Tuesday, May 23, 2006

the past few days

I had two frustrating experiences with customer service yesterday that really made me wish I ran the world and could punish those who dare to anger me.
I really don't expect a lot when it comes to customer service. I don't expect a smile, I don't even particularly expect friendliness. After all, I worked at Starbucks for two years and it's a miracle no one ever ended up dead. I just want you to look me in the eye, I want to be the focus of your attention for the entire transaction, and I expect some sort of level of professionalism. Don't cuss, don't answer the phone or have a silly chit-chat with a coworker while you're helping me, and don't call me "dawg."

I went into the Sunglass Hut in the Pavilions over lunch to get some shades for my trip. There were two guys "working." Actually, in their defense, they weren't total slackers. They had made an attempt to dress somewhat nicely. But they were involved in some sort of private conversation about a female coworker that I could more than clearly overhear. I got the distinct impression that the female coworker was a hootchie. They ignored me and when I asked if I could see a pair of glasses they told me the case was open and I could help myself, then went back to their conversation.
Oh – and they did another thing I hate: when male customer service workers treat me like I’m a frat brother instead of someone who's paying their salary. I don't want to be called "dude" or "bro" and I don't want you to tell me how much pussy the particular item I'm buying is going to get me. (When I bought my suit the guy told me girls would be chasing me down the street when I wore it – ugh! Do straight guys actually appreciate that kind of cheesy banter?) And other than maybe a handshake don't ever touch me. Ever.

I went to Men's Wearhouse in Cherry Creek after work and the main guy at the counter was acting like he had bleeding hemorrhoids and his favorite pet had just died. A guy was paying for something and his two sons were with him. The guy was letting his son sign the electronic box, and the kid was just having a little trouble and the worker practically had a stroke.
"IF YOU CAN'T SIGN YOUR NAME JUST SIGN A SMILEY FACE OR SOMETHING! JUST SIGN ANYTHING! DO SOMETHING! GAWD!"
Poor kid.
I wasn't in the mood to put up with his drama queen routine. I simply wanted to return a pink dress shirt because it was way too big and balloony on me.
He didn't even look at me as he said, "And what do you need…?" Then of course he tried everything possible to get me to not take a refund for the shirt. THEN he answered TWO phone calls while he was waiting on me.
He just acted like waiting on me was the most disgusting, demeaning thing he'd ever had to do.

So as I was walking out the door - about five feet from where he stood - I audibly said, "ASSHOLE."
And then I got to the private parking lot and realized that I hadn't gotten a parking token. So I had to turn around and go back in.
Awkward.

But ANYWAY – on to other topics. Despite my crazy cold/flu/whatever the fuck I had last week, my excruciating neck/back/arm pain, a mountain of proposals and other miscellaneous marketing bullshit, and a list of about 1,000 chores/errands to get done before my vacation, I've managed to survive and come out on top. The next 24 hours are still going to be busy and I'm going to have to be crazy-productive, but I can now see the light at the end of the tunnel. And that light has a warm, sunny beach and icy-cold drinks!

My weekend was fun and I was able to blow off some steam. I attended the IIDA Pret a Porter Fashion Show on Friday night after work. Design firms team with a vendor to create outrageous and gorgeous outfits, models work it on the runway, and everyone gets drunk. And I get to see some of my absolute favorite people in the industry. Of course, I had to look good too, so I bought a new shirt and new jeans and wore them with my new suit jacket.
I was hot – literally.
That was just too many layers for a packed event like that. I started sweating my ass off and had to lose the jacket.

Saturday night G. and I went shopping at Park Meadows and then to a going-away party at the Pourhouse Pub in LoDo. My shoulder had been screeching all day so I took a Vicodin. It made me feel MUCH better. Then I had a couple shots and a couple of beers. Eventually I was feeling no pain. Lovely.

Sunday afternoon I went to Field Day at Washington Park. Field Day is basically just an excuse for gay boys to get together and grill and drink insane amounts of beer and lie around on blankets and play volleyball and cruise the hot Wash Park joggers and such. I had a blast. It was like a warm-up to Pride Weekend, which is right around the corner!

I also shaved off the beard on Sunday night. Figured I'd be all clean and fresh for summer. But now I look like I'm about 12. It's weird how much of a difference facial hair can make in your appearance.

All right kids – I'm off to the Bahamas. Talk at ya'll when I get back!

3 Comments:

Blogger Big Daddy said...

How funny. I know exactly who you are talking about the Sunglass Hut. I was there two weeks ago and the shorter Middle Eastern looking one was doing the 'frat boy' thing, too.

There was a girl working too, so that may be the person in the story. Small world. But I agree, it kinda bugs me when a salesperson assumes I am straight and makes something like your chick comment.

You should post a pic of your new babyface, so we can compare.

Have fun on your trip!

2:42 PM  
Anonymous duane said...

hope you are having fun on your trip!

9:30 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Wow the world does not revolve around you. If the phone rings they probably have to answer it, its their job. Some prick like you is calling to ask some dumb question. You must have never had to work retail or in a resturant before. Maybe your a trust fund baby since you had time and money to waste on school that was useless in the real world. You make gay people look bad too by the way. You sound like the stero typical fag. I agree that it gets old when guys make the whole chick comment. But then again its kind of a complement since they might think you str8 and not some queen. Maybe he could have said something like hey they will hide your eyes so you can drool over all the guys you cant have. Your the asshole buying the pink shirt, next time try it on so you know how it fits. I bet you wore it the whole day and then wanted your refund. Some day karma will come around when you are old and being treated like ass by some young twink thats got what you never had.

10:38 PM  

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