The cashier, a defiant and resentful little girl who clearly had not had the benefit of an education or being taught any kind of manners, chewed her gum open mouthed and loudly and glared at me. One scrawny hand, balled into a tight fist, was on her slung out hip and her dull eyes were stubbornly cold and lifeless.
It ain't there, she repeated when I gave her my customer number for the second time.
Yes, I said, equally cold, it is. Maybe you didn't hear me over your gum.
This earned me what I had no doubt she considered a withering look, followed by a sneer, but lately I've noticed a decided lack of patience with what passes for "customer service" and it takes more than a nasty look from an illiterate and bad tempered clerk to wither me.
Would you rather we take this up with the store manager? I asked and gave her an effortless and completely insincere smile. As I see it, you can swallow your gum and put the number in correctly or.....not. Her over painted nasty little mouth opened in surprise and I thought for a moment she was going to bare her lipstick stained teeth at me - instead she viciously punched in numbers on the keyboard and rather than tell me the total, gave the swivel monitor a rude shove so that it faced me. I casually and deliberately wrote out a check and slipped it toward her. Not another word was exchanged.
I'm of an age where I don't feel I have to be passive about abuse or rudeness or stupidity any longer - there's altogether too much of it in the world and after 64 years, I feel entitled to stand up to it. Race may excuse a lack of education - youth may explain laziness and sullenness and an unwillingness to work - cheap labor may too tempting to pass up and good help impossible to find. But fair warning... I've pretty much used up all my tact, patience, tolerance and sunny nature. Push me and I'll push back.
Save your sorry excuses for "customer service" for your own kind.
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