Exasperated sigh. “Mommy, why do you ALWAYS have to fight wherever we go?” This is from The Teen.
I don’t fight. I fuss. Let’s get that straight. Let’s also understand that I don’t look for trouble. And no, trouble doesn’t find me. What I have found is that customer service has come to a screeching halt.
Not that I expect the red carpet to be rolled out for my visit to a store, but I do expect that as the customer, I’m treated like I matter. I mean come on, the country is in a damn recession! My patronage of your store means that I have taken the time to consider your establishment to spend my hard earned funds.
Back to School shopping is already a stressful time. There must have been something in the water in 1995 because the Teen has a helluva time finding clothes that fit. Since she’s like her mama (thick) and tall (last check she was at 5’8″) she has a difficult time finding stylish clothes that fit. Which means she gets frustrated, which then manifests in major attitude. Couple that with a grouchy salesperson…I *may* be a little combative.
I just believe that customer service is a non negotiable. In my previous life, best believe that customer service or experience was a high portion of my quarterly bonus. Granted, I was dealing with people’s money, but still. The customer mattered.
Apparently, we don’t matter to Staples. The cashier never acknowledged me as I waited for her. She didn’t look up, didn’t thank me, didn’t do anything a self service computer could not have accomplished. She did, however, greet the blonde behind me quite exuberantly. I call it like I see it and I feel that if I were the blonde who was exuberantly greeted, I wouldn’t be typing this now. Good and bad, I call people on the bs.
Visiting Old Navy, to the Boy’s chagrin, was a much better experience. Perhaps they realize what we were doing and know that their solvency depends on service. Perhaps they screen better. In any event, I am glad to report a non fight trip.
-Created on the fly by Mrsrkfj