like a shooting star it fades (shewasred) wrote in bad_service,
like a shooting star it fades
shewasred
bad_service

Recent posts about cashiers who won't talk to their customers reminded me of this. Let me say first that I tend to have some anxiety dealing with cashiers sometimes. The small talk they try to do makes me nervous and I just don't know what to say. So if I walk up to a cashier to pay, I'm probably not going to do more than smile and hand them my items. I'd rather wait for them to speak to me first before I can talk to them without my nerves getting the best of me. If that makes me a sucky customer... well, there's not so much I can do about that without some psychological help, I suppose.

That being said, one day I went to Sears. I found a pair of jeans that I wanted to buy, so I went up the register. There was one cashier and when I walked up she was writing a few things down in some sort of book. So I stand at the counter for a moment, holding my purchase. I don't set them down yet, because I'm waiting for her to say "I'll be with you in a moment" or something along those lines.

She says nothing, and I'm certain she has seen me, because she isn't exactly leaning over her notebook in such a manner that someone standing right in front of her register is completely invisible to her. So I wait.

I'm not sure how long I waited, but long enough for the friends I was shopping with to come by and ask me what was taking so long. I move off to the side and tell them that the cashier hasn't noticed I'm there, and they suggest that I put my items on the counter where she will have to acknowledge them.

I shift a little closer to the register... still no response. But! Another cashier is coming to save the day. Or so I think. He proceeds to stand behind the other cashier and look at what she is doing. Then he looks directly at me, right in the eye, and says... nothing. Doesn't appologize for my wait, doesn't suggest to his co-worker that she should help me, doesn't offer to help me himself (and there was a second register). Nothing.

I finally decided that I would have to take some action of my own if I was ever going to pay for my jeans, so I placed them down on the counter, loudly. The cashier finally looks up, and rings me up. Without. One. Single. Word.

I'm not sure the jeans were even worth the bother.
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