Crazy Curves Character...

Did you like the alliteration there? I was going to name this, "Curves, How I Hate Thee, Let Me Count The Ways" but "Crazy Curves Character" is just so much more fun.

So in January, my friend Jackie decided to join Curves. When she signed up, they pressured her (hard) to give them three names of three other ladies they could call to tell them the GREAT news about how WONDERFUL Curves is. Also, they told her if she did supply the three names, she would get a free book. She folded, and gave them my name. They called and told me that Jackie had told them to call me (okay, fine, I guess in a way she did) and then proceeded to put the screws on me about joining Curves. I told them I might come in. They wanted a date. I gave them one. They wanted a time. My gosh, just leave me alone already! I gave them one.

HINT: I hate confrontation. Like most people hate the flu and massive traffic jams, I hate confrontation. I will be in one if I absolutely have to, but I'll do a whole lot before I get to the "absolutely have to" stage. Up to and including telling people that I'll go to a gym on a certain day and a certain time. After the Curves lady let me off the phone, I called Jackie. "JACKIE!!!! How could you give them my name??!" After profuse apologies and explanation, she said, "But you don't actually need to go to Curves, which is one of the reasons that I gave them your name. What if I had given them the name of a really heavy-set person, and that really hurt their feelings? I could never do that. So I gave them yours."

"Well, I'm going to go on Friday with you."

"Are you serious?? Why?! You were supposed to tell them no!!" Thus says the woman who is (if possible) even worse with confrontation than I am.

So long story short, I actually signed up for Curves with the intention to exercise with Jackie X amount of times per week (I think we were going for three at the beginning, although that number changed multiple times.) We never did very well with our goal because either I was sick or she was sick, and I'm REALLY not a morning person--7:00, 7:30 is okay, 5:45 is not. I tried going once by myself because Jackie was sick, and that was just about the worst experience ever. Nothing like going around the same machines twice, staring across the room at other people that you don't know, have no breath to talk to anyway, but feel the social obligation to at least chat about the superficial things in life. I left, came home, called Jackie, and told her never again. A vow I actually managed to keep, imagine that. ;-)

But then Jackie got the brilliant idea that she ought to move across the country (BAD Jackie!!) and leave me all alone. Yes, in case you were wondering, it IS all about me. ;-) There wasn't anyway I was going to do the Curves by myself, so I called at the beginning of July to cancel my membership.

"There's a $50 fee for cancelling, and it takes 30 days to put the cancellation into place. You have to come in to sign the paperwork."

I was a bit twerked about the $50 fee, but whatever. I went in to sign the paperwork.

"Oh no, we don't have anything to sign. You have to send us a letter."

Now you're just getting ridiculous. I smiled, held my tongue, went home, and sent them a polite cancellation notice. My membership was charged on the 10th of the month, and because of their shenanigans, I didn't send it out the cancellation letter until the 12th of the month. Technically, I should have been charged another month ($30) AND the cancellation fee ($50) but I figured it was so close, and it was their fault I sent it when I did, that they surely wouldn't do it.

August 10th rolls around. $30 fee taken out. No cancellation fee though. September 10th rolls around. $30 out, $50 stayed. I usually don't complain about not having money taken out, but this was obviously a problem. I called Curves and explained to the lady who answered what happened. She pulled out my chart.

"Oh, we tried to call you multiple times, but we never got an answer. I tried lots of times myself. I never wrote it down when I tried to call, but I know I did." Bull crap, plain and simple. I have a cell phone only (no landline) and my phone tells me when I missed a call, what the number is of who called, etc, and there was no way that some mysterious phone number kept showing up as a missed call. I get very few phone calls, and I would have called the number back if this was the case. And since I have voice mail she should have left me a message anyway. I knew she was lying to me, and that made me mad. She kept going.

"When you cancel, you have to come in and sign a cancellation contract. And you have to pay us $50."

I about choked. I explained (nicely, although VERY firmly) that I had TRIED to cancel in person, but they wouldn't let me! And why on earth would I write them a check for $50 to cancel? They took money out of my checking account each month quite regularly, so why not take out the $50 instead of $30?

"Oh, we can only take out the $30 by law. We cannot withdraw anything other than that amount." And this would have been very nice to tell me when I tried to call and cancel originally.

She promised me that she would call her supervisor and then call me right back. She called me back a couple of hours later.

"My boss offered that if you come in and sign the cancellation form in person, then we'll just consider each other even."

I was mad at this point, truly I was. First off, this $50 fee is fine. Whatever. If I wanted to cancel my cell phone contract, I would have to pay $150. I understand fees. I do NOT understand the 30 day part. By putting the cancellation fee with this clause, they are guaranteeing themselves that you'll pay A) this month's fee, B) next month's fee, and C) the cancellation fee. Before you can quit, you have to pay them $140. Nice for them, bad for you.

So when I got mad, I'm quite afraid I got rude. Not screaming, but certainly not on my best behavior.

"As I see it, you guys owe ME money. I cancelled, and yet you still took out TWO months of membership fees. Those fees come to $60. I owe you $50 for cancelling. So although it's nice of your boss to consider us "even" I quite frankly don't. You owe me $10. And I am NOT coming into Curves." The only way I will ever step foot inside of Curves again is if a large pile of gold is sitting in the middle of the building with my name on it, and that is the only way to get to it. Even then, I would probably promise someone a portion of the gold if they would just retrieve it for me. I'm that anti-Curves by this point.

She tried to push me, tried to get me to come in, tried all sorts of things, and I told her not a chance on this green earth. I finally told her, "Forget the $10. I hate Curves and will never come back, but whatever. But I absolutely refuse to step inside of Curves again. End of discussion. I sent you a letter, EXACTLY like I was told to do, and I refuse to redo what I did right in the first place, all because you guys can't get your act together." Yeah, I was a little upset. ;-)

She agreed, and hung up. I lost my $10, I hate Curves with a passion, but at least I won the (tiny) battle of going back there again.

The cherry on the top? The woman called me from her home a few hours later. "Hi, this is Melanie! I'm the one from Curves this morning. I know you were upset, and I'm sorry about that. I was calling because I have a home-based business that I really think you would be interested in! If you have time, I would like to tell you about it!" My jaw hit the floor. This lady was clinically insane. I agreed to let her call me on Friday to give me more info, then hung up. I promptly went into my address book in my cell phone and saved her home phone number as "DO NOT ANSWER!" She has since called me twice and sent me info in the mail on her business. (You sign up, and you only have to sign up 9 other people! Buy $700 worth of product for $350! YUCK!)

I live in a city that the State Mental Hospital is located in (no joke.) So you have to wonder: Am I dealing with a former psych patient here?? ::gulp:: ;-)

Hava, the Curves Hater