February 6 - February 12, 2000

Sunday, February 6


Monday, February 7


Tuesday, February 8


Wednesday, February 9


Thursday, February 10


Friday, February 11


Saturday, February 12
Don and I went over to the Universal Shopping Hospital today (which is what we call the Standford University Shopping Mall and Medical Centre Complex). We needed to make some changes in our Crate and Barrel and Macy's registries.

I took care of the Crate & Barrel stuff while Don took care of Macy's. At Crate and Barrel, we needed to add an item and change one on our "wish list." We had asked for enough silverware to serve 8 people. Instead, they had listed eight complete flatware sets, enough to serve 32. While we could probably use that many teaspoons, I have no use whatsoever for that many salad forks.

Now, you'd think this sort of correction was a fairly common thing and they'd have worked out an on-line system to deal with it--at least in-store, if not on the Internet. Not so. The only way C&B could change our list was to have me fill out a paper "update" form that deleted the "8" on one line and then added the "2" on another. On both lines, I had to list the complete sku number, price, and description. I also had to look up the sku number for the dessert plates we wanted. There was no way to access the number on-line. I had to be physically present in the store, walk over to the plates, turn them over, and find the tiny little print on the tiny little tag that gave the "sku" number. And they call this the New Millennium!

While filling out the form, I noticed that they had the "ring ceremony" date wrong, but there was no place on the Update form to change it. Now, they have places where you can change the names of the participants in the ceremony, for God's sake, but noplace to change the date! In fact, you HAD to fill in the names of both registrants again or they wouldn't get the order right. Theoretically, I could have changed both our names and it would be considered an "update." Apparently, who you marry isn't as important as GETTING TO THE CHURCH ON TIME.

But how to change the date? "Oh," said a helpful clerk, "just right it across the top of the form and put stars around it so they notice."

At Macy's, on the other hand, all Don had to do was enter the right information in on an in-store computer terminal. Don had some trouble doing this. The first problem was finding where to enter the information. He asked for directions, and was told, "It's the kiosk between the two mirrored pillars." Ever imagine what a "mirrored pillar" looks like to someone with brain damage? And what is your vision of what a "kiosk" is? I imagine something that's a cross between a newspaper stand and a cofee cart. But I'd be wrong. A "kiosk" is what the computer industry has decided to call a computer terminal that your customer can use to enter information and queries without fucking up your inventory or billing system.

Don finally asked someone to come over and help him find it. It turns out the "kiosk" was simply a CRT on a countertop. He didn't know if he was the bride or the groom, and what kind of event we were registered under. But after practicing a little "Brownian motion" on the keyboard, he was able to find us and delete the microwave oven.

I had gone shopping for a pair of jeans at The Gap, so his next task was to find me. He couldn't remember which door he had gone into Macy's through or where that was in relation to the door he had just exited Macy's from. However, he did find a map of the Mall with a prominent "You Are Here" dot, and from that figured out where The Gap was, which is where I was waiting for him. He found me all right. Or, at least, he found the store. He walked right past me without seeing me because I was (most inconsiderately) on his left.

But the upshot of this story is that Don was able to figure out the Macy's on-line ordering system and make the necessary changes, whereas I had nothing but trouble from the C&B system. Clearly, more gay couples need to register at Crate & Barrel so they can get their services up to speed.

The perfect gift for the brain-damaged couple: His & His GPS systems and a pair of large orange dots they can wear on their heads.



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© 2000 Louis Flint Ceci / ceci@best.com