Wednesday, June 13, 2012

I am not dead yet...

Holy absence, Batman.  Yes, I realize I haven't posted since freaking JANUARY.  But full-time work + crazy idea to go to grad school in my "spare time" kind of monopolizes my attention...   Anywho, I am still alive, and I am going to try (try =/= promise) to do a bit more posting here.  So the topic of today is... drum roll please...customer service.

Tonight, I went to an eating establishment that serves primarily pasta dishes in a fast-food manner (I'll let you come to your own conclusions regarding what that establishment is).  I ordered a lovely pesto dish with grilled chicken on top (to-go).  I was handed my much-anticipated dinner in a brown paper bag, but something -- call it a sixth sense -- told me to double check my bag to ensure that the establishment's fine staff properly fulfilled my order.  Much to my chagrin, as I opened the nice warm bag and peeked inside, my dinner was sadly poultry free.

Not to be foiled by the lack of fowl in my pasta, I marched back up to the counter with the intention of politely pointing out the mistake and asking for my damn chicken.  So there I stood.  And waited.  And waited.  And WAITED.  NO ONE behind that counter was willing to make eye-contact with me.  Even the malnourished 16 year old Bieber-haircut ignored my scathing gaze as he walked right past me.  Not any acknowledgment from anyone of my presence.  Really??  

FINALLY, the girl who took my initial order (not 5 minutes earlier) deigned to look at me and inquire about my prolonged presence.  "This was supposed to have chicken", I said.  And with a completely blank stare she asks, "grilled or crusted?".  YOU TOOK MY ORDER 5 MINUTES AGO.  This isn't rocket science.  Sigh.  I don't expect the fast-food staff to quote Chaucer or vomit out physics equations, but you can't remember my chicken??  Sigh.  I weep for the future.

Perhaps I am being too hard on these employees.  Perhaps I know nothing of the rigors of the restaurant biz.  But what really grinds my gears is the intentional and calculated ignorance of my presence as a customer that requires someone's prompt attention.  People make mistakes.  I get that, but DON'T IGNORE ME.  No one puts Megan in a corner. Or at least standing like an idiot next to the noodle counter.  Next time I'll take the bottles of Siracha and start squirting the employees who ignore me.  This will only burn for a second...

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