Letters from North
America
You
might recall a skit from
the old Monty Python
television show a few
years ago. In this one a
guy walks into a
specialty cheese shop
and asks for a certain
kind of cheese. The
clerk tells him they
don’t have that kind. In
the next ten minutes or
so, the customer asks
about a variety of
cheeses only to be told
they didn’t have any of
those in stock. Finally
in exasperation, the
customer asks what kind
of cheese do they have,
only to be told
something like….
cheddar.
Pending the two upcoming
surgeries I have this
month, my BB has been a
little higher than
normal. I have just
about run out of
patience and have not
been the best person I
could have been in a
couple of incidents.
One example is the tires
I try to buy at a local
retail store. Now if I
were to tell you the
name of this store you’d
recognize it in a
instant, it’s been
around for a long time,
but I’ll skip that part.
Anyway, this store had
tires on sale. I drive
over, go inside, act
politely, and tell one
of the attendants that I
need four tires. She
asks if they are for my
car and I’m tempted to
say… “Nope, they’re for
that red truck out
there…looks like they
could use some new
tires….I guess they’re
inside the mall
shopping…this will be a
big surprise…”
I bite my tongue and
tell her that yes, they
are for my car. She asks
what kind are they and I
tell her … “They’re
black and round…” but
that fails to amuse her
or garner a smile, so
she grabs a pad and
walks out to my car to
see what size I needed.
I suppose this comment
may have caused the
following to occur. Once
she enters the size
information into the
computer she starts
doing that thing you see
the airline people do
when you are standing in
front of them trying to
check your luggage and
get your boarding pass.
We’ve all been there,
you walk up to the
ticket counter and hand
the airline person your
itinerary and she types
in some numbers and
looks at her screen,
then scrunches up her
face and gives out a
couple of… ‘Well, well,
well….what have we
here?’ type of
questions. Then she
makes some sort of
clucking noises and
says… “ Oh, that’s not
good…”. All the time
you’re standing there,
luggage in hand just
thinking about going to
the bathroom and getting
a cup of coffee when you
get to the gate. After
several agonizing
minutes you hear the
printer grinding out
your boarding passes,
she smiles sweetly,
hands them to you and
wishes you a good day.
You feel as though you
were just released from
the gulag in Siberia. In
all probability she was
most likely to have been
reading an e-mail from
her brother about his
car wreck and nothing on
her computer screen had
anything to do with you.
Well, here I am in front
of Helga, the tire clerk
who looks like she could
have been a tail gunner
on a beer truck in
Milwaukee and she starts
making the same kind of
noises….. “Oh my, my,
my, my……” she says.
I’m thinking perhaps she
is reading the news and
we are at war with
someone, anyone. But it
turns out that she is
just looking at the
inventory and she turns
the screen around to
show me that they have
no tires in stock that
will fit my car. None
whatsoever, not of any
brand or at any cost.
Trying once again to be
nice…..I tell her the
sign in the window and
the ad in the newspaper
says they have tires on
sale…..isn’t this
correct?
She looks at me with a
vacant stare and says …
“Yes, that’s correct.”
Here I do something
stupid and apply logic
to the conversation….
“Well, if you have a
sale…shouldn’t you
have some of the things
you are trying to sell
so people can buy them?”
She quickly spins the
computer screen back
around and tells me they
can order these and they
should be in… in about
four or five days. I
tell her that my wife is
outside in her car
waiting to take me home
and I don’t want to
leave my car here until
you get the tires.
She just looks at me and
says… “Well, there isn’t
anything I can do for
you” and walks off.
What happened to the old
motto of the customer is
always right?
Perhaps it’s my charming
personality…who knows?
