someone I used to date...
"So today I got away with the most flagrantly rude behavior I've ever committed while in a customer service job.
The customer was being a dick. Glowering, tapping his fingers, feeling he had the right to call me by name just because it was displayed on my little name tag, etc. I came rapidly to hate this man with a burning intensity that completely ignored how brief a time I had been subjected to him. This was the sort of guy who, in high school, I would have either stabbed with a pencil (yes, I really did do that once- in the hand, so no chance of fatal injury) or attacked with a whirlwind of wild but hard punches, or arranged to be expelled. Those who know me well know how occasionally, someone will piss me off just by existing, and sometimes, someone who is genuinely irritating will enrage me beyond all reason (see: half of my Senior class). This was somewhere between those two. I may be mellowing with age. Which would be good, in the real world, you go to jail for shanking a guy with a pencil.
So instead of going to jail, I looked at him as I took his order, and said, "Ok, that'll be $4.08 And you have to quit being a dick."
Him: "Ex-CUSE me?"
Me: "Before I give you food, you have to quit being a dick. Otherwise you can take your $4.08 and shove it."
Quite a bit of back and forth ensued, but I was in my deepest sort of fast-food/customer service despair, which usually manifests as being ZEN right in everyone's FACE. In short, I am so imperturbable that it really pisses people off. So my end of the "back and forth" was the sort of unflinching honesty you only get from someone who feels that he has nothing to lose.
"You walk in here expecting us to treat you like king shit because you have five bucks. (he growls some obscenities) Being on that side of the counter doesn't grant you a superior social position or functioning brain. (he continues to growl something, but I ignore him) You can either treat me like an equal who just happens to be responsible for the preparation of your food this evening, or you can go home."
He went home.
Chris, one of my co-workers, gaped for a minute, then applauded. Chris isn't a bad guy. His name tag reads "Christ." The manager who made it didn't realize what he was doing, and Chris hasn't mentioned it. Like I said, Chris will not be first against the wall when the revolution comes.
My manager, Enrique, doesn't speak much English, and he has a hard time following it when it's fast or emotional, so he had no idea what the guy was talking about, and all he knew was that the guy was barking and swaggering, while I was being totally calm and reasonable-sounding. So he actually came over and comforted me after the whole thing, saying, "Ees okay, man, some peoples are just the... ahss-hohlz."
.........
Years have passed between us, but little does he know that I am QUITE the creepy internet stalker. He was an amazing writer, though I never understood why he always chose shitty retail and food-service jobs. I always thought he'd be a great history teacher and/or uni-bomber-- OR BOTH. He hasn't posted anything in the last few months and I am far too reticent to even email him.
The customer was being a dick. Glowering, tapping his fingers, feeling he had the right to call me by name just because it was displayed on my little name tag, etc. I came rapidly to hate this man with a burning intensity that completely ignored how brief a time I had been subjected to him. This was the sort of guy who, in high school, I would have either stabbed with a pencil (yes, I really did do that once- in the hand, so no chance of fatal injury) or attacked with a whirlwind of wild but hard punches, or arranged to be expelled. Those who know me well know how occasionally, someone will piss me off just by existing, and sometimes, someone who is genuinely irritating will enrage me beyond all reason (see: half of my Senior class). This was somewhere between those two. I may be mellowing with age. Which would be good, in the real world, you go to jail for shanking a guy with a pencil.
So instead of going to jail, I looked at him as I took his order, and said, "Ok, that'll be $4.08 And you have to quit being a dick."
Him: "Ex-CUSE me?"
Me: "Before I give you food, you have to quit being a dick. Otherwise you can take your $4.08 and shove it."
Quite a bit of back and forth ensued, but I was in my deepest sort of fast-food/customer service despair, which usually manifests as being ZEN right in everyone's FACE. In short, I am so imperturbable that it really pisses people off. So my end of the "back and forth" was the sort of unflinching honesty you only get from someone who feels that he has nothing to lose.
"You walk in here expecting us to treat you like king shit because you have five bucks. (he growls some obscenities) Being on that side of the counter doesn't grant you a superior social position or functioning brain. (he continues to growl something, but I ignore him) You can either treat me like an equal who just happens to be responsible for the preparation of your food this evening, or you can go home."
He went home.
Chris, one of my co-workers, gaped for a minute, then applauded. Chris isn't a bad guy. His name tag reads "Christ." The manager who made it didn't realize what he was doing, and Chris hasn't mentioned it. Like I said, Chris will not be first against the wall when the revolution comes.
My manager, Enrique, doesn't speak much English, and he has a hard time following it when it's fast or emotional, so he had no idea what the guy was talking about, and all he knew was that the guy was barking and swaggering, while I was being totally calm and reasonable-sounding. So he actually came over and comforted me after the whole thing, saying, "Ees okay, man, some peoples are just the... ahss-hohlz."
Years have passed between us, but little does he know that I am QUITE the creepy internet stalker. He was an amazing writer, though I never understood why he always chose shitty retail and food-service jobs. I always thought he'd be a great history teacher and/or uni-bomber-- OR BOTH. He hasn't posted anything in the last few months and I am far too reticent to even email him.
The internet makes me weird.
this was said around 3:00 AM /
1 Comments:
my favorite pass time is internet stalking. it ranks up there with watching tv and looking up pictures of cats.
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