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Cell Phone Mad Science

March 8, 2012 By Talya Tate Boerner

Why do loan documents have to be printed in super gigantic mickey mouse fonts with rescindable language and simple simon sentences, such as YOU MUST REPAY THIS DEBT and THE VALUE OF YOUR HOUSE MAY DECLINE, but cell phone companies can apparently do whatever they please, hiding fees and charges and embedding undisclosed codes within mystery plans that not even a nuclear rocket scientist could interpret, much less the average homeowner who makes payments on a home he can’t afford. It is maddening.
Shouldn’t Dodd Frank be all up in this monkey business? Where are the consumer advocates? Oh yes, the government researches driving and texting, which is terrible, as well as cell phone radiation, but what about consumer billing protection and tricky cell phone lingo? I dare say no one can understand a cell phone statement.
John and I had an hour+ long conference call yesterday afternoon with Stacey from AT&T, trying to add John to my plan. Of course an additional line is advertised for a mere $9.99. But it seems my current super special plan is so secret that it’s no longer available; therefore, we were forced to change our entire plan.
Stacey was a yacker. She explained all sorts of plans until my head was spinning. I tried to get my arms around the difference between anytime, nighttime, and weekend minutes. Would I would be roaming at nighttime or anytime at all? Did we need FamilyMap for $9.99/month to locate up to 2 family members? What was this tracking devise, like a skip trace? I know some people who probably need this feature… There was pay as you go, prepay, and push to talk…? No thanks, we will just keep our current pay out the butt plan. Stacey could be an auctioneer.
Once we agreed on something – I have no idea what but our decision was recorded for security purposes – she was required to run my credit report. Why!? Doesn’t my perfect payment history warrant adding John to the account for $9.99 without a credit check? John is the only person working in our household. They should be tracking him down and begging to add him to the plan. I needed to pop in my night guard – I caught myself grinding and clenching my teeth.
While I was sequestered on this call, I made the bed, loaded and started the dishwasher and stuffed and basted a chicken for dinner. The chicken was smelling mighty delicious by the time Stacey recapped our entire plan for quality control reasons. My last root canal was less painful, and I received hydrocodone as a parting gift. This call resulted in a shiny new mystery cell plan, 4,000 free rollover minutes and a dull headache.
I pray Stacey got all the complicated cell plan changes input before the massive solar flares began threatening world wide electronic systems today. My Facebook sure has been slow this morning.
talya
Musical Pairings:
Blondie, “Call Me”
Jimmy Buffet, “If the Phone Doesn’t  Ring, It’s Me”

Pepperoni Pizza for Prisoners

March 5, 2012 By Talya Tate Boerner

Ken’s Pizza, Eufaula, Ok

It’s not everyday you get to dine with a prisoner chain gang. Driving to Fayetteville Friday, we stopped for lunch in Eufaula, Oklahoma. According to Urbanspoon, our lunch choices included Ken’s Pizza, a sketchy mexican place and I Smell Bacon. Now, I know exactly what you’re thinking. “How, could you pass up I Smell Bacon?” There was much discussion and debate, but we ended up at Ken’s. John loved Ken’s as a kid, and according to the Eufaula foodies, it had the highest rating on Urbanspoon.


As you might expect, the pizza was cold and cardboardish and rice-cake-like. The salad bar – a nod to 1977 – contained a big center bowl of wilted iceberg lettuce surrounded by smaller bowls of fixins such as cheddar cheese, fake bacon bits, purple onions, beets, tomatoes, broccoli and lots of mayonnaise-y salads like pasta, cole slaw, cottage cheese, and macaroni. And many of the veggies were pickled and vinegary, even the cucumbers which was a jolt to the taste buds. To accompany this, ranch, thousand island and bright glo in the dark orange French, which is what I selected. It was like walking through a worm hole into Ken’s in Osceola. I could see myself sitting in the big corner booth, wearing my cheerleader uniform, with Steve, Norma and Vic – after a high school football game. 

It was 1:00 – apparently closer to siesta time than lunch time in Eufaula. Other than one lone Billy Ray Cyrus lookalike in the corner booth, we were the only patrons. The leftover pizza slices were sadly lying under those warming lights that are less effective than an Easy Bake Oven. Until the prisoners arrived. They had a reservation.

A large table was prepared in the center of the restaurant, with pitchers of iced tea and place settings complete with silverware (including knives) and napkins. Magically, fresh new hot pizza pies were pulled from the ovens, perfectly timed and placed on the buffet just as the Eufaula prison work crew walked inside wearing matching white and orange striped prisonwear. They were accompanied by the sheriff who provided no sense of security or peace of mind whatsoever. He was slow and stooped and was being trusted with two guns. OhGreat! No doubt, we would soon be involved in a Eufaula hostage situation. (My mother has a history with hostages – another story for another day…)


Eufaula Foodies

The pizza waitress became spirited and animated to see the prison work crew – flirting and talking and patting one guy on the shoulder. She probably went to prom with him? Or he was her cousin Bubba? They lined up, piled their plates with food, and then lunched at their reserved table laughing and talking and chowing down like they were VIPs in town scouting movie locations. Were these popular prisoners the Eufaula foodies who rated Ken’s so favorably on Urbanspoon? Luckily they were well behaved. And, thanks to the prisoners, we enjoyed a slice of hot fresh pizza before leaving. 

Did the citizens of this county realize they were paying for the prisoners to eat Ken’s pizza during their litter lunch break? If I go to prison, I want to be on this chain gang. Fresh air and all you can eat pizza buffet.  Of course the horizontal stripes are a bit tough to pull off.


talya

Musical Pairings:

Elvis Presley, “Jailhouse Rock”
Johnny Cash, “Folsom Prison Blues”

“We’re rapidly approaching a world comprised entirely of jail and shopping.”
Doug Coupland (Canadian novelist)

Best restaurant name ever!




Yet Another Insane Nail Salon Story

March 2, 2012 By Talya Tate Boerner

80 degrees calls for a pedicure. Pulling into the parking lot early, I was happy to see no customers there yet. The five employees were practically in a receiving line, so thrilled to see my neglected toes stroll in. Was I the 5,000th customer on this Leap Day? Would there be balloons? Guess not. After carefully selecting my polish – I debated between “Suzi Loves Cowboys” and “I Don’t Give a Rotterdam!” – I settled into the massage chair with a copy of Bon Appetit, which of course made me hungry. About halfway through the routine, it was still quiet and peaceful, and I began to think this might just be my most uneventful experience at this place. Ever. Knock-on-wood. 

A girl walked in to get her legs waxed. Wow. Her whole legs? That must be painful and expensive. The ladies became a bit animated over this. There was chattering and pointing about who would take on this assignment. After a Vietnamese rock-paper-scissors game, the lady already doing my feet, disappeared into the back room with the leg wax girl, and my toes were shuffled off to a lesser technician. 

A few minutes later, an older lady came in for a nail fill. She sat near me and was attended to quickly. Still later, a well dressed businessman entered, with a rolled poster tucked underneath his arm. He spoke to the salon owner, explaining that he was selling ads for the Woodrow Wilson High School football calendar to be published next fall. Would the salon purchase a small ad for $100? The owner was suddenly struck mute. No one spoke. Everyone looked around in complete silence. The only sound was a Vietnamese instrumental rendition of Bridge Over Troubled Waters playing in the background. It was awkward.

Suddenly, the nail fill lady jumped in wholeheartedly with both feet and hands speaking to the businessman, as if the salon workers couldn’t hear her – “Yes, that is a good thing to do! A local business should support the local schools. Businesses only want us to support them. They should give back too!” She asked to see the calendar. “Oh that’s a very, very nice calendar. (Two verys with a s-l-o-w emphasis on the last very.) They should definitely buy an ad.” And on and on she went. I became suspicious. They had to be in cahoots! It really was a brilliant routine. The owner never spoke but looked a bit faint, as he wrote out the check. Woodrow Wilson High School can thank the well oiled tag team for that $100. 

After the excitement died down, it became quiet again. As my toes dried, I relaxed and listened to my Ipod. I could almost nap. As the technician finished and began putting my flip flops back on, I opened my eyes to see my perfectly polished “Suzi Loves Cowboys” toes perched in bizarro, hand-painted, flowered shoes! “No, those aren’t mine – my flip flops are right there”, I pointed. “No, for you. Gift for you.”

“Huh?”

“Yes, gift.” I sat there stunned with those odd wooden oriental shoes on my feet which so did not go with my blue Dallas Mavericks Western Conference Finals t-shirt and khaki cargo capris. I looked around for John Quinones and the hidden camera. 

Was I the 5,000th customer? This was the most peculiar thing. I tried to stand, but it was difficult on hard, 2-inch high, wooden flip flops – similar to those 1970s Dr. Scholls sandals I could never quite maneuver. Not only were they uncomfortable and NOT my style, they were huge on my feet. I clopped to the door like a freakin’ Clydesdale horse – CLOP CLOP CLOP. They watched me wobble to my car in those things – they stood at the window and smiled like they were so proud. Will they expect me to wear these next time? I really must find another salon or move back to Arkansas asap! I wonder if Woodrow Wilson needs a donation for the silent auction? 

talya

Musical Pairings:

Simon and Garfunkel, “Bridge Over Troubled Water”
Steve Karmen, “Here Comes the King” (Budweiser Clydesdale Horse jingle)



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Hi! I'm Talya Tate Boerner. Writer, Reader, Arkansas Master Naturalist / Master Gardener, Author of

THE ACCIDENTAL SALVATION OF GRACIE LEE (2016)

GENE, EVERYWHERE: a life-changing visit from my father-in-law (2020)

BERNICE RUNS AWAY (2022)

THE THIRD ACT OF THEO GRUENE (coming 2025)

Recent Ramblings:

  • Sunday Letter: 11.23.25
  • Maggie and Miss Ladybug: My New Children’s Nature Book
  • Sunday Letter: November 9, 2025
  • Sunday Letter: Oct 26, 2025
  • Sunday Letter: Oct 5, 2025

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