Fifty years ago, as a young Army bride, I lived in Munich, Germany for three years. Yesterday I went to my local AT&T store to arrange for International phone service in preparation for a month-long trip to Europe and the UK, to revisit the past and relish the present.
My GoPhone, I was solemnly told, would not work for travelling abroad. It wouldn't take the International sim card. I'd have to trade it in for a "quad" (whatever that is: I don't especially care, as long as it works.) So I picked out a cell called a Navigator. It was the least expensive choice, but it appealed to me because it came in red: my favorite color.
Only one problem: I would also need an authorization for an upgrade, which the young man with the unsmiling mien, after a few minutes consulting his computer, informed me had to be approved by my daughter, who pays the bill, and AT&T service. Okay, Let's do it. I got my daughter on the phone, the serious salesman explained what she had to do, and then informed me it would take about ten minutes to get approval. Fine. I went outside to smoke one of my Eve 120 UltraLights, a seven minute interval, while he tapped on his computer some more and discussed the upgrade with customer service.
This time, when I approached the counter, I wasn't alone. Another AT&T rep was talking to a tall, slender, extremely handsome young black man attired in fashionably baggy white-stencilled black jeans. I turned to him and said, "Your jeans are really pretty."
Thank you," he replied.
"It's too bad they don't fit," I said.
He promptly yanked the jeans up over his slim hips. "That's better," I said. "Now they cover your, uh.... tush! Which is also pretty, but do you really want it on display?" Both salesmen and the gentleman stared at me aghast. I burst out laughing. "I'm old enough to be your Grandma, but I can still look!" and, with that, turned to my salesman. The bored stare was gone from his face. "I'm seventy-one," I added. "You're seventy-one? You don't look seventy-one," he blurted. "Thanks," I said.
Mission accomplished. I felt much better as I paid for my purchase and headed out to my truck, my shiny new Navigator in my bag. I'd made somebody's day.
skip to main |
skip to sidebar
Dashing off to Europe and the UK sounds like a great way to spend a college summer vacation. But here's an intrepid seventy-one grandmother who's off to see the world- or at least part of it- on her own, with "no reservations."
