In Transit

They made love in his cabin on the train from Boston to DC. The jostle of the cars lent assistance to his old, tired body as he tried to please her. Later, she rested her head against his shoulder; he combed her hair with his fingers while she stared out the window. "I could love this man," she thought. In the food court at Union Station, she read his recent short story, relishing in the intimacy of the moment. "Do you like it?" he yelled above the din. "What happens at the end?" she asked; it was over too abruptly.

She Was My Daughter

I was there the night he raced home to welcome his new daughter. I was there when he got divorced; we toasted with champagne. And then she was mine--on weekends and school vacations for four years. I barely recognize her now. Her MySpace profile paints a picture hard to look at. She calls herself a loser, and worse. "Rebellion" inked large in the tattoos she boasts about. But it's more than that. She is angry and unabashedly telling the world with every self-destruction. It is my fault. I should have saved her instead of trying to save myself with him.

The Things We Do

She wasn't surprised, really. Like a feeble handshake, he'd made a poor first impression. A car salesman now starring in the role of entrepreneur. She could tell from the fake intonations and extraneous praise. She hadn’t heard from him since Jack was born a year ago. She'd gone into labor early and he hired another contractor because he couldn't wait. They needed the money, though, so she didn't hesitate. "Of course, we'd be happy to help you with that, Mr. Roman," she said, trying not to smirk as he handed her his credit card. It wasn't even his real name.

Can I Have My Technology on the Side, Please?

As anyone who knows me will tell you, I like my technology in small doses. A little bit of convenience here and there doesn't hurt, but I just don't feel the need to be plugged in all the time.

Sometimes, it doesn't make sense. Case in point: on Thursday, I needed to make a change to my checking account, so I called the direct line at my bank and this is how things went...

"Hello, thank you for calling your bank. How may I help you?" asked the customer service woman.

"I need to make a change to my account, and I'm wondering, is this something I can do over the phone or should come in to the bank?"

"Do you have access to our online banking?" she asked, which was not the yes or no answer I was looking for.

"I don't know." I responded.

"Well, give me your account number and I'll find out for you."

I gave her my number, and she put me on hold while she went to access my account.

"It looks like you set up online banking in 2005," she said, some five minutes later.

"Oh, I didn't know that."

"Do you remember your User ID and Password?"

"No."

"Ok, well, if you can answer your security question, then I can give you your User ID and Password."

Security question asked and answered correctly, she gave me my online banking info and explained, in detail, how to go to the website, which buttons to click, which numbers to enter where and so forth.

"Thank you," I said as I got online and hung up the phone.

Click this button. Now this one. Enter my User ID and Password.

"We're sorry, but this is not the correct information. Please enter your User ID and Password." read the screen.

Click this button. Now this one. Enter my User ID and Password, again.

"We're sorry, but this is not the correct information. Please enter your User ID and Password."

Click this button. Now this one. Enter my User ID and Password, again.

"We're sorry, but there have been too many attempts to access your account. We have now locked you account for security reasons. For the unlock key, please enter your email address here."

Apparently, "If at first you don't succeed..." does not apply with online banking.

Click this button. Now this one. Enter email address. Press return.

"Thank you. Your unlock key will be emailed to you shortly. DO NOT CLOSE THIS BROWSER WINDOW until you receive your unlock key."

So I sat and waited. Five minutes. Ten minutes. No email. No unlock key. BROWSER WINDOW OPEN.

Elapsed time since initial phone call: 35 minutes. I closed the browser window and called the direct line at the bank.

"Hello, thank you for calling your bank. How may I help you?" asked the customer service man.

"I was trying to make a change to my account online, but I seem to have entered the wrong information and now I'm locked out. It's been 15 minutes, but I still haven't gotten an email with the unlock key."

"Sometimes it takes a while." he said.

"Is this something you can help me with?"

"No, you'd need to call our Online Banking Customer Service Department and they can walk you through the process."

"OK, well, let me go back to my very first question then. I need to make a change to my account, and I'm wondering, is this something I can do over the phone or should come in to the bank?"

He laughed. "Sure, give me you account number."

Tap tap tap, I hear in the background. Two or three questions asked and answered. Tap tap tap.

"You're all set. Is there anything else I can help you with today?"

Elapsed time since second phone call: 3 minutes.

Women, Poets, Artists