Revision, and a StoryPosted: January 17, 2009
Yesterday, I finished writing up the Killer Module of Doom. This is a good thing because out of the 5 chapters, 3 made me want to cry, one was painfully boring and the last one (perhaps to give me some courage) turned out to be work that I did three years ago when I was taking Further Maths A-Level. Anyway, it’s done now, and before I start doing other things – I have many, many other write-ups to do, plus problems sheets – I thought I’d share a post I found via Diary of A Freak Magnet.
There’s a woman who writes a blog callled Snark Scribe, who has possibly the most bizarre, drama-filled life of anybody I’ve read about. And she retold a story of her cousin, who works in customer services.
A customer asked, “How much is that wine?”
When my cousin gave him the price, he said, “What? That’s too much.”
She said, “There’s a cheaper kind over there.”
The customer decided to take that as a personal insult. “Are you calling me cheap? You don’t think I can afford this wine or something?”
When she didn’t correct him, he yelled, “Look at you! You must be some kind of uneducated person to work such a degrading job!”
My cousin retorted, “Look at you! You look like you have venereal disease!”
This reminds me of life working for a Posh Department Store. But perhaps it shows the differences between English and American English.
We had a till that was positioned in front of a glass cabinet full of Champagne. One day, as I was serving, a customer came up to me and said, “now, be honest with me. Which do you think is better, the £20 bottle or the £30 bottle?”
“Madam,” I said, bemused, “to be honest with you, I work at [Posh Department Store]. I can’t afford to shop at [Posh Department Store], and I don’t buy Champagne, so I’m afraid I can’t give you an opinion.”
For some reason, she took this as an insult, and spent the next ten minutes harranguing first me, and then my supervisor.
The moral of this story is that customers are peculiar, no matter which country they’re in. And also, honesty really doesn’t pay. I should’ve just told her the cheaper bottle was better, and then we’d both have been happy.