Today's blog doesn't really have anything to do with me really receiving bad service, but there is an issue that has been brewing with me for some time now.
Why is it that you can go to some of the FINEST restaurants in Houston any day of the week. Get a table for 1, 2 or 20. Order a crapload of wine, drinks and food. Hang out for hours. Then...have to chase down your waiter or waitress to get your check. Then, if you are with my friends, present said waiter with about 12 different credit cards to pay the tab.
However, wen you walk into your favorite little pub or drinkery nowadays, the first thing out the waiter or waitresses mouth is You Wanna Start A Tab?
From this point on, I will be adding to this blog the bar name and the server names as I encounter this frustrating experience.
9/12/09 -- Porch Swing Pub, Christy
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Marshall's, Cheap prices for a reason.
July 2009
Doris immediately greeted me with the sounds of “what were you thinking”? Her stoic “How May I Help You” wreeked more of “I have no intention of helping you in any way, but they pay me to say that…and I’m on camera”.
I was pretty happy as I entered the Marshal’s store in Northline Mall. I was in a good mood, had my receipt in hand, along with my brand new suitcase that had only been on one trip.
The Problem: The outer zipper that allows you to expand the suitcase had run off it’s track. After several attempts to fix the zipper myself, I determined that it was defective.
The Story: As quickly as Doris forced me to enter the cheese maze that led me to an area marked “wait here”, I quickly realized that this was not going to be a good Marshal’s experience. As I waited in that line alone, I bore witness to Doris providing non-impressive customer service to a peer of mine. Unfortunately, that customer was too busy on her cell phone to give notice to the horrible set of skills that Doris was slinging around with wreckless abandon. But that’s another story for another book.
After hearing the friendly recorded voice say “next customer” I shrugged and considered calling the whole thing off right there. But, I’m a risk taker so I squeamishly approached Doris’s register #2.
As I timidly began to tell Doris my plight, as if I was telling my mother that I broke her favorite vase, Doris must have smelled blood in the water, because she immediately shook her head and launched into what can only be described as a classic “Cashier vs Customer” beat down. She must have said no 10 times, when I didn’t even get the question out of my mouth.
No, you bought this suitcase several months ago!
No, there is a scar on the back side of this suitcase!
No, we can’t do anything for you! And so on.
And let me tell you, her ranting was not just aimed at me. She was so loud that I’m certain that the lady getting “customer serviced” in shoes, heard the whole thing too.
As I tried to get clarity on what exactly was the Marshal’s Return policy, Doris quickly did what I can only label the “Okie Doke”. She was quickly on the phone, asking that the store manager make an appearance. As Joyce quickly appeared behind the counter, ready to put the final nail in my customer service dream, Doris immediately set the stage by repeating proudly her stance.
As Joyce leaned over the counter and looked me in the eye, she quickly impressed me with her half-hearted empathy, while she quickly stated her opinion on the matter, and abruptly offered me the phone number for the “District Office”.
In less than 12 minutes, I was quickly convinced that the faulty suitcase was my fault and problem. That my self perceived smarts around keeping my receipts for all large purchases and my overall giddiness for thinking that I would walk out of that store with my dignity, a new suitcase and a strong belief that normal folks, if given the chance to do the right thing…they will.
Alternate Ending: First of all, both Doris and Joyce should have listened to my need first. Then they should have pointed out the keys to their return policy. After which, knowing that they could not, er would not exchange the suitcase, they should have made some sort of concession. Maybe offer me 20% off of my next purchase or a free bath towel or something.
To simply send me walking, with a broken product and bad taste in my mouth, they chose to lose a customer forever, vs doing the right thing. All over a $100 purchase. Good thing this recession is almost over.
Doris immediately greeted me with the sounds of “what were you thinking”? Her stoic “How May I Help You” wreeked more of “I have no intention of helping you in any way, but they pay me to say that…and I’m on camera”.
I was pretty happy as I entered the Marshal’s store in Northline Mall. I was in a good mood, had my receipt in hand, along with my brand new suitcase that had only been on one trip.
The Problem: The outer zipper that allows you to expand the suitcase had run off it’s track. After several attempts to fix the zipper myself, I determined that it was defective.
The Story: As quickly as Doris forced me to enter the cheese maze that led me to an area marked “wait here”, I quickly realized that this was not going to be a good Marshal’s experience. As I waited in that line alone, I bore witness to Doris providing non-impressive customer service to a peer of mine. Unfortunately, that customer was too busy on her cell phone to give notice to the horrible set of skills that Doris was slinging around with wreckless abandon. But that’s another story for another book.
After hearing the friendly recorded voice say “next customer” I shrugged and considered calling the whole thing off right there. But, I’m a risk taker so I squeamishly approached Doris’s register #2.
As I timidly began to tell Doris my plight, as if I was telling my mother that I broke her favorite vase, Doris must have smelled blood in the water, because she immediately shook her head and launched into what can only be described as a classic “Cashier vs Customer” beat down. She must have said no 10 times, when I didn’t even get the question out of my mouth.
No, you bought this suitcase several months ago!
No, there is a scar on the back side of this suitcase!
No, we can’t do anything for you! And so on.
And let me tell you, her ranting was not just aimed at me. She was so loud that I’m certain that the lady getting “customer serviced” in shoes, heard the whole thing too.
As I tried to get clarity on what exactly was the Marshal’s Return policy, Doris quickly did what I can only label the “Okie Doke”. She was quickly on the phone, asking that the store manager make an appearance. As Joyce quickly appeared behind the counter, ready to put the final nail in my customer service dream, Doris immediately set the stage by repeating proudly her stance.
As Joyce leaned over the counter and looked me in the eye, she quickly impressed me with her half-hearted empathy, while she quickly stated her opinion on the matter, and abruptly offered me the phone number for the “District Office”.
In less than 12 minutes, I was quickly convinced that the faulty suitcase was my fault and problem. That my self perceived smarts around keeping my receipts for all large purchases and my overall giddiness for thinking that I would walk out of that store with my dignity, a new suitcase and a strong belief that normal folks, if given the chance to do the right thing…they will.
Alternate Ending: First of all, both Doris and Joyce should have listened to my need first. Then they should have pointed out the keys to their return policy. After which, knowing that they could not, er would not exchange the suitcase, they should have made some sort of concession. Maybe offer me 20% off of my next purchase or a free bath towel or something.
To simply send me walking, with a broken product and bad taste in my mouth, they chose to lose a customer forever, vs doing the right thing. All over a $100 purchase. Good thing this recession is almost over.
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Jalapeno's on the side, what was I thinking?
Went to eat lunch today at the Hubcap Grill located near the courthouse in downtown Houston.
Cool little place with a few tables and a pull up bar along the wall.
Proceeded to order a burger from the un-assuming cashier guy. Ordered a simple cheeseburger...then asked if I could get some jalapenos on the side. He quietly asked if I wanted a Jalapeno Cheeseburger, to which I replied I would like them on the side. He quickly said that they put them on the burger. I said I would really like to have them on the side. He said again...without intonation, "we put them ON the burger".
Exhausted with the situation, I simply agreed to take the Jalapeno Cheeseburger the way that they make it, versus the way that I wanted it. (A cheeseburger with Jalapenos on the side)
Who the hell do I think I am...the Customer or something. To add insult to injury, I went ahead and ordered the $2 fries to go with it.
I think I have just been CUSTOMER SERVICED!
Cool little place with a few tables and a pull up bar along the wall.
Proceeded to order a burger from the un-assuming cashier guy. Ordered a simple cheeseburger...then asked if I could get some jalapenos on the side. He quietly asked if I wanted a Jalapeno Cheeseburger, to which I replied I would like them on the side. He quickly said that they put them on the burger. I said I would really like to have them on the side. He said again...without intonation, "we put them ON the burger".
Exhausted with the situation, I simply agreed to take the Jalapeno Cheeseburger the way that they make it, versus the way that I wanted it. (A cheeseburger with Jalapenos on the side)
Who the hell do I think I am...the Customer or something. To add insult to injury, I went ahead and ordered the $2 fries to go with it.
I think I have just been CUSTOMER SERVICED!
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