A Cranky Rant on Poor Service
The week that began with both feet leaving the ground and my ass hitting the ground with a thud that woke the neighbors ended with:
* Me not getting into the office as early as I had planned/wanted to in order to get certain things done before I had to start taking calls and opening the doors.
* A very long day that included us having to deal with cleaning up the messes made by other departments and not getting so much as a “thank you.”
* As mentioned in my Tweet from earlier, a gold medal for the World’s Shittiest Workout. Seriously, it was pathetic.
* Going to Professor Java’s and…
…okay, we’re going to stop with the bulleted (asteriked?) list to engage in a little storytime.
So I went to Professor Java’s in order to get a few cups of coffee, possibly get something for dinner, and do some writing. When I arrived, I looked for somebody at the front counter to let them know where I’d be sitting, but only one person was there and she was making food. The other waitress was occupied with other tables, which is fine. Because the side room was completely shut off for some reason, there were only three tables available, but only one of them was actually cleared off. I took it, but it was in a dark corner with no light on it whatsoever. I figured I’d move once the waitress got to clearing off the other tables.
Well, that didn’t happen. After fifteen minutes I had to go up to the counter to ask if they could clear off another table so I could read and also so I wasn’t taking up one that could be used by a larger party. The waitress said she wasn’t sure if they’d left yet, and I had to assure her that, trust me, they did.
So she hurriedly cleared off the table while I went to the restroom. I had to go up a second time to ask for a menu, and took it back with me. Looked it over, decided on what I wanted. I was going to put in the order, but I’d noticed the waitress was providing table service to everyone in my area, so I figured I’d wait and not appear to be the ultra-pushy asshole who first asked for the table to be cleared off and then was like “um, hello, can I get service?”
Then people started coming in after I’d been there thirty minutes, being greeted (which I wasn’t), asked if they wanted a menu (which I wasn’t) – the whole shebang.
I’d really like to give this girl the benefit of the doubt, but it really wasn’t that busy at all. Two or three tables ordered food, and the rest were drinking coffee and not ordering anything else (or even getting refills) for a good half-hour of the time I was there.
Once I realized it’d hit the 40 minute mark, I’d had enough. I was irritated to the point where I didn’t really want to wait any longer and made me too frustrated to write. So I put my jacket on, placed the menu back up at the front counter, and approached the waitress.
Me: “Hi, I’m sorry, but I have to ask – is there a reason I wasn’t given any service whatsoever? Did I do something or appear to have a poor demeanor or…?”
Her: “OH NO, not at all! I thought you were just going to come up to order food.”
Me: “Well no, that’s why I asked for a menu and I figured since everybody else was getting serviced…”
Her: “I’m SOOOO sorry…well, do you want to stay?”
Me: “…uh, no. I’ve gotta go.”
Seriously, that was the weirdest aspect of it all – I really did feel like it was being done on purpose. Everybody around me was getting table service except for me. This was clearly how things were being done tonight. And yet, I wasn’t getting anything, despite actually going out of my way to make my presence known. And the thing is? Her apology was genuine. Like, I gauged her body language, and she really thought that I was going to simply go up and tell her what I wanted when everybody else was getting table service.
Which is…weird, isn’t it? And I didn’t because I thought that she was just too damn busy or whatever and would get to me eventually. I mean, why would I completely intrude on her system like that?
It was just so goddamn frustrating. Poor service is one thing, but it put me in a miserable mood for the entire night and prevented me from doing my writing, which I’d looked forward to for the entire working day. Literally, from the moment I got into work until I left at 5:45.
Okay, rant over.
Oh, then I got home to find my cat had puked on my comforter and sheets. I could go for a coup of coffee, but part of me doesn’t want to leave the house. I might anyway just so I don’t feel like my entire evening was wasted.
And it should also be said that despite all that, I actually had what I’d consider a really good week. A lot of good developments in certain areas. And I was able to really immerse myself into short story I was writing and really immerse myself in it.
Alright. Dunkin’ Donuts, here I come (for more shitty service).