‘Member VCRs? I owned one up until 2009, which I feel is far longer than most people. I finally gave up on this antiquated technology when I first moved away from Victoria. Now, the story of how I let go of my VCR is more involved than, “I donated it. The End.” It’s more like: “I donated it, then realized that the VHS tape featuring seven-year-old me in an educational video about sexual abuse was still in there, and the tape in its case had been swapped with a vintage porno.” See this post for details.
(The photo to follow is somewhat NSFW.)
My life isn’t allowed to be simple.
Two posts ago I predicted that my bank would further complicate communication with me with a canned proposal.
I was right.
Their solution was for me to use this thing:
…to dial a relay service to get an operator who could translate the text I’d input to speech and vice versa.
The problem is: I also gave up my TTY around the same time I got rid of the VCR. I’d have owned it since I was ten, and few of the keys were no longer functional. I wasn’t about to drop $300+ to replace a dated technology that could do only one thing. Do deaf Gen Zers even know what the abbreviations GA or SK mean?
Surely, by 2020, companies would have updated their accessibility options. Nah, I get told all the time about the option to call by TTY. Sure, there’s now a video relay service that I can access via my laptop, but it does require that I have my laptop with me and a reliable internet connection. I can’t make calls while on break at work, and I typically work during office hours. Not only that but also whoever picks up the relay call often has no clue on how to handle it. People hang up half of the time, thinking it’s a telemarketer, or refuse to handle the call for security reasons, not understanding that the relay operator has the authorization to handle these calls. (See section G9 on the SRV Canada VRS website for more details.)
I’ve been dealing with these communication barriers for years: I know what works and what doesn’t. I’m fed up with having accessibility options explained to me by people who don’t need them.
On a sunnier note, I have a transitional place lined up for February 1st, which means I won’t have to scramble to find a place to sleep indoors after serving my one-month notice ending my tenancy. I’d have to live with another person, but it wouldn’t be a roommate situation as I’d be living in someone’s home: this removes the expectations I have with having an equal say in the living arrangement. The homeowner can continue to do whatever he wants, whenever he wants, with whoever: I’ll just have to wait my turn.
If this turns out to be my living situation come February, it’s going to feel surreal being back in the same neighbourhood I left eleven years ago. I’d be living within the same block of the place in which I owned a VCR and porno on VHS. Sadly, I won’t be bringing a Southwestern rug to “really [tie] the room together.” (Would Gen Zers get The Big Lebowski references?)
So, my life feels less like this now:
2 thoughts on “Lighthearted pandemonium.”
The rug might attract trouble. Someone might break in and pee on it. Then what?
I’ll hunt down the other Lebowski seeking compensation, of course!