When I was a young girl and even well into my teens, my Dad was stupid. He never let me do anything I wanted to do, like pierce my nose or date that really cool guy who was already legal drinking age when I was barely in high school. And he had totally old-fashioned beliefs like the customer is always right and tip your waitress before you leave the restaurant.
So I’ve basically spent the last few years realizing that Dad just might be the smartest man on earth.
Oh, not everyone agrees. Lately, I have had people tell me that the customer isn’t right. In fact, some people apparently believe the customer (that would be me) is clearly an inferior twit destined to live her life on some island where they don’t allow people without brains (again, that would be me) to be actual customers.
It’s like this. I call to order a pizza. Now, even a brainless twit like me should be able to do this, but turns out it’s a challenge for me. When I go to pick up my pizza, I am given two pizzas. Both large. There are two adults, one medium child, a small dog and a lizard in my family. The lizard would not touch pizza unless it was covered in crickets, and the dog will throw up continuously if she eats it. And the medium child only eats the cheese off the pizza anyway, so he doesn’t count. Anyway, I tell the man at the counter that I only ordered one pizza.
And he disagrees with me.
So I explain that I only have three pizza eaters in my family and that we cannot possibly eat two large pizzas. In fact, we can’t even eat one large, but we like to have leftovers. The man’s reply? They made the pizzas, so I must have ordered them. And now the pizza place would like me to pay for the pizza I didn’t order, which the man informs me is “only $5.99 anyway.” Unfortunately, I don’t see why I have to pay for a pizza I didn’t order, whether it’s $5.99 or $25.99.
And when I say that – in as nice a voice as possible – the man sighs. Clearly he is dealing with a person who belongs on the island of lost customers. He takes away the extra pizza and then begins to slowly tell me how to reheat my pizza since it has gotten cold while we were discussing the fact that I did not order the second pizza.
If that isn’t bad enough, it’s not just pizza joints that have me frustrated. It’s the retail stores, too. Look, I’m not your ordinary shopper. If they offered black belts in shopping, I’d have one – actually I’d have several because everyone knows you need more than one black belt. And I’d have a brown one and possibly even a cute white one with a couple of rhinestones on it. The point is, I shop. It’s more than a hobby. It’s my sport, and I do it very well.
In the past two weeks, however, I have visited two different retailers and been charged the wrong price for some items I purchased. In each case, I told the cashier that the wrong price was charged. Remember, I’m a professional, and I have a budget, so I know my prices. But in each case, the cashier looked at me, shrugged and told me they couldn’t do anything about it. In fact, they completed the transaction, and told me that if I wanted the right price I needed to go wait in yet another line at the customer service area.
Are you kidding me? I have to go to another part of the store, wait in line AGAIN and then I get my money back when I didn’t even make the mistake? How is that customer service? Look, I know it’s the computer’s fault, not the cashier’s. But is it that difficult to allow the cashier to give me back the difference in price without making me wait in another line?
Apparently, it is. And apparently, my dad and I are one of the few remaining holdouts from an era where the customer is always right. Thanks, Dad. And about that nose piercing thing – thanks for saying “no.” You were right. Once I became a mom, I would really have
regretted having a ring-shaped booger hanging out of my nose.
