March 8th, 2009

I'm doing what?

This may be more WTF service than bad service. Or maybe a little of both.

My mother wound up in the hospital the week before Christmas due to complications from kidney disease. She nearly died on the 19th, but thankfully pulled through, and was able to go home on Christmas Eve. I spent pretty much every waking moment of that week either at work or at the hospital, so by the time she came home I was pretty much a walking zombie. Despite her health, she was determined to have Christmas dinner as usual, so on Christmas Day, I get up early and drive across town. I make a quick stop at a gas station/convenience store I always go to, to pick up a diet soda and something to eat so I can have breakfast in the car on the way over. I also pick up a bag of orange slice candy for Mom, since it's one of the few treats she can have on her restricted diet.

I go up to the counter to pay. There are two registers open, one on the left and one on the right. I get in line on the right. I hear the lady say to the guy ahead of me, "If you're buying lottery, you have to go to the other register." Then she looked at me and said, "Are you buying lottery?" I said no. She finishes with the guy ahead of me, and I move up and put my three items down on the counter:

One (1) bottle of diet Mountain Dew
One (1) cream cheese and berries pastry thing
One (1) bag of orange slice candy

She asks me again if I am buying lottery tickets. I tell her no. She fusses around behind the counter for a minute, putting bags away or whatever, then she asks me again. I'm getting a little annoyed now, so I say "No." She stops what she's doing, looks at me, and snaps, "Well, you're acting like you're buying a lottery ticket."

WTF? How the hell do you act like you're buying a lottery ticket? I looked down again. A bottle of diet soda, a pastry and a bag of candy. No playslips, no pencils, not even an 'I ♥ The Lottery' T-shirt.

Had I had more than ten hours of sleep in the last four days, I probably wouldn't have said anything. However, I was exhausted, stressed and what can I say? I yelled at her. "I'm acting like I'm buying FOOD AND A DRINK." Cue more huffing from the clerk. "I'm SORRY, ma'am." *huff huff slam*

I may have been a sucky customer, but I'm not convinced. I did feel semi-bad about it later. But in my own defense, I've snapped at a clerk maybe twice in my life. I don't go around shouting at people. But she asked me three times, in addition to her bizarre accusation that I was somehow putting off lottery ticket buying vibes. So, I'm not proud of myself for yelling at her, but I'm not apologizing for it, either. I'm a human being, people. I'm not made of wood.

Update to PICC freaked cashier

I don't know how to do links, sorry.
But this is my update to my earlier post about the cashier who freaked over my PICC.

As I said the store manager of that store, K, knows me from doing non-profit work together. He's actually in the process of taking over my position on a board. So he called me today to ask about some paperwork that I was trying to find. In script format

Me: Is it okay if I talk to you about a work related thing or should I call you Monday?
K: I wanted to talk to you about it anyway.
Me: Oh you heard?
K: Yeah, what's the deal with coming into my store dripping blood?
Me: HUH?! That's what you heard?
K: Um yeah, what happened
Me: Your cashier freaked about my PICC line yells that I'm "too gross for words" asks loudly if I'm "positive for AIDS or Hep C" and then says I'm going to bleed on the floor.
K: ....... (he was silent for about 20 seconds) What the hell?
Me: Exactly.
K: Okay, I have to have you come in Monday and fill out the official complaint so I can fire her.


Misinformation + Bad Attitude=Bad Service

So, I had to go in early for a meeting at work on what would otherwise be a day off. Rather than mess around at home, I decided to stop for espresso on my way and actually eat something later.

I pulled into a cafe with a drivethrough espresso window that I've bought from before, although not in some time*. The car ahead of me took long enough that I had plenty of time to count my cash, study the menu board and choose a twelve-ounce mocha for $2.75. Tax meant I would get only a few pennies back from my $3.

I pulled up and ordered my mocha. The barista produced it fairly quickly, set it on the counter and said "That'll be $3.24."

I had the cash already extended and I just blinked at her, then said, "Uh...fifty cents' tax?"

She said VERY snippily, "No, 24 cents tax. The price is three dollars."

She pointed to an 8x11 sheet of paper in the window, half-concealed behind jars of biscotti and muffins and visible once I had pulled up only by craning my neck.

I looked at her, I looked at the paper (with what did seem to be a price list on it, from the parts I could see), and then I looked behind me at the huge menu board with two-inch-high lettering. And I said, "Well, you should change the prices on the big sign then, because I only have three dollars." I set the money on the shelf next to the drink.

It came out annoyed, but the attitude was the main reason for my annoyance--silly me for believing your damned menu, jeez.

She huffed a sigh at me and said "Well, I'd just have to throw it away ANYWAY--" in an even nastier tone (if that's possible) before picking up the money and pushing the drink closer to me.

I took the drink, set it in the cupholder and said "You really should do something about that sign," as I rolled the window up.

Really. If you can post a sheet of paper in the window, you can at the very least put more paper on the big signboard to tell people PRICES HAVE CHANGED.

*Plse note this is the only OPEN stand in town at six-thirty on a Saturday morning.