Holiday of Lies
Dec. 7th, 2006 07:08 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
grrgoylIf there's one thing I hate about Christmas, it's the subterfuge required to keep presents a surprise until the magical day. The deception, the duplicity... It's wholly against my nature. At least 20 times a day I have to stop myself from telling Tery a story that might inadvertently reveal something I bought for her. I crack so easily under pressure. We tell each other where our stuff is hidden so we don't stumble across it accidentally. "Don't look too closely in the upstairs closet," I told her. She told me my gifts are all cleverly hidden on various store shelves and in shipping warehouses.
The need for secrecy has had me hanging by a thread in the case of one of her gifts, her own Motorola Razr. Back when T-Mobile was offering the upgrade for only $30, she was all, "No, I've just gotten used to my old phone. Why do I need a new one?" Now that the promotion has been upped to $50, she's noticed that her ghetto Nokia is too old for T-Mobile to offer downloads, and that the Razr has a kick-ass animated emoticon system that's not compatible with the Nokia. Suddenly, #2 on her wishlist is "Razor phone." *rolls eyes*
First I tried ordering it by calling T-Mobile. They said I couldn't have the upgrade until we paid off some of the overdue bill. Great. How could I pay the phone bill (which she normally does) without her becoming suspicious? My way around this was to offer to pay what I actually owed her already for my phone. Score! But the T-Mobile operator had mentioned that I could get the new phone at any local dealer, and that was more appealing to me than the further stress of hiding a visit from FedEx from her.
That night I ventured out in 8-degree weather and the first official snowstorm of the season to a T-Mobile kiosk. The salesman was super friendly, however, the problem was I wasn't on the account and could not authorize the contract extension necessary to qualify for the rebate. This was of mild annoyance because I specifically remember being put on the account when I needed warranty service on my phone a few months ago; guess it just didn't take. He apologized profusely even though I was very understanding. I thought for a minute, and was struck with inspiration. I had a cell phone on me. I stood on the icy sidewalk and called Tery, asking her to call T-Mobile and add me to the account, praying she couldn't tell I was calling from outside. "Why do they need you on the account just to pay the bill?" she asked. Uh-oh, hadn't thought of that. I said I didn't know, they just did. "I'm driving through 3 inches of snow, I'm not calling T-Mobile now!!" and she hung up. Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.....
If I were as smart as I thought I was, I would have just called T-Mobile myself. It's not as if they can distinguish my voice from hers and I know all her personal information. But I wasn't smart and I decided I just had to return the following morning. When Tery got home I had to nag her twice before she made the call. Again I hoped she didn't become suspicious at the sudden urgency to get this done, and every minute the temptation to just blurt out my hidden agenda pressed against my brain relentlessly.
Finally the deed was done. The next morning the minute her car disappeared from the parking lot, I was out the door. I was glad the same salesman was working, but first I had to wait behind this guy who wasn't shopping so much as delaying his return to the cold weather. He paid his bill, then started asking questions about rebate offers and phone features. Even after being told he wasn't eligible for an upgrade, having renewed his contract only a few months ago, he persisted. The salesman was infinitely patient and friendly throughout, while I stood there and gritted my teeth. The customer grasped at thinner and thinner straws until his last question, which was "Why don't the new Motorolas show the date? My old Motorola showed the date." By now I wasn't even trying to be subtle about rolling my eyes back in my head, but the salesman hung in there with a smile. He's a stronger person than I and props are due (I filled out a glowing online comment card about him).
I got my business done, paid the bill and got Tery's phone. DONE. I went home and contemplated deceptive ways of wrapping it so it wasn't obviously a phone, then felt immensely pleased with myself when I thought of sticking it inside an old coffee mug that she never uses.
But the parade of lies never ends. Today she asked me for proof of my payment to send to her hospital headquarters (they reimburse her a certain amount monthly). Gah. While she was in the shower I hurriedly leafed through the paperwork from my transaction. I had a receipt, however it had the address of the kiosk boldly printed across the top and an invitation to fill out a questionnaire on my in-store experience on the bottom. If she barely bought the lie about needing to be on the account to pay it, she ABSOLUTELY wouldn't buy that I left the house to do so. I briefly thought of scanning it into the computer and doctoring it, but this didn't seem like a wise idea for a document that would be sent to corporate. I'll just have to find some way of putting her off until after Christmas, I guess.
I'm simply not cut out for all this sneaking around. I have learned two things, however: Judge Judy is 100% right - If you tell the truth, you never have to worry about keeping your story straight. And, I'm never, ever buying a cell phone as a gift for anyone again.
The need for secrecy has had me hanging by a thread in the case of one of her gifts, her own Motorola Razr. Back when T-Mobile was offering the upgrade for only $30, she was all, "No, I've just gotten used to my old phone. Why do I need a new one?" Now that the promotion has been upped to $50, she's noticed that her ghetto Nokia is too old for T-Mobile to offer downloads, and that the Razr has a kick-ass animated emoticon system that's not compatible with the Nokia. Suddenly, #2 on her wishlist is "Razor phone." *rolls eyes*
First I tried ordering it by calling T-Mobile. They said I couldn't have the upgrade until we paid off some of the overdue bill. Great. How could I pay the phone bill (which she normally does) without her becoming suspicious? My way around this was to offer to pay what I actually owed her already for my phone. Score! But the T-Mobile operator had mentioned that I could get the new phone at any local dealer, and that was more appealing to me than the further stress of hiding a visit from FedEx from her.
That night I ventured out in 8-degree weather and the first official snowstorm of the season to a T-Mobile kiosk. The salesman was super friendly, however, the problem was I wasn't on the account and could not authorize the contract extension necessary to qualify for the rebate. This was of mild annoyance because I specifically remember being put on the account when I needed warranty service on my phone a few months ago; guess it just didn't take. He apologized profusely even though I was very understanding. I thought for a minute, and was struck with inspiration. I had a cell phone on me. I stood on the icy sidewalk and called Tery, asking her to call T-Mobile and add me to the account, praying she couldn't tell I was calling from outside. "Why do they need you on the account just to pay the bill?" she asked. Uh-oh, hadn't thought of that. I said I didn't know, they just did. "I'm driving through 3 inches of snow, I'm not calling T-Mobile now!!" and she hung up. Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.....
If I were as smart as I thought I was, I would have just called T-Mobile myself. It's not as if they can distinguish my voice from hers and I know all her personal information. But I wasn't smart and I decided I just had to return the following morning. When Tery got home I had to nag her twice before she made the call. Again I hoped she didn't become suspicious at the sudden urgency to get this done, and every minute the temptation to just blurt out my hidden agenda pressed against my brain relentlessly.
Finally the deed was done. The next morning the minute her car disappeared from the parking lot, I was out the door. I was glad the same salesman was working, but first I had to wait behind this guy who wasn't shopping so much as delaying his return to the cold weather. He paid his bill, then started asking questions about rebate offers and phone features. Even after being told he wasn't eligible for an upgrade, having renewed his contract only a few months ago, he persisted. The salesman was infinitely patient and friendly throughout, while I stood there and gritted my teeth. The customer grasped at thinner and thinner straws until his last question, which was "Why don't the new Motorolas show the date? My old Motorola showed the date." By now I wasn't even trying to be subtle about rolling my eyes back in my head, but the salesman hung in there with a smile. He's a stronger person than I and props are due (I filled out a glowing online comment card about him).
I got my business done, paid the bill and got Tery's phone. DONE. I went home and contemplated deceptive ways of wrapping it so it wasn't obviously a phone, then felt immensely pleased with myself when I thought of sticking it inside an old coffee mug that she never uses.
But the parade of lies never ends. Today she asked me for proof of my payment to send to her hospital headquarters (they reimburse her a certain amount monthly). Gah. While she was in the shower I hurriedly leafed through the paperwork from my transaction. I had a receipt, however it had the address of the kiosk boldly printed across the top and an invitation to fill out a questionnaire on my in-store experience on the bottom. If she barely bought the lie about needing to be on the account to pay it, she ABSOLUTELY wouldn't buy that I left the house to do so. I briefly thought of scanning it into the computer and doctoring it, but this didn't seem like a wise idea for a document that would be sent to corporate. I'll just have to find some way of putting her off until after Christmas, I guess.
I'm simply not cut out for all this sneaking around. I have learned two things, however: Judge Judy is 100% right - If you tell the truth, you never have to worry about keeping your story straight. And, I'm never, ever buying a cell phone as a gift for anyone again.
