow a certain file path. if you MOVE the folder that the program is used to following the computer goes "Wha? Where did it go? It’s gone!”::gasp::

Then it gives you an error message. In order to FIX that, you must tell the program, where the new file location is, by opening it....

Analogy I gave the Customer...

Your front door, you walk out it the same way every time.

One day you decide that you don't like where your front door is, so you remodel your house and move the location of your door and fill in the old spot with a wall.

So then that One day you forget you moved the door and go to walk out it where it used to be, but you cant, instead you walk face first into a wall... You say ouch, and your brain goes "oh, you moved the door, where did you move it" and then you tell your body to go where the new door is and you are able to exit your house.

He STILL did not understand the concept.......

I was telling a friend of this and he said, "Scares you to continue living, huh? For fear they might "infect" you ... as in "28 days later'"

To which my finally words are....

Get it off get it off its sucking my will to live! (Thank you Waynes world... Thank you Garth)

Why do I read the writing on the wall

Well, this is probably my third bloging site…I decided this was going to be for a select few of my friends. The idea came to me yesterday while I was at work… I had a Trapt song stuck in my head, just a bit of it “Why do I read the writing on the wall"

And I decided that too often in life I don’t read the writing on the wall. By this I mean I don’t write enough thoughts that are random, I always have a set purpose for the other blogs I have instead of posting the random poetry, writing tidbits, quotes, ideas, and photos.

This is going to be the place for me to do so. With out any further “ado”, My First Post…

I can't explain what happened that day. All I know is things changed. The wind seemed the blow colder, nipping at my cheeks. If I had any tears left to cry, I'm almost positive they would have frozen to the rose petal red cheeks I had that December morning.

I balled my fist, my instinct wanted to strike him, knock him to the ground just to be able to see him finally fall. I wanted to get the rage away from me. To release the furry I had never felt so strong in my life.

I looked into his icy blue eyes. He was distant, almost vacant. My own brown eyes seemed to bleed into him. He had all of me. He was the only one who could make me crumble with very few words. The only one who could bandage the wounds.

It amazed me; the power he had.