Me: Good morning, could I get a propane delivery?
Lady at Suburban Propane company: We just delivered to you two weeks ago.
Me: Yes, well. Thanks. But I need another delivery.
Lady at Suburban Propane: It's August.
Me: I know. I use propane to fire my kiln, not to heat my house.
Lady at Suburban Propane: What does the gauge read?
Me: The gauge doesn't work.
Lady at Suburban Propane: Have you been using the kiln alot?
Me: I only need to use it three times, and if it runs out in the middle of a firing, all the propane that's gone towards that firing is wasted. So I prefer not to run out.
Lady, dubiously: Alllll-right, I'll let the driver know....
What's worse, I guarantee I will have to call at least once more, and probably twice, because the driver will look at the order and say, "Nah, she's nuts. I just delivered there." It's almost like Suburban doesn't want me as a customer, because I use too much propane, necessitating a lot of pesky deliveries and stuff.
If it didn't cost hundreds of dollars to install tanks I would have switched companies months ago. As it is I am considering becoming cranky. So far I have been relentlessly pleasant and polite, but maybe the problem is pleasant, polite conversations are less memorable than cranky ones.
I'm not that good at cranky, though, and it ruins my day as well as perhaps the person on the other end, who has lots of customers to remember, not just me. Still, I am losing patience. They presumably utilize a computer to store information; there must be some way to make a note on my file that if I call for propane, it's because I need it.