Friday, December 24, 2010

Don't Make Me Hurt You!

Why do you think  you pick up that pay check every two weeks?
Yesterday I once again headed into the craziness of the stores. The husband mentioned something he would like to have for Christmas and since he rarely has a wish, I was relieved to hear him have a request. I was off to Office Depot.

It appears that Limewire has been closed down. Copyright infringements and downloading music from them is now something discussed in the category of "remember when". This is no admission of ever having used Limeware. It's just a statement of fact since using Limeware is and now in the past tense, was a highly illegal practice. We clear on that?  Moving on.

The collection of albums stacked flat and towering to chest height inhabits a corner of the coat closet. The husband is now looking at them as an alternative route to acquire music for his MP3 collection. The problem is, they are LP's and vinyl and would have to be converted. 

My reason for visiting Office Depot was to purchase a new item on the market that will convert the music on those LP's to MP3's for his IPod. I headed for the tech department. A large square box like sign hanging from the ceiling clearly designates the tech area and I was headed direct to that area. The first person I encountered wore a name badge with his position as "tech" noted right there clear as day and it's at that point that all clarity took a nose dive.

I requested a "Profile LP" and explained to him it's function. His reply "Oh, we don't have that." and just before he turned away and I fought the urge to snatch him up by his shirt collar, I said to him. "My husband says you have it and my husband knows what you have in this store". 

He actually sighs. I'm still maintaining some bit of restraint and control. I wanted to remind him that this was what he was paid to do; I wasn't asking him for a pedicure,  to babysit or clean my car. I followed him to the program section and he announced again "We don't have it."
I walked to where he stood and scanned the shelf. Eventually I spied a Roxio with a mention of LP to MP3 on it and this item was about the size of a cigar box. 
What? The husband plans on unpacking his old turntable and amp and setting it all back up to do this LP to MP3 conversion? I was imagining rearranging furniture to accommodate this new venture. 

I grabbed the Roxio thing and then decided to wander around the store looking at all the accessories that tempt. I rounded an aisle and looked at the end cap. Right there, stacked high was a box that was the size of a turntable with a turntable picture on it. I stopped. In large black print, it screamed "PROFILE LP". 
I looked at the cigar size box in my hand and realized that what I almost left the store with was not what I had asked the Tech to find for me. 

I took the time to find that tech and show him the difference and I did ask "You don't know what products are in your department?" He shrugged his shoulders and walked off. To my credit, once again, I didn't snatch him up by his collar and remind him  of the reason he collected a paycheck. The second time  required more self control on my part. It was time to get away. 
This is not the first encounter with sales staff with an attitude. 
It's sad to say, but I am so old I remember when sales staff would smile and greet and offer to help. If I were looking for an overpriced car sold by hungry commissioned sales staff, or a sofa that is manufactured in a foreign land in cheap fabric and construction and sold at the old prices of USA manufactured, I would have had better service.

I drove through the drive through window of Burger King and requested a cup of coffee. "We're out" she said. Out? How are you out of coffee? Do you mean you don't want to brew a pot?
I drove on. The next stop was McDonalds and the drive  through window again. I paid for that coffee and when I arrived at the window, they requested I park and they would bring me the coffee. 10 minutes later, I'm sitting in the parking lot chatting on my cell with a friend to kill time when I realized somebody must have forgot me. At this point I was ready to not be a customer for anything or anybody today.
Once more, I circled the McDonalds, by passing the speaker, and the collection window and on to the pickup window.
At least they apologised. I collected my coffee, took what was left of my sanity, thanked the higher powers that be that I hadn't committed a violent crime against any sales staff and retreated to the safety of my home.
I have to go out again.  I've been weeping about this for hours. (I lie a little).
 I'll try to avoid any interaction with anyone wearing a name badge and affiliated with the store I'm visiting. I'm not the only one that notices this attitude.
It's Christmas. Soon the holidays will be past and we can all get back to some semblance of what to each one of us denotes normal. I'm waiting.

1 comment:

  1. Service with a smile...the customer is always right...oh I can remember those days...just! Although I hasten to add that it's a lot different here than it is in England and clearly in the US too. The Turks still know about customer service.


Comments are moderated to prevent spam posters. Leave a comment! It's nice to know you visited!