Do I think my own schedule is more important than anyone else'? Obviously.
No. Scratch that. I do however think that people should generally respect others' schedules. I feel I can make a considerable contribution to the (made-up) study of Serviceology, having worked in jobs that require me to hike my voice up several octaves to a level saccharinely offensive to all living beings excluding the canine variety and render my face wrought with (faux-)smile lines.
Wednesday Afternoon
During my lunch break, I went to Cosi to grab a salad. The lines for food during midday times on weekdays in midtown east are an exercise in starvation. I waited to order my Bombay Chicken Salad, ironically sans chicken, for fifteen minutes.
10 more minutes on a separate line to pay... broken computer system... angry asshole manager yelling at register-employees... me eating through the entire slab of bread which is supposed to accompany my salad... "we just opened the front register; you can go there." 10 more minutes in this line. Right before I pay, the women at the register LEAVES. I was going to walk out with a free salad. Sadly, I needed to get a fork and they hold them hostage behind the register.
Next journey: dropping off my father's prescriptions at Duane Reade. Lovely girl helped me. Asked if I'd like to wait for it for 20 minutes to which I responded that I had to run back to work but would pick it up at 4:15 on my way from work to class. (... you can see where this is headed.)
Wednesday Evening
RUNNING from my office to class is hard enough during rush hour. And of course the prescription was not ready. But they didn't simply TELL me this. They disappeared into the back for ten minutes. And I had to send another person back there. She spoke with the original Inconsiderate Pharmacist, and then on her way back, stopped to check for another person's prescription before telling me that it wasn't ready. Sure. Take your time, lady.
"What time do you close?" asked I.
"7."
Rushing through my one-credit Astronomy winter-session lab, I ran huffing and puffing in stilettos from 41st and Lexington to 43rd and 3rd.
6:58 P.M.
"What time do you close?"
"7:30."
... And then I blew up a Duane Reade.
Thursday Morning
Dunkin Donuts man ignores me and continues texting on his cell phone. Looks up at me. Then cleans off a coffee machine. Then gives me an attitude when I order something. Soorrrrryyyy for bothering you while you're getting paid.
Thursday Evening
Bookstore to pick up stupid Astronomy lab book. Guy ignores me for so long that after saying "Excuse me?" several times, I end up having to hit the BELL to get his attention. Was I at a hotel concierge desk in the 1980s?
Friday Morning
At this point, I was already brewing from social interactions of this variety. I decided to treat myself to a Frappuccino Lite. My request was met by "Ah... we OUT of 'Lite' today."
And then a little angel dressed in a green Starbucks smock (the Official Away Uniform of Team Heaven) appeared from a cloud made of real fairy dust and offered to look in the back.
Ta-da! The first time someone goes out of her way to do her job, customer satisfaction (and in this case, restoration of faith in the merits serviceology) is achieved.
And then I tried a sampling of a new lemon/cherry/cake extravaganza, which complemented my Frappuccino Lite beautifully.
Parable: Wait. There is none. This is just me being cranky.
Also currently cranky about: "Doughnuts" being spelled "Donuts" and "Light" being spelled "Lite," and the fact that their having been "published" as such compels me to reproduce them in their stupid forms.
-moon
1.04.2008
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Do you imagine that people working at Dunkin' Donuts (I LIKE that spelling!) have elected to work there as an alternative to something far more glamorous? You too might be a bit cranky, lazy or indifferent if you spent your day hawking crullers (or, my favorite: chocolate frosted, with sprinkles).
ReplyDeleteAs for the pharmacists- are you, perhaps, mistaking a pharmacy technician for an actual pharmacist? Unless you go to an old-fashioned "mom & pop" pharmacy, you're not likely to have much interaction with an actual pharmacist, unless you specifically request an "audience"; which brings us back to the previous question: do you imagine someone has chosen to dole out hemorrhoid medication to cranky New Yorkers as an alternative to something more glamorous?
"hmmmm, I could either be Brad Pitt & Angelina Jolie's personal shopper OR sell Bombay Chicken Salads. Which should I choose?"
Jenn, we're all in a rush. There is a sign at the New York County Clerk's office which reads "POOR PLANNING ON YOUR PART DOES NOT EQUAL AN AUTOMATIC EMERGENCY ON MY PART"
Cut the "workin' folk" some slack. They're working.
(P.S. - I do abhorr poor/inconsiderate service too. Just felt you were being a bit hyper-critical) ;D
Moon- Stilettos are very snazzy, but not for running. I am impressed that you can run in them and have not yet broken an ankle. Winning the 100-yard stiletto dash would be an athletic event worthy of praise, that's for sure.
ReplyDeleteWhenever I'm on the subway in NYC at commuter times I ALWAYS see lots of women wearing sneaks and carrying their heels in bags. You can also carry a spare fork in the same bag, just in case you find yourself in posession of another unaccounted for salad.