It's come to this?

Mom: You used to get Better Homes and Gardens, right?
A.: I did, once.
Mom: And you had no problem unsubscribing?
A.: No.
Mom: Well, as usual, I've no such luck.
A.: How is that even possible?
Mom: Well, they sent me a renewal notice, but then they sent another letter saying that since I didn't respond, they assume I'm "satisfactioned" and are not only renewing my subscription but also starting two gift ones.
A.: They can't do that, mom. Just ignore them.
Mom: Then they'll bill me.
A.: They can't. If they do, don't pay it. Just ignore them.
Mom: I don't think it's that easy...
A.: Call them.
Mom: There was no number. They said I had to go online...
A.: [Exasperated sigh] Send me your account number and I'll go online and unsubscribe you.
Mom: Can't you just go in by my name?
A.: No.
Mom: But...

This went on with more "just..."s from me and "but..."s from her, until I said...

A.: Either send me your account number or stop wasting my time.
Mom: Fine.

***
As usual, mom caught me in a crappy mood. I was pissy because Trader Joe's was out of organic lemons (what the f* are they good for if not that? they were out of a bunch of other staples last week). I was pissy because something else had recently disappointed me--what was it? Was it the People's Republic of Del Ray, where a couple of people, at various times, opted to walk in front of my car, in the dark? That's to be expected, though. It wasn't the Post--the usual suspect--which came through today with this masterpiece, and you know I love that $hit. Anyway, I was slightly better on the way home from TJ's, thinking about how my handbag never disappoints--I had a power drill (and battery pack) in there together with the kefir I'd just bought and a couple of tupperware containers for lunch. But I digress. Or not, because I don't remember what I was on about.