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#Metoo doesn’t only happen in Politics and Hollywood

I’ve thought about writing this since the hashtag started trending. I’ve watched all the stories come out. I’ve watched all the powerful men fall. And I’ve wondered, what about the women in the small jobs, the working mothers, where are their stories. I’ve waited and I’ve watched. No one is telling their stories. I couldn’t help but wonder why. And after wrestling with the thought of telling my story, I knew I had to tell it. I knew that I had to give voice to all the women like me. The ones not in Hollywood or DC, the ones that put up with sexual harassment and rape just to feed our children. So here’s my #metoo .

The year was roughly 1992, I was married to a guy who just got out of the army and had taken a job in North Georgia as a prison guard. We lived in a beautiful little town, Cornelia in a rundown house. Our marriage started out great.  While we were dating he was kind, thoughtful, all the things that you look for in a mate. And then slowly after we got married, things changed. He was verbally abusive to me and I knew that he was cheating. But I wasn’t working so my options were limited. I was in a town where I knew no one, had no friends, had no one to run to, I was stuck until I figured something out. So I started trying to figure something out.

It was summertime, so I took my daughter to Cherokee, NC for a day trip. On the way back we stopped at a cute little amusement park in Franklin, NC. It was halfway up a mountain and the view was amazing. The park was in two parts. The lower part, you panned for gold and gemstones. You could tour the mines halfway up the mountain and then on top of the mountain there was an old west town. It was complete with a saloon with can-can girls, a gunfight in the street, old-time shops, an ice cream parlor and everything you would expect to find in a fake 1800’s town.

We panned for gemstones and of course, we found some. That’s when I met the owners, Alan and MaryLou. It was their job to convince us that the stones we found could be cut into beautiful gems and put into jewelry. At the time, I had no idea how it all worked and was amazed. Now, I know it’s all a scam but my daughter’s eyes were glistening at the thought of a rock she found becoming a gem and in a ring. So I broke down and spent some money to have her rock “cut” and put in a ring. She found a garnet and we put it in a heart-shaped setting. It would be ready in a week and they would mail it to me. Or since I was so close, I could come back and pick it up. We decided to come back and pick it up.

Alan and MaryLou had spent a lot of time talking with me that day, getting to know my daughter. I was getting to know them and learn about their business. They didn’t have any kids, no family in the area. They had started their panning operation in Dawsonville, GA and when Great American Mining Adventure (GAMA) came up for sale, they bought it with a partner who had an operation down the hill. He acted like a silent partner most days. They hadn’t owned GAMA long and still had a long way to go to get everything up and running. For example, there was a sky lift that went from the bottom of the park to the top that was not operational yet. As well as a couple of shops and a restaurant. Alan mentioned several times that they were looking for someone to hire on as a operations manager to get all that started and running. I mentioned that I had a degree in business administration and could probably brush up on the laws in NC and be able to do the job. At this point. we were just kinda joking about the whole thing. But there was really good chemistry between the three of us, so it wasn’t something that I put out of my mind. In fact, after we left, I thought about it the whole drive home. The drive was only an hour, which was no different than what I would have to drive if I were living in Atlanta. And there weren’t any good jobs for me around Cornelia. Sure I could work at the local Piggly Wiggly or Family Dollar but that wouldn’t be enough to support my daughter and myself.

My marriage was going south and I knew that I needed a game plan. On the return trip to pick up the ring, I talked to Alan and MaryLou about the job. We really talked about it. After hashing out the details, I became the new operations manager for GAMA. I would soon find out that, I was really the “everything girl”. The job had it’s perks, during the summer, my daughter could come with me. So I didn’t need to hire a sitter. And the pay was good enough that if/when my marriage fell apart, I would be okay. In fact, MaryLou had mentioned that in addition to their house on the property, there was a second house that was fully furnished. It was available to me in case the weather was ever bad and I got snowed in or if I just needed a place to stay.

So now you know the backstory of how I came to be at GAMA. Things were going fine for a couple of months. My marriage was holding on, we moved to a different town, my daughter started school. On nights, when I wouldn’t be home within an hour of her getting off the bus or my husband wouldn’t be home within an hour, she would ride the bus to the babysitter’s house.

And then things started falling apart at home. Rick was back to cheating. I didn’t know who it was with but I knew he was cheating. Every night when he came home before he even spoke to me, he had to take a shower. And he was late every night. It was always because there was a problem at the prison. We were fighting constantly. He was becoming more verbally abusive and starting to get physically abusive as well.

I went to work one day with bruises on my neck that I couldn’t cover. Alan took me into one of the empty stores where we were storing things to “look for something”. He cornered me and asked me what was going on. I broke down into tears and told him. He started “comforting” me. At first, he put his arm around me and was hugging me. Then he tried to kiss me and I pushed him away. And then I saw a side of Alan that I had never seen before. He grabbed me in the same spot where I had the bruises and forced me to kiss him. I bit his tongue when he shoved it in my mouth. He squeezed my neck harder.

He pulled back and I will never forget what he said “You stupid little bitch, don’t you get it? With your husband beating the fuck out of you, I can do anything I want to you as long my bruises match his bruises. And you know what, no one would believe you. Your husband is a prison guard and I’m a married business owner. I own you now.”

He drug me into the office part of the storefront, ordered me to take off my clothes and raped me. While he was raping me, MaryLou was calling him on the handheld radio and he paused long enough to answer her. He told her that he was making some business arrangements and he’d be done soon. When he finished, instead of ejaculating inside of me, he pulled out and ejaculated on the floor. He told me to clean myself up and clean up the floor. The last thing he said before he left the storefront was “Don’t let my wife catch you smelling like the cheap whore you are, that would be bad for you. And don’t think about telling her or quitting. She wouldn’t believe you if you told her, she hasn’t believed any of the others. And if you quit, I’ll tell your husband that I fired you because you were coming on to me.”

He left and I went into the bathroom and cried. Then scrubbed myself, trying to get his funk off of me. Then I cleaned up his mess on the floor. Then I went back to the bathroom and puked. When I made it back to the main store, MaryLou looked at me with concern and said: “Oh honey, Alan told me you weren’t feeling well and wanted to go home early, are you okay?” I told her that I probably just had something that didn’t agree with me. She told me to either go up to the house or go home if I thought I could make the hour drive. Since I didn’t want to be there, I gathered my things and left.

When I got home there was a message on the answering machine from Alan, reminding me of our big meeting the next day and how I had better not miss it. We didn’t have a big meeting. It was his way of threatening me. For the next eight months, several times a week, Alan would rape me in one of the storefronts. And if Rick had left bruises on me, then Alan made the bruises worse. During this time, I started taking all my paychecks and putting them in a separate bank account.

I came home one day, after being raped by Alan, and my husband who was supposed to be at work was home. I walked in the back door as quiet as could be. The stereo was on. I looked around the downstairs, he wasn’t there. I crept upstairs. I looked in my daughter’s room, she wasn’t in there and neither was he. I looked in the bathroom, he wasn’t in there. That left the master bedroom. The door was open and I could hear a noise. I carefully looked in. There was my babysitter, the sister of his best friend, bare-ass naked, on top of my bare-ass naked husband. I cleared my throat and said: When you are finished, you can both get the fuck out of this house. And don’t even think about starting anything because she’s 16 and what you are doing is illegal.

I went back downstairs to wait for my daughter to get home so I could keep her from going upstairs. Apparently, I ruined the mood for the sex-crazed couple because Miss Thang came running down the stairs dressed and out the front door. Rick took a few minutes longer. My daughter came home as he came down the stairs. I told her to go up to her room and close the door. Rick and I got into a huge fight, he slapped me, knocked me to the ground, sat on top of me and pulled his service pistol out. I screamed for my daughter to call the police. When she came out of her room, Rick turned and pointed the gun at her. In that moment, somehow, I found the strength to get him off me and take the gun away from him. I held the gun on him until the cops showed up. Neither one of us was taken into custody but he was removed from the home.

We divorced after that and I never went back to GAMA. I took all the money that I saved and rented an apartment in Gainesville, GA and got a job working for the local cable company. I never looked back.

#MeToo #NotJustHollywood

The walk of shame

He was my brother. I had been away from him for a while, I had no reason not to trust him. He was married now, he had a child of his own. I had no reason to believe he was still a monster. That’s why I got in that car with him.  There was no reason I should have been his victim. But I was and there was nothing I could do about it. I said no. I fought back. But he was too much like his mother. If you didn’t do what he wanted you got a punch or a slap until you did do what he wanted. And on this day, he wanted sex. He wanted a blowjob and he wanted vaginal intercourse. And by the time he was done, my throat was raw and my panties were a torn mess lying in the woods where he had pulled off the road. All of my screaming and tears did nothing, they brought no help, they didn’t elicit sympathy from him. In fact, I think my screams excited him more.

When it was over, I curled up in the front seat, still sobbing and he took me home. As I got out of his car, he said “Tell Mom we will be over about 6 for dinner. And thanks for a good time.” I said “Fuck you” He laughed and said, “Maybe another time, I’m beat”. I wanted to kill him in that moment.

I went into the house and showered.  Standing in the shower I started to panic, he didn’t use a condom and I wasn’t on birth control. What the hell was I going to do if I got pregnant? Well, there was no question about it, I would get an abortion.  I started doing the math in my head. It had been about 2 weeks since my period. Didn’t they teach us that our cycles were about 28 days and that at about 14 days in we could get pregnant? Why the hell did I have two fucking mothers and neither of them would let me get birth control pills. One told me only whores needed birth control and her son had just raped me. And the other wouldn’t even have the conversation with me. She said, “Catholic girls don’t need birth control!” Maybe for one in my short miserable life whatever fate, gods, luck or karma would smile on me and the worst wouldn’t happen.

When a month passed and my period didn’t happen, I went to a clinic and took a test. Sure as shit, I was pregnant. I looked at the woman and said: “What does it take to get an abortion?” She asked my age, I lied “I’m 18” I was 16. She said we need proof of your age and $1500 and it has to be done in the first 3 months. I was screwed. I needed a fake ID and more money than I made in a month working at Albertsons.

This was back in 1979 and there was no internet to research how to induce a miscarriage, there was no way to find groups to help with paying for an abortion and there was no such thing as Plan B. I called up my brother and told him I was pregnant and needed an abortion. I told him I needed a fake ID and $1500. He laughed and said it wasn’t his problem. I screamed at him, told him that he was the only one that had sex with me, that it was his spawn. He kept laughing and said, “Nope wasn’t his, mom said I was nothing but a little whore and this proved she was right.” I wanted to kill him, again.

I went to the only person I could think of to go to, a woman I worked with, Michelle. She was older and constantly talking about women’s rights and such. I thought that if anyone knew what to do it was her. She was indeed my savior. I caught her as she was getting off work and poured my heart out to her. I told her everything. I told her about my mother, I told her my brother raped me and it wasn’t the first time and I told I was pregnant with his child. The first thing she said was “GIrl, we have to get you out of that house and away from those people.” I moved in with her that night. I told Mother that I was just going to her house to stay a couple of days but I never spent another night at Mother’s house again. I was sneaking in when Mother wasn’t home and getting my things.

Michelle introduced me to several other women who thought like she did and told them what was going on with me. Quickly the ball started rolling. The first thing they did was give me some kind of drugs to drink to see if that would encourage and miscarriage. It didn’t. I was still pregnant.  Knowing that I was only 16, I either had to have a fake ID or someone had to pretend to be my mother. Either way, it could be jail time if we were caught. I didn’t want to risk anyone else so I opted for the fake ID. The women started raising funds for me, I was still working and every penny was going to the abortion fund. Finally, I had enough money and a fake ID.  And an appointment.

Michelle drove me to the clinic and as we parked I was instantly terrified. We had to park across the street and the sidewalk was lined with people, mostly men with signs protesting abortion. I would have to walk by them to get to the clinic. But I had to do it because if I didn’t get the abortion, I would kill myself. There was no way I was going to give birth to that thing that was growing inside me. There was a group of people in the parking lot that we parked in that Michelle said were clinic escorts and that they would walk us to the clinic and protect us from the protestors. While I saw the signs and the people, nothing prepared me for the walk that I was about to take. To this day, I’m not sure which was worse, the walk or being pregnant.

Michelle and I sat in the car for a moment watching the protestors. They were watching us too. My heart was racing. I read their signs, “Baby Killer” “Don’t kill your child” “Jesus said children shall inherit the earth, don’t kill yours”.  As I sat there reading those signs and looking at those people, all I could see is the hate that my mother spread every time she spoke to me. These people knew nothing about anyone who was coming to this clinic, yet they here they judging them all. They had no idea if the woman they were calling a baby killer was a rape victim, or if the baby was already dead. And the worst part was, they didn’t care. Before getting out and making my own walk, another young woman flanked by escorts crossed the street and started walking to the clinic.

The protesters started circling around her like sharks homing in on their next meal. Even with the windows rolled up in the car I could hear them shouting at her. “Let us help you!” “Don’t kill your baby!” She kept her head down and kept walking, the escorts formed a barrier between her and the sharks. The more the sharks yelled the closer the escorts got to the young woman. She was clearly unsettled if you looked closely you could see tears fall from her face. My heart broke for her but at the same time, I was horrified that I was going to have to make that same walk.

Even though the perfect time to make my way to the clinic would have been while the Pro Life protesters were busy with the first girl, I was so intimidated watching it unfold that I couldn’t move. Then there was a tap on the window. “Honey, are you okay?”

I rolled down the window. “Yes ma’am, just trying to catch my breath and my nerve so I can walk up there. But I guess I’m just wasting time sitting here and those creeps aren’t going away.” So I rolled up the window, grabbed my purse, opened the door and got out.

The escort introduced herself as Jackie and motioned for a couple of other escorts to come over. The other women introduced themselves as well. Michelle and I introduced ourselves and told them I was the patient. They asked me if I wanted ear plugs so I couldn’t hear them. While it was tempting, I declined. I had survived far worse, I could survive this walk. After all, they were just a bunch of do gooders shouting. And we all learned in kindergarten that sticks and stones break our bones but words don’t hurt. Although, anyone has been verbally abused knows better than that shit. Words hurt just as much if not more than having your ass kicked.

Surrounded by escorts and Michelle holding my hand, we made our way across the street. Instantly, we were surrounded by all 10 of the Pro Life protesters and their signs. Michelle linked her arm in mine and an escort linked her arm in my other one, I also had an escort in front of me and one behind me. I was protected, physically. I kept my head down but I could still hear them. One woman who looked a lot like my mother was almost in my face and while she wasn’t loud, her words were meant to sting.

“Honey, don’t kill your baby. You know that baby was made in love. If you don’t want it, give it up for adoption. We can help you find a loving home for it. Death is not the answer for that sweet innocent life, keep it or adopt it out. But please don’t kill it. Does the father know you want to kill his precious baby? Did you tell him you were pregnant, does he know that you made a child with your love?” The more she talked the angrier I got, I couldn’t hear anyone else but her and she kept droning on and on about love and adoption and innocence. And then I lost it.

I stopped and lifted my head and looked her dead in the eyes. I didn’t scream or raise my voice. “What do you know about me? NOTHING. This baby wasn’t made in love. My fucking brother raped me. And do you know why I wasn’t on birth control? Because the fucking bitch that adopted ME said only whores needed birth control. So now what is your answer? Let me guess, you want me to carry this baby and be reminded every day for the rest of my life that there is a person on this earth that was the product of incest and rape. Your plan is to punish me for the rest of my life and to punish a child. That’s a great plan, but FUCK YOU, it’s not happening. While you may think that adoption is the answer, how many kids are sitting in foster care waiting for homes? And how sure are you that all kids that are adopted are in perfect little homes? I’m here to tell you that being adopted for me was hell. So unless you have real answers, get the fuck out of my way. I prayed to your God every day of my life to get me out of hell and he did nothing, so fuck your God and fuck you.”

When I started walking again, the protesters didn’t follow. They were stunned into silence. Not even the escorts said anything as we walked into the clinic. The escorts hugged me and wished me luck. One of them whispered in my ear that she was proud of me.  I made my way to the check in counter, signed in, gave her my ID and she didn’t even question it. I sat down and waited my turn.

It wasn’t a long wait until I was called back. A quick counseling session to make sure I wanted to have the abortion, another look at my fake ID, I paid my money and the difference between ending my life or ending the life of a fetus that should have never been created took place. There was no crying while the doctor did what he had to do, there was only a sense of relief and resolve. Some people make resolutions on New Year’s Eve, I made a resolution that day that I never broke, I swore that day that I would never live in the same house as my abusive mother again and I would never give my brother the chance to rape me. Thirty years later, I do not regret my abortion and I never broke my resolutions.

For the love of a white cat….MimmyJoe

24 years ago I was blessed with having a white Persian tiptoe into my life and change it forever. She taught me to be kind, loving and calm. She taught me to watch outside for animals that needed food and love. And now our rescue is in her name. She is the reason why we rescue those that others throw away. She left us 3 years ago today to go to the Rainbow Bridge to be with her mate JohnJohn and their kittens Baby and Sweetye. I miss that family but I miss the wise MimmyJoe.

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Three years ago today we lost a beautiful dirty faced Princess with a heart of gold. The Rainbow Bridge gained an Angel.

Day 17 – A quote you live by

If you’ve read my second book then you know this quote.

God gave us memory so that we might have roses in December. James M Barrie

My 9th grade English teacher Mr. Taylor would write different quotes on the blackboard each day and we had to write a paragraph about what they meant to us. This is the only quote that I ever remembered.  Now that I’m older it sticks with me because genetically there is Alzheimer’s disease in my biological family and I’ve watched people with that disease lose their short term memory but retain their long-term memory.  So maybe those memories are really their roses.

Day 9 — Your feelings on ageism

This is honestly a subject I have no real feelings on. I know it exists, I know why it exists. But until parenting methods change, until people stop being so selfish, until we learn to start loving strangers and helping strangers, it’s not going to change.

Ageism will exist until we learn to talk to each other with respect. Respect isn’t taught anymore. It’s not earned anymore, it’s rarely given anymore. My generation has no respect for the generation it raised because we totally screwed it up. The generation we raised has no respect for our generation or the older one because we didn’t teach them to respect themselves.

Can it be stopped? Sure, but it’s going to take a lot more than a blog entry. And honestly, there are bigger problems facing our world right now.

Locker Room Banter? Nope, sexual assault. Presidential Pedophile Trump


Trump: Yeah, that’s her. With the gold. I better use some Tic Tacs just in case I start kissing her. You know, I’m automatically attracted to beautiful — I just start kissing them. It’s like a magnet. Just kiss. I don’t even wait. And when you’re a star, they let you do it. You can do anything.

These comments were directed towards Arianne Zucker.  Who Trump was going to be co-starring with on Days of Our Lives, a long running soap opera on NBC. One I’ve watched since I was a small child.

Trump: . And when you’re a star, they let you do it. You can do anything.

Bush: Whatever you want.

Trump: Grab ’em by the pussy. You can do anything.

Bush: Uh, yeah, those legs, all I can see is the legs.

Trump: Oh, it looks good.

Bush: Come on shorty.

Trump: Ooh, nice legs, huh?

Bush: Oof, get out of the way, honey. Oh, that’s good legs. Go ahead.

Yes, Arianne Zucker is beautiful, yes, she has very nice legs, but does she deserve to be talked about like she’s a piece of meat? And the first part of the conversation on the bus, the married woman that Trump was making the moves on Nancy O’Dell.

This is a man that is running for the highest political office in America. Is this a man we want in charge of laws affecting our children? Not just our daughters, but our sons too. What he is talking about in that conversation is the very definition of sexual assault. It is against the law. PERIOD. It’s not something that an apology can cover up. But we are living in a country where you can rape a woman behind a dumpster and only get six months in jail but only have to serve three months. We are clearly living in a country where if old white men have their way, women and girls will NOT matter. And it’s been this way for a very long time.

How do I know this, because I am a fifty-three year old woman who was groped by an old man when I was 11. My mother told me to be nice to him and let him, he gave her money. He also gave me money. I didn’t know it was wrong. I was a child. I was repulsed by it but compared to the other things that had happened in my life, this old man groping me and giving me money was the least of my worries. And I knew that if I didn’t let it happen, my mother would beat the hell out of me. Sex didn’t happen, but the old man did grope my boobs and my pussy. This was over forty years ago. Nothing has changed. Men are still doing it.

And what about the sexual assault case that is pending against Donald Trump and Jeffrey Epstein?  Raping and threatening a 13 year old child? Really? Epstein has already spent time in jail for sex with a minor. He’s known as the “Billionaire Pedophile” and he’s a friend of Trumps.

Is this really a man that we want running a country….ANY COUNTRY? Hell this isn’t even a man I would want running a business. He talks about how Hillary belongs in jail, he belongs UNDER the jail. He is a vile human being.

He believes that woman who have legal abortions should be punished, he believes that people who have been cleared of crimes by DNA are guilty and he loves to deny what he says moments after he says it.

Wake up and smell the coffee. This is one coke addict we don’t need.

Living with depression

There are so many misconceptions about being bipolar, clinical, seasonal, situational and emotional depression. The causes of depression may all be different by the symptoms are similar. And there is no easy fix. I hear “Go to the doctor” all the time, the doctor isn’t a magic cure.  There is no magic pill that instantly makes it better. Let me repeat that. THERE IS NO MAGIC PILL THAT MAKES IT INSTANTLY MAKES IT BETTER.  Yes, the doctor can write out a script for pills but they take a while to get into your system and that’s after you decide to go to the doctor. In reality we are talking about dealing with depression for at least 6 weeks before someone starts to feel better with medical help.  What are you supposed to do in those six weeks?

As a person who is dealing with depression right now at this very moment I can tell you it’s hell. I wake up every morning exhausted and the first thing I want to do is cry. Why do I want to cry? Here’s a list:

  • I woke up
  • The sun is shining
  • I’m alone
  • There are people in the house
  • There are cats in the house
  • Pumpkin is not on my bed
  • Pumpkin is on my bed
  • The tv is on
  • The tv is not on or its on the wrong channel.
  • It’s cloudy
  • The phone is ringing
  • I slept too late
  • I woke up too early

As you can see, NONE of these reasons make sense. No sense at all. But they are reasons that make me cry every morning. So what do I do about it? First you should know that I’ve very anti drug for my bipolar. I have so many health problems that I take pills for that I don’t want to take any more pills. So over 30 years I have tried to manage this illness on my own. Is that the smartest thing? No, I’ve ended up in the hospital a couple of times.

I know the signs of depression. The first thing to go when I’m getting depressed is my creativity. I don’t want to take pictures, I don’t want to draw, to write, to build, to sew, to cook or to do anything. I don’t want to shower. I don’t want to eat. But I have certain responsibilities that I have to attend to and they become chores, some of them are no longer done out of love, it’s simply done because I have to do them. Like cooking. I have to cook for the kids. If I don’t cook for them they get frozen pizzas or tv dinners. Of course, I won’t lie, sometimes when I do cook for them they get those same things. But if I don’t cook for them they don’t get veggies. I will say that even though it’s a chore to take care of the cats, It’s still done with love. LOTS OF LOVE. Because I know beyond the shadow of a doubt that they love me back. I know that they appreciate the food that I give them and the care that I take with them. So if I had to pick something that got me out of bed every day it would be taking care of the cats. I’m a crazy cat lady because they are the reason I get out of bed in the morning and the reason I haven’t killed myself.

So what’s the point of this blog post? If you know someone in your life that has depression, if they are just “social media” friends and you look up one day and you haven’t heard from them in a couple of weeks, reach out. Find out why. They are probably suffering in silence. If you look at your social media friends profile and see nothing, there’s a problem. You can’t fix it, but you can offer a shoulder, an ear, do something to cheer them up. Let them know that someone is thinking about them. Send them a card in the mail, Send them a message on facebook, send them an email, pick up the phone and listen to them. Don’t let them suffer in silence because honestly it may get to a point where all you ever get from them again is silence.

No matter what form of depression a person has there is no quick fix. But if you love them or care for them, you can help them by being a lifeline. Throw it to them, don’t expect someone else to do it, don’t wait for someone else to do it.

Who would make sure he was fed if I wasn't here.
Who would make sure he was fed if I wasn’t here.

#AT&T Drama part 1001?

I have reached out to EVERY AT&T person I can find. Last night on Facebook it was a joke. A pure joke. I will post the screen grabs but here’s the deal. Someone else posted on my thread. They were talking about about it took them several hours and several calls to be able to cancel. This I can understand because you say “cancel” and they transfer you to a department who’s job it is to save your business. Back in the day we called it “Saves” I’m sure by now they have given it some fancy name like “The department of client retention” or some such nonsense. It’s where all really angry customers go when they want to “Ditch the T”. But I digress.  So you have two angry people on one thread. One is a customer who just cancelled and one is a current customer. You can’t do anything to save the customer who cancelled. So that’s the one you help first right? The one who didn’t start the thread, the one that was wish the upset customer luck, right? I’m that makes sense right? That’s what the reps at AT&T did. They totally ignored my complained and zeroed in on the other person. They were falling all over themselves to help her.

Only when I mentioned how they mattered because they cancelled and were lost money and I didn’t matter because I was still money in the bank monthly did they even acknowledge that I was on the thread and offer to help me. And then when I did message them the issue and the ticket number I was informed that it could take 96 business hours before it could be resolved. Yes, your read that right NINETY SIX BUSINESS HOURS. That’s OVER two weeks. To fix an email issue.

And the real kicker? I FINALLY got a decent tech on the phone today. Not one of these young kids who has no clue how to dig into a problem but a REAL tech. He looked at ALL of our account, and realized that we have been paying for BROKEN service. He ran line tests, looked at historical data and scheduled a tech.  But while working with him. Do you know what we found out? That someone at AT&T suspended the missing email address and never bothered letting anyone know. And even though the email address is back on our account, I don’t have access to it on because it’s still suspended.


This is not an accident or a glitch in the system. Someone did this on purposed. And it's freaking childish.
This is not an accident or a glitch in the system. Someone did this on purposed. And it’s freaking childish.


Oh dear, I forgot the screen grabs! LOL



May 2012, Uverse came out our neighborhood. Digital everything. AT&T was the first one to offer it in our rural area. I JUMPED on the bandwagon dancing because I had lived in big cities I knew the joy of digital everything. The install of UVerse is where my joy ended.

The install itself was a total nightmare. The tech ripped me off $50 because he refused to do his job right. (Oh yes, he got fired, a police report was filed.) It took them TWO MONTHS to get it installed in our home. And then a thunderstorm hit. lightning hit the NON GROUNDED AT&T box, the electrical charge ran into the house. It fried 3 televisions, 2 computers and 2 XBox 360’s. After fighting with them on that I ended up with a check for $2000 to replace my electronics and 9 months free service.

Fast forward to sticker shock after the free service ran out. To keep everything we were used to having, with 5 boxes, we were looking at over $300 a month for TV, slower than promised internet and telephone. So I did what any sane person would do, I shopped around. I found out that Comcast was now in the area offering a much cheaper deal. I called AT&T and told them that I was not going to pay them $300+ a month and I was changing to Comcast. To which they said “Well, hold on Lori, let’s see how we can help you.” So they magically got my bill down to $200. The same amount that it would be if I went to Comcast.  (This was sometime in 2013, now we play the “I’m going to cancel” game and they magically lower the bill to $200.

Fast forward to this year. Sometime around April 10, I get a call “Hi Lori, this is xxx from AT&T and we just want to know how your service is working.?” My response was that it was working fine. I had come to accept crappy service and slow internet speeds. I did mention the slow internet speeds and she of course offered the faster speed and then realized that I couldn’t have the faster speed because I lived too far away. And then of course, I did my yearly complain about the bill. And there was nothing they could do. So I said “Well that’s okay, Comcast can give me a better deal. And I’m really tired of paying for all the new customers price breaks.” Oh that got the ball rolling and suddenly I could get a better price!

And then to pay for my asking for a better price, my service really started to stink. I mean it really started to stink. Packet loss on ALL services, phone, internet and television. The time and date was wrong on the DVR, it was refusing to record, pause, or anything else. And my service was going down DAILY. So I hit chat. Big mistake.  They didn’t understand the problems at all. And no matter how many times I had told them that I had done the level 1 troubleshooting, I had to do it again. This nightmare took over a month to fix.  Three techs came out to the house and one manager. The gateway was replaced twice. The dvr replaced once. At one point in time a tech decided that even though all tests were showing that the line was having problems BEFORE it came into our house, the problem was with my wiring and my equipment. You know, my patch panel and all my internal house wiring.  End result, the problem was in the local hub, they had to switch pairs.

And then yesterday we discovered an email address is missing from our account.  Of course, I discovered this because I did all the level 1 troubleshooting. I tried to log into the account, no go. I hit forgot password, logged into our AT&T account and the subaccount was GONE. So I hit chat. What the hell was I thinking.  Here is THAT conversation::

AT&T : Hello! How may I help you today?

AT&T : Thank you for contacting AT&T, my name is Everett. How can I help you today?

Me : Hi there, I’ve just noticed that one of my subaccounts is missing. I can’t add it back. I need it back. I don’t know how long it’s been gone. But that explains why I’ve been missing email.

AT&T : You have reached the right team. I can help you with that.

Me : Account: xxxxxxxxx xxxx is the security code

Me : The email that is missing is

AT&T : Please allow me a couple of minutes.

********THIS WAIT WAS FIVE MINUTES************

AT&T : Your account has been authenticated. Thank you.

AT&T : I would like to confirm the cell number we have on your account. Will you please provide me with a contact number so that we may reach you via phone or text with information about your AT&T services?

Me : 678-755-xxxx

AT&T : Thank you
********THIS WAIT WAS FIVE MINUTES************
Me : So are you fixing the issue?

AT&T : I am working on it.

AT&T : Thank you for your patience.

AT&T : I would like to inform you that the email ID “” is not registered with Uverse account.

Me : *sigh* scroll up please and read what I typed at the very beginning of our conversation.

Me : Me: Hi there, I’ve just noticed that one of my subaccounts is missing. I can’t add it back. I need it back. I don’t know how long it’s been gone. But that explains why I’ve been missing email.

AT&T : I would like to inform you that I am from Uverse Technical Support. I can assist you with Uverse services.

Me : When we first got Uverse it was registered to our account. And it was forwarded to my wife’s gmail account. However, I’m guessing when there was a problem a while back with outlook and AT&T that it was removed and not returned. My wife spoke with someone in the US Uverse technical support and they worked on the problem for HOURS before the issue was fixed. And she was able to use outlook to check her bellsouth email

Me : During that time the tech deleted and readded both my alternate email ( and her alternate email ( however now, for some reason. MINE is missing.

Me : We noticed this because my health care information comes to and we were waiting on paperwork today. It never showed up.

Me : SO I attempted to log into webmail and it wouldn’t let me

AT&T : I would let you connect to the dedicated team.

Me : So I logged into my AT&T account and the sub account is MISSING.

AT&T : My Manager will call you and connect you to the concern team.

Me : But thank you for taking 10 minutes to tell me what I knew.

AT&T : The concern team will assist you and resolve your issue.

AT&T : I apologize, I was searching the details.

Me : They will speak to my wife since the cell phone number you have is hers and she is the technical one

AT&T : I am so sorry for the delay.

AT&T : I was trying to assist you.

AT&T : Is 678-755-xxxx the best number to call you back?

Me : yes

AT&T : I have arranged a call back for you.

Me : as I said, you will be speaking with my wife Lori, she is the technical one

AT&T : My Manager will call you with 10-15 mins and connect you to the dedicated team

Me : thank you.

AT&T : Alright

AT&T : You are welcome

AT&T : Once again, I am sorry for the delay

AT&T : I appreciate your cooperation and patience.

And then he closed the chat on me. The phone rang once, it was AT&T, they hung up. It rang again and they hung up again. So I called them. Again, HUGE mistake.  The first 10 minutes of the call was taken up with level 1 troubleshooting. Then he got someone else involved and we did level 1 troubleshooting again. 25 minutes into the call I was told that the email account was deleted because it was a free account and it wasn’t being used. That’s when I lost it. That’s when the yelling and screaming started. That’s when I told him that it was NOT a free account, we got it when we got DSL with AT&T and it was switched over the UVerse account along with my account. And it was being used because the last email I got was 4/10/2015. I demanded to speak to a manager. He told me that he would transfer me to a manager and after leaving me on silent hold where he could hear everything I was saying and I could not hear anything  he was saying. I told my hubby EVERYTHING that was going on and let my hubby know exactly what I thought of AT&T’s crappy technical support and how they lie to their customers if they can’t figure out the problem. Finally he put me on the phone with a “manager”.

The “manager” listened to me tell him what the problem was and he explained that he didn’t have the tools to fix the problem. So he messaged someone else to help. After nearly an hour on the phone, the guy in chat couldn’t figure out why I couldn’t add it back and why he couldn’t add it back. So they opened a ticket.

But at no point should a paying customer have to SCREAM at an employee to actually get help.

AT&T has the WORST customer service EVER. They have the worst SERVICES ever, the worst internet speed, the worst television package. Bottom line if you can avoid AT&T RUN as fast as you can from them. Old customers pay for new customers price breaks and NEVER get offered anything for loyalty. We have been customers of AT&T for phone then DSL & phone and then Uverse in this location for 14 years and are rewarded with crap service and crap products at an extremely insane price.