A bit like food poisoning, I’ll dare bet you’ve also stumbled across crap customer service. Yep, I guessed it.
I’m used to crap service; people doing jobs they hate and generally hating life, I get you. But the thing is, you’re there, you took the job, so get on with it.
Today I encountered the crappest of crap service. In Next. I explained (nicely) to the cashier that I wanted to exchange the 8 items of boys’ clothing like for like, however, I could only find 5 of the said 8 on the shop floor. Well instead of actually listening to me, she was all too arsed with the woman being served next to me who was off to Marbella (I refuse to call it Marbs) this weekend. So of course, she messed my request up. When I politely (agitated, given) asked her to focus on my request, she looked at me like I was a turd.
A turd. A poo. A plop. That’s how she looked at me. For f*ck sake I thought, how hard is it to listen? That’s all I’m after all isn’t it? For her to listen and carry out what I’m asking. For a moment I nearly went all Drita D’avanzo a la Mob Wives on her and punched her in the tit but decided at the last moment i’d probably just come across as a dick.
So there you have it. Crap service at its’ finest all because the cashier couldn’t be arsed to listen. I couldn’t work in customer services as I’m just not a people person. And neither was she.
And another thing, I’ll dare bet as I walked off she gave me the V’s – well right back at you. Mofo.