Instead, I spent my Saturday morning becoming an amateur paralegal. You know those companies that proudly put "Technology" in their name? Apparently, technology no longer includes answering a telephone. Or accepting an email with an attachment.
Several months ago, I canceled an Uber One membership that Mr. 12 accidentally opened. Not only did I cancel it, Uber actually sent me an email saying they had canceled it. Their exact words?
"You will not be charged moving forward."
Excellent! Case closed. Except...
April: Charged.
May: Charged.
June: Charged.
July: Charged.
Apparently "moving forward" and I have very different definitions. Being the retired office manager that I am, I did what any reasonable person would do.
I made copies. I highlighted bank statements. I printed the cancellation email. I labeled everything "Exhibit A," "Exhibit B," and so on.
At one point I realized I wasn't organizing paperwork anymore... I was building a legal brief.
Tomorrow's trip to the Post Office suddenly became much more exciting. Certified Mail. Return Receipt Requested.
It sounds like the title of an old detective movie.
Meanwhile, all I really wanted was to enjoy my Saturday morning with an iced coffee.
Instead, I now know more about consumer protection than I ever expected.
The good news? I'm pretty sure I have enough documentation to make a retired judge smile.
The bad news? I still don't have my Saturday morning back.
Maybe that's the real lesson about aging.
You finally have the time to relax...
...and corporations decide that's the perfect opportunity to give you a new hobby. Mine apparently is collecting evidence.
If you need me, I'll be at the Post Office on Monday.
Wish me luck. If my grandkids ever wonder what Gramma did in retirement, they should know I fought the good fight... armed with a highlighter, a stapler, and an iced coffee.
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