She, who we call Rose, by any other name would…..
So, boo-hoo you get divorced. It’s hard. You cry. You get angry. You wish evil on he-who-has-hurt-you. You pay some lawyer gobs of money so that you don’t lose every “thing” you own. You get dragged through the dirt. You get blindsided, mud-swiped, ego-battered, and halfway annihilated. You re-introduce yourself to smoking. You get therapy. You gain a few pounds. You gain a few more. Then, maybe, you travel somewhere; say, South America. Or maybe you don’t. Maybe you just buy a little house in the near suburbs of a mid-sized city. You pout. You feel lonely. You look for new connections. You say goodbye to old ones who have already said goodbye to you without saying goodbye to you. You Internet date. You meet a lot of toads – some extremely warty (like, say, that professor), some not. You write a poem or two. Maybe they get published. Maybe not. You can’t keep living like this. You need money. You need something to do. You need to get out of your insular head, out of your house, out of your pajamas! Going on Facebook cures you for a short while. So do trips to museums, lectures. The occasional literary salon. A meet-up or two. Then you just want to get down to basics — you want to find someone who can give you a little prediction about things to come. Are you going to get a job? date an actual “man”? get back in shape? What the hell is your life going to look like in, say, ten years or so? You know, the life that used to look like an intact family growing old together, complete with grandchildren and the whole nine-yards – festooned holidays, weddings, the heartbreak of a variety of unanticipated problems….. That’s when you consult astrologyzone.com for a while. Then….
What was I saying?
Somehow I veered from my original message. How annoyingly typical.
What I meant to say was….. You’ve split from some man who couldn’t handle change. Now, you’ve got to convert every single account back to your maiden name. (For those ladies who were brilliant enough to retain their maiden names, you can just stop gloating now. You’ve had your share of challenges too. )
You start with the big stuff. Retirement accounts, checking accounts. Your auto registration. Maybe life insurance papers or a trust account. Your triple-A membership information. Magazine subscriptions, neighborhood directories, school directories, IRS forms, Costco membership. Your Comcast account. Your cell phone carrier. All your physician’s offices – primary care, gynecology, ophthalmology, shrinkology, mammography unit. Dentist. Every credit card you own – American Express, MasterCard, Macy’s, Talbots, Capital One Visa, etc. Your pathetic .8%-interest-earning CD. Your gym membership. All your close professional contacts. Approximately thirty-seven of them. All your distant professional contacts. Let’s not go there. Your five piddily stock accounts, averaging about $25 dollars each. Your magazine subscriptions, professional journals, professional licensing boards. Your Whole Foods, Safeway, Giant, Genardi’s, and Super Fresh memberships (Whole Foods probably doesn’t have a membership card, but you won’t know that for a while. You’ll keep searching for it like a mad woman). YourRiteAid and CVS discount cards. Your….
I’m getting exhausted.
You get the point.
Last, but certainly not least (and also disregarding all the things I’ve forgotten), there are your various hotel accounts for which you’ve gained many, many “points” and your frequent flyer accounts – USAir, American Airlines, Southwest Air, Virgin Air, and others, many others, because you’ve traveled a lot of random places over the last 25 years with your now ex-husband.
Which brings me to my point. British Airways. You get to British Airways. You send British Airways your name change letter, indicating your name and address change, enclosing a notarized document from the court certifying your name change due to divorce. So far, you’ve mailed about 1,000 of these to the various places named above. You’ve had to pay for each notarized copy. You’ve had a bit of a struggle with various “institutions” that wanted further “proof” of your identity. Okay, you say. You’re okay with carefulness, because you don’t want to be a victim of identity fraud. Yes, you say, I will provide a copy of my driver’s license, passport, a copy of a letter mailed to me, etc. You want to body scan me? Fine. You want my fingerprints. Okay. You want to compare my nipples to those on my last mammo…. well….I guess…
But British Air is different. British Air is sticky. British Air responds to your request in an unexpected and odd way. Here’s a copy of their reply:
Dear Ms. (my name removed)
Thank you for getting in touch with us.
Just to confirm that your name on your Executive Club account has been amended. I have also ordered a new card for you, which you should receive in the next 28 days.
With regards to your new address details.
I can see from your Executive Club account you are part of a Household Account. As you may be aware, each member of a Household Account must have the same home address and only the primary member can make any changes to this address. As Mr (ex’s name removed) is the primary member, I’m afraid I am unable to update your address.
If all of your household has moved, then Mr (again, my ex’s name) will need to log in to His account online at ba.com to make any changes.
If you are the only person that has moved, then Mr (yes, you got it, my ex again) will need to log in to His account online at ba.com and remove you from the Household Account. When you are no longer a part of the Household Account you can log in to your account online at ba.com and make any changes.
To log in to your account you will need your membership number as your Login ID and your password or 4-digit PIN. If you do not have a PIN or password, or if you have forgotten it, you will need to apply for a new one online using the link ‘Forgotten PIN/Password?’ at ba.com. As soon as you receive your PIN, You can make changes to your account by clicking on ‘Manage my account’.
I hope you will find this helpful. Thank you for choosing British Airways and I hope you fly with us again in the not too distant future.
Best regards Michael Browne British Airways Executive Club Your case reference is: (xxxxx) Executive Club Number: (xxxxxxxx)
Please do not reply to this email as we will be unable to respond.
HOW TO CONTACT US If you have a particular query about British Airways, you can ask your question online, or send us an email:
Wow. What just happened?
Hmm. Were you just told that you would need your ex’s “permission” in order to change your address? Oh. Double wow.
What to do? I mean, short of sending a giant mound of cattle shit marked “C.O.D.” to the London Bridge.
Well, once you rebound from your indignation, you do what you do best. I don’t mean you give them the stink-eye. They can’t see the stink-eye from way over there across the Atlantic. No. You write an email response. You label it “Are you kidding? Check your calendar for the current century!” But your email is hog-tied. “It can’t get there from here.” Because you can’t email them directly from your Google account (by the way, did you change your name associated with your Google account, Facebook, twitter, blog, and instagram?). Because for British Air, you have to use their special email delivery system. Or maybe you don’t, and I’m just too techno-challenged to understand it all.
Now, for all those readers who have followed this saga to this point, I would like to sincerely thank you for your goodwill and attention! The whole reason for this post was for TheRespondicator to share with you her response to B.A. Here’s what TheRespondicator filled into the little B.A. complaint box on-line:
Dear BA executives,
At the bottom of this correspondence I have attached your recent email-response to my request that you change my name and address due to divorce. As you will notice when you review the paperwork I submitted to your offices, I sent an OFFICIAL NOTARIZED COURT DOCUMENT indicating my name change due to divorce. I think that it follows that I no longer fall under the “household” auspices of my former husband, despite your archaic wish to continue me in that status.
Surely this email that you sent in response to my request represents a very bad clerical error on your part.
In our civilized country, the courts recognize divorce as a legal division of a prior marital relationship. As such, they do not require women to obtain their ex-husbands’ signatures for situations such as the one in question.
I ask that you change my address immediately and without further insult to me. In addition, please correct my title to “Dr.” unless that change is also objectionable to you or incompatible with your policies.
Thank you most kindly for your swift attention to this matter.
Dr. (my new name)
Friends, what more could The Respondicator do?
And, by the way, that’s a rhetorical question……