"Service" Spelled with an F U

Let's rant, shall we? The topic: customer service. Or the lack thereof. In 24-hours I moved from bemused to pissed off thanks to two separate service fiascos.

Incident #1: The Acme Cashier

I was already irritated by the elderly. I say that with utmost respect for those who consider themselves to be in that category, though I'm relatively certain no one I would classify as elderly is reading my blog (mom and dad, you're old, but not elderly - insert winky, smiley face here). Anyway, I was irritated because slow, confused women with clown makeup and crazy hair were wandering around the aisles at Acme at 5 p.m., making it difficult for us young and busy professionals to do what we came to do. Why do they need to go to the grocery store between 4-6 p.m.? Shouldn't they be eating an early bird meal at their favorite diner?

This is not related to my service complaint, however, as I write, I believe I may have stumbled onto a brilliant service concept. Much like the "adult swim" at the pool, perhaps there should be separate hours for shopping based on age group. Those 25-54 can shop between 7-9 a.m and 4-6 p.m.; those 75-plus and moms with infants are given a big chunk of time between 10 a.m.-2 p.m.; and teens can come by after school, 2:30-4:00 p.m. and at stupidly late hours when they're in need of cheese curls. There should probably be a similar schedule at the health club.

But I digress.

My main Acme complaint was with Louis, my couldn't-be-happier-to-have-this-job cashier. I don't know if I set him off by letting him know I didn't mind bagging my own groceries--perhaps he took it as a personal affront, like I didn't think he'd do it right--but the dude literally threw my groceries. Not at me, thank goodness, but onto the grocery collection area. This was fairly amusing until he came to my bananas and apples, and then the bread. Apparently no one told him that fruit bruises when tossed, and that bread can be bent out of shape, much like his increasingly grumpy customer.

Incident #2: The Jiffy Lube Guys

In my never-ending quest to save money, I drove out of my way to Jiffy Lube for an oil change and state inspection. I had a coupon (turns out I had a coupon for Midas, which made this incident even more irritating).

When I went to pick up my vehicle, the guys at the counter decided to mess with me. "That's $249.00." Seriously? "Nah, just messing with you. It's actually $____." (I'm not going to tell you how much I paid because I don't need my dad or anyone else tell me I was ripped off.) Of course, now I'm wondering if what I paid was the real price because nowhere in the place were the service prices listed. Still, I smiled gamely at his delightful sense of humor. Then I got into my soccer mom minivan and prepared to drive off. Until I noticed the pond.

A nearly full travel mug of tea that I had left in my cup holder had spilled in that handy little tray/console area between the front seats. Crumbs, bits of paper, and my parking pass were floating in a half-inch of liquid; the empty cup holders also were filled. And I was pissed. I returned to the shop and asked for towels to clean the mess. Did I let them know it was their spill and that I was displeased? No. They were bigger than me, had already intimidated me at the register, and I'm not good with confrontation. I sopped up what I could and drove away.

About a half-mile down the road I stopped at Philly Pretzel Factory to address my constant carb craving, but before I could even get out of the car, I had to write. An angry Yelp review was burning a hole inside of me. I had to let it out. I deal with my problems much better in writing:

"Just had my car inspected and oil changed at this Jiffy Lube location. I'm uncomfortable with what I paid because there were no posted prices for their services, which is what I find at Midas where I normally go. I went to Jiffy Lube because I had a coupon. Probably a big mistake. Most disappointing, when I got into my car I saw that an entire travel mug of tea that I had left in a cup holder had spilled in my center console and nobody bothered to clean it up before giving me my car back. Something so simple that would've made such a big difference in how I feel about my service. Because their service requires them to vacuum the floors, they did that, but since it didn't say anywhere that they should clean up when they spill something in a customer's car, they just left it. Classic lazy customer service. I won't be back."

After letting out my frustration and picking up my pretzel--which was cold and kinda hard and itself worthy of complaint--I headed home. And then it occurred to me. The son-of-a-bitch hadn't returned my insurance card and registration. And freakin' Jiffy Lube is on Baltimore Pike, the busiest damn retail road in Delaware County. And I hate running "errands" more than going to the dentist. And it was almost 5 p.m. and traffic was already brutal. I contemplated asking them to mail me my stuff, but wondered what the odds were that it would ever reach me.

I called and the assistant manager answered the phone--not the same guy who totally made up the price of my oil change and inspection. I told him they forgot my paperwork. He informed me it was on my passenger seat. Ah yes. Indeed. I figured this was an opportunity to share my thoughts about spilled tea. He apologized, wasn't aware of it, will tell the big scary guy who worked on my vehicle. Awesome. Originally I had posted my Yelp review with my photo; I took that down. I don't want him to find me. There are risks associated with speaking ones mind.

These delightful experiences are ripe for political commentary, which as a rule I stay away from because I'm generally in enemy territory with my views. But I do find myself thinking about personal responsibility and its role in the lives we live. If you hate working as a grocery store cashier, what could you do about it instead of taking it out on your customers, and ultimately, your employer? And I wonder about the debate over minimum wage. If the cashier and the Jiffy Lube guys were paid more, would they care more? Or would they be paid more to deliver the same shitty service? Tough subjects, indeed. Perhaps Ian, as an economist in training, but with a servant's heart, will one day help solve these problems plaguing our increasingly polarized country.

Wow. This post took a turn, didn't it? Sorry to end on such a heavy note. To make it up to you, here's a picture of a kitten. Make it a good day!

Everyone You Meet

A few months ago, my friend Mindy wrote this heartfelt reflection after the tragic loss of 13-year-old Caynam Naib. I asked her permission to post it on my blog, but never got around to it. As I find myself distracted, downhearted and a bit blue these days, I thought it might be a good time to share Mindy's piece. Perhaps you'll be kind if I happen to be that "person in the middle of the aisle."

Everyone You Meet
by Melinda Ann Madore Davis

“Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a battle you know nothing about." Wendy Mass, The Candymakers

Who will you “meet” today? I don’t mean in the sit down and exchange names sense. I mean who will you come across as you go about your day? Certainly, you will interact with those who are an everyday part of your life— family, coworkers, perhaps one of those “frequently occurring characters” like the particularly friendly Starbucks clerk, who has made it a point to remember your name. However, every day, each of us shares space with innumerable others, even if only ever so slightly: those ahead of us in line at the sandwich shop, those who are driving the same route as we head to work, those who are in the grocery store at the same time that we are.

This makes me think about Cayman’s mom. Most of us know of her, but we do not know her. Here is a mother who is suffering, who is grieving, and who continues to care for her family. Who does she meet when she is in the grocery store? You may not meet Cayman’s mom, but you've met that person in the middle of the aisle who seems to be in another world, not noticing that you are trying to get by. Now what if, instead of becoming irritated we remembered the above quote? How would we choose to act/react/respond? What if it were Cayman’s mom? Maybe this “someone” is seemingly in another world because they lost their job this week or because they have learned of a devastating diagnosis in their family. What if, no matter what, we chose to approach these “ordinary” situations with a different mindset? What kind of difference could this make to the tone of our world? I see this as a divine opportunity, a chance to extend a gracious attitude toward someone who is technically a “stranger,” but who shares my world, if only for a minute.

Most of us will not found a philanthropic organization. Not all of us will contribute great wealth to a worthwhile cause. We might not be able to travel to a distant place to share our time, resources and skills with others who are in need. But while all of these are important, isn't it encouraging to realize that we don’t have to do big things with money or specialized skills to make an important contribution to our world?
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All of us end up in the grocery store. All of us can choose to be kind, patient, gracious. And, in this way, all of us can make a difference. The next time you are in the grocery store, think about Cayman’s mom. Think about her as “everyone you meet”—“for everyone you meet is fighting a battle you know nothing about.”

Who is Cayman’s Mom? Cayman’s mom is Rebecca Malcolm-Naib. Her dear son, Cayman Naib, 13, of Newtown Square, PA tragically died near his home on March 4, 2015.

Food for Thought

We all know I can be a little too sensitive; a bit too concerned about what people think. This past weekend I realized it's starting to affect me at the grocery store. Does anyone else feel like a terrible person, particularly a terrible mom, when putting their items on the belt at checkout? Here's a sampling of my recent purchases:

1. Three boxes of sugary cereal
2. Two boxes of highly processed granola bars and Nutrigrain bars
3. Two boxes of Cheez-Its (BOGO sale)
4. Packaged beef roast with gravy (must be all-natural; it stays good in the fridge till May 3)
5. High sodium Campbells' Chicken Noodle Soup
6. Hot dogs (also all natural)
7. White bread
8. Genuardi's chocolate chip cookies (only because they were on sale)
9. Uncrustables with peanut butter and grape jelly on white bread
10. Benefiber chewables 

I don't know about you, but I definitely judge people make assumptions about someone based on what I see in their cart:

The college student:

• Ramen noodles
• Mac n cheese
• Energy drinks

The single guy:

• Protein bars
• Beer (in cool states where they sell beer at the grocery store)
• Microwave dinners

The "crunchy" mom (when not growing or raising their own food...)

• Organic fruits and vegetables
• Organic cereal
• Gluten-free snacks
• Free range chicken
• No red meat within 500 feet

The senior citizen:

• Single-serving meals
• Ice cream
• Coffee
• Bananas

The healthy exercise nut person:

• Vitamin water
• Vegetables
• Whole wheat pasta
• Fat-free yogurt
• Playtex Sport tampons

Yes, I can just imagine what crunchy mom and healthy exercise nut think of my selections.

Obviously there is a solution to this problem.

Supermarkets should designate lanes according to your shopping classification:

1. Single guys and college students
2. Senior citizens (they need their own lane because of speed, or lack thereof,  moreso than food selection. Mom and dad, this doesn't apply to you.)
3. Healthy people 
4. Moms like me

With everyone in their own lane, no one has to be uncomfortable. I think it's the best idea for grocery stores since they introduced those little carts with videos for the kids! And really, it's a much easier fix for my problem then, let's say, making healthier choices.

And for the record, it has occurred to me that I probably wouldn't need the processed fiber tablets if the only thing healthy in my cart wasn't the smallest head of broccoli I could find.