To me, in any job there is some degree of customer service regardless of your employment. This past weekend I seem to have come in contact with those who were absent the day that customer service was taught.
First, the bank: I sat, and sat, and sat. I was cashing a check (and a small one at that). Finally, the woman comes over the loudspeaker and asks me if I want to cash the check. (Um, isn't that evident by the fact that I endorsed it and sent my license through the tube-thing?) I told her yes, I did. More sitting. The next question was whether or not I had an account there. (Um, yeah, for about four dang years!) I told her I did. I was asked if I new the account number because she couldn't find it. (Hm. Every other time--like, every two weeks--when I come to cash my paycheck they seem to be able to find it.) I give her the number. Off we go.
Stop number two: The pharmacy. I was already perturbed because when I drove up the drive-thru had a sign in its window that read, "Closed, please come inside." Ugh. When I walked up to the counter and gave the woman my name, she found my bag and said, "Uh-oh." (Uh-oh, what?) She tells me my insurance did not go through. She asked me if I had moved. No. She asked me if this was a new prescription. No. She asked me if I had gotten a new insurance card. No. (Great, I got fired and no one bothered to tell me!) I asked what to do. She told me they'd call Blue Cross and use my social security number. A few minutes later, the woman on the telephone is motioning for me to come over. The woman on the phone proceeds to ask me the same questions that the woman behind the counter did a few minutes before. Finally, the mystery is solved, but only in the sense that I got my medicine. For some reason they have my birthday wrong. Hm.
And last, but not least: The nail salon. For the first time since Halloween, I was going out with one of my friends and I thought I'd treat myself to a pedicure. Nice, huh? I think these people have forgotten what type of business they are in: Service. Sheesh. First I got a lecture on NOT wanting to use the massage chair. (I jiggle enough on my own, thank you, I don't need a chair to do it for me). Next came the real speech: You no have pedicure long time? No. You should have pedicure more time. Make feet nice. Why, I asked, are they free??? Next came the punishment part of my "treat." This little woman attacked my feet with her pumice like she was trying to shoe a horse. Yes, I realize it's been "long time" but my tootsies aren't that bad, really. The way she was going at my feet, though, was like she wanted revenge or something.
Looking back, I guess it's all laughable now, and it reminded me of this video...