Have y’all noticed how hard it is to get anyone to do their job?
It’s another sign of my age, I’m sure, but I remember learning a skill set we usta call customer service. Y’all remember customer service?
It wasn’t a hard skill to hone. I would be kind to people while trying to solve their problems in a way that didn’t cost the company a fortune, while making sure the customer would come back to spend more money again. It was hardly a novel concept when I entered the work force at fifteen, but it may well be on its way to extinction now.
For most of my life Recently, I’ve had really poor service. Miserable cashiers, angry clerks, salesmen too busy to help, and waitresses who couldn’t see my husband have all been annoying me. Sometimes I wonder if the people behind the registers are dying? I ask myself, “My God, is this woman trapped here against her will?” I glance at her feet to see if she’s tethered. I wouldn’t be surprised at all if she mouthed out “help me” or pointed to undesired track marks on her arms.
Do y’all remember when the salesperson was helpful? Remember when they wanted to sell you merchandise whether they were paid hourly or worked on commission? Yeah, they don’t much do that anymore. I’m not even sure they give accurate information. Can I use a stylus on this phone? Is there an additional charge for delivery? Don’t I need a garter belt for these stockings? May I please have Scotch-Guard on this chair? They dunno. They don’t think so. *rolls eyes* If you want answers, you need a manager.
Then there’s a whole new thing where the company tells you, the client who’s paying them, how it’s gonna be.
“Well how we do it is…” And that’s the end of my patronage, right there.
I don’t need anyone to make a big deal over my mop purchase at the Dollar Tree, but I think “thank you” should be compulsory from anyone who takes my money?
And maybe at the grocer they could not scan and slam my fresh peaches down to the bagger? *gasps in horror*
When I pull a bug off my daughter’s shirt and tell the front desk clerk we’re checkin out, maybe they don’t try to keep our money for the two itchy hours we spent at their hotel?
I’d prefer affable, but I’d settle for just not rude..
If you work in the shoe department, if I ask you for those shoes in a size 2, maybe you say you’ll check. Maybe you don’t sigh, snatch it out of my hand, and stomp off. Is that unreasonable?
And what is the deal with extra guac? Extra guac costs more, but it only weighs about four ounces, so why is it so hard for the server to BRING the extra guac? And why, when she arrives sans guac, does she roll her eyes at me? What the fuck is that about?
The last two times we dined out, the servers took my appetizer order and walked away. Is this a new trend? Men don’t order appetizers anymore? Or perhaps they believed my husband would like to share my minuscule cup of French onion soup?
Of all the places I go and all the services I use, it’s only my bank that treats me like they want my business — and I don’t even have real money! It’s like they care! When I call, it’s like they’ve been sitting there waiting just for me. One time, I got disconnected and they called me back! *blinks*
I cannot believe I have just publicly praised a bank, but it’s true.
My bank would totally bring me extra guac for free. Then they would thank me for choosing their guac and ask me if there’s anything else they could do for me.