Bolstered by the Beyhive

Here’s something crazy. I had tickets for Beyonce’s Formation tour that stopped in Los Angeles a few weeks ago, and I almost didn’t go.

What?

Yes. I almost didn’t go because I didn’t want to go alone. Stupid, right? Granted, parking fees at the Rose Bowl could deter anyone, but once you’ve spent upwards of $200 on a ticket, you shouldn’t be pre-occupied with that marginal cost.

I acknowledge that I didn’t have to go alone. I could’ve asked my new friends in LA if they wanted to go. I could’ve broadcast my intentions on Facebook and gathered a group to buy tickets together. I could’ve done all these things, but I just didn’t feel like they’d happen, whether due to scheduling snafus or their general disinterest.

I was prepared to feel alone in LA. It’s a sprawling metropolis, and everyone’s busy with their own lives. I still haven’t made a ton of friends here, and those I can call new friends, I don’t know very well yet. I’m doing my best to change that though.

As a consequence, I leaned on my friends from high school a lot. When I needed to complain, and it happens more often than I’m proud of, they were the ones who got my Facebook messages or texts. (Side note: I should buck the millennial stereotype and call people more…) Over time, I began to take for granted how much negativity a person could take, no matter how close of a friend they are to you. I was using my friends as “trash cans,” if you will. And that outweighs any success I feel like I’ve managed in my first year as an adult. (By “success,” I mean paying my bills on time and managing my road rage.)

Ironically, it is one of these very friends who slapped verbal sense into me and encouraged me to go to the concert. I’m very glad I did.

Beyonce’s set, a giant LED-covered cube that opened and closed to reveal her and her dancers, projected her magnificence so that everyone in the stadium could see. The guys behind me abandoned their chill and turned into blubbering fangirls.

beyonce singing
Queen in action.

At first, I felt self-conscious as a solo attendee sandwiched between drunk middle-aged women gal pals and a son and his (probably confused) father. I wanted to bop along to Snoop’s surprise performance of “Drop It Like It’s Hot.” I wanted to go crazy and wave my arms and scream, “Yas, yas, YAS!” But I was alone, and I contained my crazy.

I spotted another girl a few rows in front of me, who I later realized was also attending the concert alone. Carefree and decidedly not self-conscious, she jammed along to the beats. Suddenly, I felt silly. I had thought all along that I would be one of the minority coming alone, but right there was another example.

Bolstered by the Beyhive around me, I started letting loose during “Run the World (Girls).” And then Beyonce delivered just what I needed that night.

beyonce formation tour
Benelovent queen Bey.

She spoke about being there for yourself and loving yourself first, and then…

“Me myself and I, that’s all I got in the end, that’s what I found out and there ain’t no need to cry…”

She is an omniscient queen indeed.

Humor Me: Customer Service Struggz

I’m currently about 30 minutes into my estimated wait time of 60 minutes to get help from FTD, a floral and gift delivery service. (Bon Jovi said it best, “Whoa, we’re halfway there, whoa-oah! Living on a prayer!”) I ordered flowers for Mother’s Day, and they were supposed to arrive yesterday. Maybe they’ll arrive today, I thought. Most unfortunately, the latest they say they can deliver is until 9pm, and in my mom’s time zone, it’s past that time.

This is the only occasion I ever need to order flowers. But needless to say, I’m wishing I just ordered something off of Amazon Prime like I usually do. I am so sorry, Prime. I forsook you, and now I’m being punished for it. I see the error of my ways. It won’t happen again. Please accept my humblest apologies.

The old, well technically, younger, me would be slamming my pantry and refrigerator doors as I scrounge for snacks to munch on while I wait. But no, I’m enlightened now after four years of higher education and a lifetime of learning social conventions. Instead I’m channeling my frustration into a creative outlet. Look, ma, no hard feelings!

I actually have some thoughtful feedback for whoever wrote the recorded messages that chime in at spaced out interludes of the calming elevator music. For some reason, it sounds like the same music that plays during the Cars ride at Disneyland. I could be delusional at this point though. Lucky for FTD, I love that ride.

“Nothing says ‘I care’ more than an FTD floral arrangement. That’s because our FTD florists put the greatest care and the freshest flowers into each beautiful design…they know that you’re not just sending flowers, you’re sending a personal message to someone very special.”

I would argue that “nothing says you care” like answering my customer service call in less than an hour. (Sorry Bon Jovi, we overshot, now we’re more than the whole way there.) Can I be someone very special, too, FTD?

“Thanks for your patience. In consideration of your time, we encourage you to visit our website at FTD.com for fast and easy online ordering. Otherwise, please hold…”

Are you kidding me? How about starting with, “Thank you for your patience. We know you have better things to do with your time, but rest assured that we’ll be assisting you shortly.” Most likely I’ve ordered from your site already, which is why I’m even on the phone right now.

“It’s easy. It’s convenient. FTD.com is here to serve you 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. We’re ready and waiting to assist you wherever and whenever you need to get that perfect gift. Whether you’re at home, or in the office, at 2pm, or 2am…”

I guess 24 hours a day is the average because I’ve already been holding for an hour. I just don’t understand how customer service for flowers could take this long. 🙁 Wait, do I have a better chance of my call getting answered in a reasonable amount of time if I call at 2am?


After an hour and 15 minutes, my call was ultimately answered. And then?

“Got it. Let me just put you on hold for a brief second, okay?”

Guess how many seconds it’s been?