Then there's CSR who are genuine asses, taking it out on customers for who-knows-what reason. Some CSRs who heap hate and bile onto customers like some customers do to CSRs. And I don't like people like that, because I might get their second-hand crap down the road sometime.
So gather 'round kids, and try and not make a joker out of Mr. Carpenter. For I bring you the first ever bad_service edition, and the first for 007... Tales. Tales of the PAAAAST!
Our hero is somewhat of a bibliophile. Not a Yomiko Readman type of level yet, but it's getting there. So whenever our hero goes to the mall, a trip to whatever bookstore is in there is usually made. And if he leaves with nothing, that means he's broke. Goddamn you Desiderius Erasmus.
Anyway, while our hero was browsing the manga section for lovely translated Japanese goodness, (Side note: Mmmmm, Boogiepop...) another customer walks into and proceeded to ask the cashier a question. In Spanish.
Now our hero works retail. He's been in that situation before. Usually, you tell them, politely, that you don't speak that language. No harm, no foul. ... Unless they act like an idiot, then it's a whole new game. But that cashier?
"Hey! I don't speak Spanish. Did you expect me to speak Spanish because of how I look? I speak English." She spewed, possibly with more expletives. We're unsure of it right now, the hate kinda overrode the sentence.
But... Wow. Now running through our hero's head: '... What the shit was that fuck?' Staring Christopher Walken being a weapon of choice. However, the other customer repeats the question in English, and she gets her information, albeit with a bit less, though not completely gone, attitude. And our hero was going to write it off as the cashier dealing with a possible repeat idiotic customer.
Was. You see, when our hero proceeded up to the register with his dead-and-pulped tree product, he realized that may not have been the case.
Now our hero brings up his book to the aforementioned rude cashier, gets his little bookstore rewards card scanned, and pays with ye old partly holiday fried credit card. The cashier then asked for an ID. Our hero knows this, not only with the usual holidays credit card fraud protection going on, but also since he has his signature on the back along with the words "Verify name with ID." Because you can't sign the card with See ID/CID, but you can get the ID check on there.
Alas, due to his own stupidity, our hero left his driver's license in his truck, which was parked at the other end of the mall. But our hero had his military ID. And in all honesty, our hero doesn't really like pulling that card unless he's forced or has to. Or because you're a Grade-A asshole who needs an owning from our hero, his band of brothers, and the four groups of wayward cousins. Basically, as long as you're nowhere near a military base, it's the ID version of a trump card.
Anyway, the military ID comes out, and the only thing different between the picture and our hero is a bit more hair, both of the "top of head" and "facial" variety. But not enough to where you could go "that ain't you."
The cashier? "I need a driver's license." She states. To which our hero politely informs her that his license is in his truck, which is parked on the other side of the mall, somewhere between lots bumfuck and podunk. And since our hero is not trained in the art of Zwee Fighting, nor can he obtain hair boner status, he could not get the damned thing in under a second. Okay, maybe not the last part.
I wish that was the end of the story. I wish that the cashier only had a brain fart and accepted the ID, and our hero went about his happy little day. I wish I was a little bit taller, I wish I was a baller...
"I. Need. A. Driver's. License." Stated the cashier, like our hero was an idiot or a small child.
Our hero wishes he wasn't dealing with The SUtP1DZ. And when you pull something like that, it presents you as a dick. And now our hero has to out-dick you. Damned that competitive superiority issue complex he has.
So our hero asks the one simple question: "Why?"
"Because." stated the cashier.
... Because... why? It's policy? A ruling handed down from a judge? The invisible pixies told you? I'm sorry, but: Operation failed. Reason = not given. Abort/Retry/Fail.
So congratulations bitch cashier! You just turned the ID card that our hero didn't want to play into one he's so glad that he did. And, like I said, our hero will not be out-dicked. So he asks "So a state issued ID is higher than a federal government issued one?"
To which the cashier threw her hands up in the air, said "Whatever, I don't need this shit." And promptly stalked away, leaving our hero standing there, blinking at the sheer WTF-ness of it all.
... Well, someone wanted to commit paycheck suicide. Just call our hero Kevorkian then. So after a nice ride home with some very loud metal, (Dethklok's "Crush My Battle Opponent's Balls" seemed to fit.) onto the bookstore's corporate website he went, and sent a nice, long e-mail. One that not only told our hero's story, but the also about the incident with the other customer. But he did not ask for anything though, just the normal company procedures on dealing with jackassed CSRs like that.
However, our hero did hint at how he hopes that it's not the bookstore's policy for not taking a military ID for proof of ID, because it would be a spit in the face of all service members everywhere. Because, like I said, our hero will not be out-dicked. And stabbing and twisting can be fun.
Alas, our hero has not yet been back to that bookstore. But eventually, he will. And hopefully be waited on by a with a cashier that is a bit more non-dickish.
- RJ, who's more like Maggie Mui, personality-wise.
(X-posts: bad_service, talesofthepaast.)