For reasons that are still somewhat mysterious even to myself, I've decided to go home on the train tonight rather than riding back with Amanda in the morning. It's January. Do you know what these two facts mean when they are combined? Today, I got to buy a new ISIC (International Student Identification Card). I know, please tell me the excitement ends there--this is almost too much to take.
Being the diligent young woman that I am, I dutifully printed off a recent photo of myself and got up early to make these arrangements. Here is how my conversation with the Travelcuts destination officer went:
ERIN walks up to the counter where the BITCH is doing something on the computer and talking to a coworker about how a costume party someone is attending as the tin-man.
Erin [polite as always] : Hi, I'd just like to buy a train ticket for the 720 tonight to Aldershot. And I need to renew my ISIC as well. [Puts relevant information and that lovely photo on the counter.]
Bitch: That looks awesome...No don't worry about that. Oh, hi.
Erin [still trying to be nice]: As above.
Bitch: Oh, you need an ISIC?
Erin: Yup.
Bitch: Okay...Oh wait I can't use this.
Erin: Can't use what?
Bitch: This picture. It has to be printed on photo paper.
Erin: Why's that?
Bitch: Because that's the rule.
Erin: Okay, but what difference does it actually make? It's a recent picture. It's better than the one I've been using for the last year. I don't understand the problem.
Bitch: I can't use this one. You need to print it on photo paper.
Erin: Okay, but I can't and I need to buy this ticket. What am I supposed to do?
Bitch: Come back with another picture or let us take one of you.
Erin: There is no way I'm paying you 6 bucks for a picture when I just gave you one that would work fine.
Bitch: If I make an exception for you, then I have to make it for everyone else.
Erin: I don't think anyone will even notice. This place isn't exactly crawling with people who think it would be great to make you put a normal picture of them on their ISIC.
Bitch: Well, I can't do it. Don't you have any regular pictures? A picture of you and your friends or something?
Erin: Do I really look like someone who has friends? I think that you should just take this picture because I can't afford to pay you 6 dollars for one. If I do I can't eat today. Do you understand that? I need the ticket now. I don't have any more time to argue about this.
Bitch: There's nothing I can do. You can either let me take your picture or pay full price for the ticket [Sidebar: I save the money I spent on my ISIC the first time I use it to buy a ticket].
Erin: Well, no I can't do that. Just take the picture I guess. I hope you know this is ridiculous.
Bitch: Okay, you have to fill out the top to parts of this form and I will process that for you.
Twenty minutes later, another girl has come and left with both her ticket and a new ISIC [She didn't argue, but she came after I had started to fill out the form.] ERIN finally leaves with no ticket in hand, just a voucher for a ticket--don't get her started on the system.
Bitch: There you go. There's an extra picture for you to use next year.
Erin: Perfect, if I ever come back to this hellhole for kicks.
Bitch: Have a nice day.
Erin: I hope you die.
The END.
I know that I named myself Erin and the bitch BITCH and by this account it seems like the titles are reversed, but she was a twit at very least and most of those things were said under my breath or with a degree of irony that the bitch didn't quite get.
Tonight Rory wants to show me and Shane something super exciting. If the train makes me late I'm going to Paris. There I will become bilingual so I can get hired at VIA. I will spend the next ten years of my life slowly breaking the company down from the inside, after which I will publish a damning expose about misused funds and the real cost of a passport-size photograph that will gain me international acclaim and hopefully a Pulitzer (the first of seven I think).
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