The Sad State of Customer Service

Last week I dipped into one of the local big chain drug stores to buy some anti-itch lotion. I saw thousands of bottles of lotions, salves, ointments, conditioners, toxins, you name it, but not what I was looking for. I also couldn't find a single clerk to assist me (as loathe as I am to ask, being a guy and all, you know).

Finally, I spied some old guy (and for me to call somebody "old," assume he's ancient) in a red, buttonless vest rushing down the aisle.

"Sir?"

He ignored me on his mad rush down the aisle to inventory incontinent pills or whatever. So I raised my voice. "Sir? Excuse me, sir?"

His white head whips around and he glares angrily at me. "What?" he snaps. That's the first strike. How in the world is that any way to aid a customer?

"Um, do you carry Sarna ointment?"

He tilts his snowy head my way (the better to hear me with) and wrinkles up his already craggy brow in puzzlement.

"Sarna," I repeat. "You know, the anti-itching lotion?" Stupidly I'm standing in the aisle pantomiming that I'm itching. I figured this drug store clerk needed all the help he can get. And he's still just grimacing at me. So I slowly--and very loudly 'cause I thought he might have a hearing problem--spell it out for him. "Sarna! S.A.R.N.A!"

He gives me one of those dramatically (and disgustedly) cinematic slow head shakes. "I have NO idea," he snorts.

I'm thinking, um, would you mind finding out? But I really didn't want to disrupt his day any more than I clearly already had. "Okay, well, thanks--"

Then he jets off without a word before I even finished thanking him. I left the store empty-handed and hive-covered.

I fumed over this for a day or two, contemplating calling the drug store and giving somebody the "Karen" treatment. Whatever happened to the customer is always right? Frankly, I'm seeing less and less of that sorta "work ethic" any more, disdain and anger being the more common response to queries. Or the employees just ignore me. Not too long ago at the grocery store, the checker and the bagger said maybe two words to me, the entire time talking about Joey's upcoming Big Date. I felt slighted. I know it's silly, but the world of customer service didn't used to be this way. As I left the grocery store, I contemplated telling Joey the bagger to make sure he brings protection, but I figure if they can't help me, why should I help him? It's the state of our nation these days, every Tom, Dick and Joey out for themselves.

Anyway, the next day I visited my daughter and I told her my true tale of trauma. Coincidentally, she used to work at the very same drug store back in the day.

"Wait," she says. "I'll contact my old friend who I think still works there."

She texts her. Old Friend says they have nobody fitting that description working at the store.

"Whaaaaaaat?" I say. "What're you saying, this guy was a drug store employee imposter?"

I thought about it. Why would this guy impersonate a drug store clerk. What nefarious drug store conspiracy had I stumbled upon? Then the odd possibility hit me that maybe...just maybe...he didn't work there? I told my daughter that he wore a buttonless, red vest. He HAD to be a drug store employee. Who else would wear a buttonless red vest? It certainly wouldn't be to make a fashion statement.

"Um, Dad, the drug store employees wear blue shirts."

"Oh... Whoops."

Turns out that there was a "Savers" thrift shop next door and those employees wear ever-so-stylish, buttonless red vests (you know, if Savers is gonna stick their employees inside vests, couldn't they spring for buttons? What's the point of going buttonless?).

Okay, well I'm glad I didn't pull a full-on Karen assault. And in an odd way, it helps restore my faith in drug store employees. But it begs the question, why in the world didn't this angry Savers clerk tell me he didn't work there instead of frustrating the holy hell outta both of us? I mean, we've all made the embarrassing assumption of some people being employees when they're not. I've been accused of working at a grocery store. Still, I told the person that I didn't work there. 

And I guess I now kinda understand the old guy's shocking anger.

But it still doesn't explain the buttonless red vest.

While on the topic of buttonless red vests, you won't find any in my Zach and Zora comic mystery series, but in the third one, Nightmare of Nannies (newly reprinted from the fine folks at Crossroad Press), an entire chapter is devoted to the ensuing chase scene when Zach (a dumb, but kind-hearted male stripper...oops, I mean "male entertainment dancer") has his favorite tearaway pants stolen. Silly? You betcha and damn proud of it! That's Nightmare of Nannies available here!