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Tuesday, August 23, 2011

Resolutions, Rants and Revelations

Ok, so it's been a really friggin' long time since I've added a new post! It's the long awaited rant of a retail worker, a la Kevin Smith and Clerks: Since I've gone back to the retail end of seafood, I really have no legitimate complaints. I love my job. I'm actually paid what I'm worth (sort of) and I actually get the respect of a title (supervisor). I truly enjoy what I do. But with the good always comes the bad. For instance, there is the tried and true maxim of customer service: The customer is always right... and I amended it ...except when they're not!

With that in mind, here are a few of my favorite customer scenarios. I have taken to filing the scenarios and my reactions in a mental archive:

I love it when I ask a customer if I can help them, and they look right through me, even though we have made eye contact. 


I love it when I ask someone if they need help and the clearly hear me but ignore me. My response is always, "I guess not then!"


If you come up to my counter and you're talking on your cell phone, don't expect me to ask you for help. Put your fucking phone away, and then I'll gladly serve you.


If you come up to my counter and you're talking on your cell phone, don't use your eyes to try and get my attention. And if you continue to talk on your phone, don't get pissy that I don't ask you if you need help. You clearly don't need help. The market is not a place for multi-tasking. Hang up the fucking phone!


In the same vein, don't come up to my counter with your damned bluetooth headset on. I'm not going to know if you are talking to me or the voice in your ear. So I won't ask you if you need help. 


And to those of you who are in a rush and want to be served first, and quickly, here's a newsflash: I'm a quick study to body language. I'll make your visit to my counter last a fucking lifetime!


And for those of you who point to the tray and say, "I want that one." Guess what? I DON'T KNOW WHAT THE FUCK YOU'RE POINTING AT! Just tell me, 4th from you, or 4th from the case. We don't number what we sell, but I can count!


Oh, and for those of you in a rush asking for me to use a number system: Give yourself more fucking time to shop. Breathe. Take it easy. Why are you in such a hurry? It's not my fault!  I'm not the deli. 


You're on an honor system. If you cut in line when I say, "Who's next?" the person or people who have been waiting longest are going to know what a bitch you are. Deal with it when I take the person next to you instead!


Whew. I'm done for now. And seriously, I love my job. Without these pain-in-the-ass customers, I wouldn't have a job!

ZD

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