Hip Hop
Anyway, there's a place here called "Hip Hop Fish & Chicken" that sells... well, you know - fish and chicken. In case you're wondering about the name, they tend to play hip hop music and/or videos inside.
I'm so fond of their food that I've got their number in my mobile phone. One day, I called them up as I have so many times before, and I placed my order. When I was done, she said some kind of number then tried to get off the phone.
"I'm sorry. What'd you say? Ten dollars?"
"No. It'll be ready in 10-15 minutes," she corrected.
"Okay, but wait," I said as she tried, again, to get off the phone. "What's the total?"
Yes, I asked what the total was. Now, I'm sure I got the individual prices as I ordered, but I was driving and wasn't really trying to divert more energy to the dilithium crystals that power the math cells of my brain.
Her response?
"We don't give totals over the phone."
Now, I'll be damned if they've never given me order totals over the phone before, but I wasn't going to argue with this chick. She'd already rubbed me the wrong way considering that I intend to throw some money their way. I just asked her to repeat herself.
"We don't give totals over the phone."
"Then cancel the order," I replied.
"Okay." She was cool with that shit. I guess that was just one less person for her to have to wait on.
Oooooh, I can't stand bad customer service. If their policy had changed, she could've said that. If she wasn't allowed to ring stuff up, then void it, just to get a total, she could've said that (and it turned out this was the issue).
She could've just used a damned calculator - and, to be fair, that's what management should've dictated, instead of saying they shouldn't give totals because it causes too many voids.
So, days later, I spoke to a manager/owner about it and that's when I found out about the void issue. He agreed that a calculator was the answer, although he seemed to be suggesting that his employees couldn't be trusted with it.
Geez.
~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~
AutozoneSo, I dropped by Autozone to get some parts to fix/replace some stuff under the hood of my truck. I'd been told how to remove a rather tricky part, which I chose to do in the Autozone parking lot. This is rather typical.
What I wasn't told was that this part was immersed in radiator fluid - under pressure. When I loosened the part, the damned fluid sprayed every-damned-thing under the hood - including my Black ass.
I had green fluid dripping from me. I'm so glad I had the sense to 1) change out of that white shirt I'd worn earlier in the day and 2) wear my sunglasses, since I had no goggles.
That kept me from replacing my wardrobe and my eyeballs.
Unfortunately, I felt like a drop may have gotten into my right eye, so I told my girlfriend (who'd been sitting inside the truck) what happened, and ran in the store.
"Excuse me, is the restroom in that corner?"
. . .
"Excuse me! I've got to get something out of my eye. Is the restroom over there?!"
"Yes."
I haul ass to the restroom and discover that there's no soap. My dirty-ass hands cannot be used to flush my eyes, so I had to leave the bathroom and talk to ol' boy, AGAIN.
"Excuse me. There's no soap in the bathroom. Do you have any?"
. . .
"Excuse me! I've got to flush my eyes, but I need some soap. Do you have any?"
"What you need?" Apparently, English is not his first language. He also seemed to be kind of hard-of-hearing since he didn't even flinch the first times I spoke to him. Considering what was at-stake, trust me, I was NOT mumbling or speaking softly. He's a nice enough guy, but this was not the time for a communication barrier.
"He's got something in his eye," someone else said, while I said I needed soap.
The associate walked away, then returned with a bottle of fluid. I ran my ass back to the restroom and quickly used that fluid to wash my filthy hands.
Once I figured my hands were clean, I began flushing my eye over and over, again. Eventually, an employee came to check on me. I explained that I was fine; I'd just needed soap so I could wash my hands... so that I could flush my eye.
When I was done, I looked at the fluid this guy gave me. It was eye-wash. It's meant to be used to flush your eyes when you get something in them (except I could've sworn it felt gritty when I used it).
So, let me make this clear: I'd just "washed" my hands with some near-water, then used what must've still been filthy-ass hands to "wash" out the foreign material that may have been in my eye.
"Sir, thanks for your help, but I asked for soap and this is eye-wash."
"Yes, eye wash - for washing eyes. Yes."
"Yes, but I needed soap so that I could use clean hands to flush my eyes out."
He didn't seem to get it and I was all outta patience. I said "Thanks," anyway, finished what I was doing, then got the hell outta there.
Geez, man.
9 comments:
The miscommunication is really interesting. Well, you did say you needed to flush your eyes, so......
......I mean, EYE get it (pun intended), but ummmm, not everyone thinks like me :)
If he was listening the first time you said you needed soap, HOPEFULLY, you would've gotten soap......hopefully.
Consider that the soap would have been rimmed with dirt, as was the eye wash gritty.
Up-post: No way you wanted to eat what that chick was going to handle in any way on that day.
(Question: this place actually rings up every order in the cash register, and doesn't just keep the drawer popped open and use the calculator placed on the side? Whoa...they must actually be paying their quarterlies.)
Your post made me smile. The positive part about this is that your eyes are fine and the hiphop manager has a constructive suggestion to improve his restaurant. something to think about.
"Hip Hop Fish & Chicken"
I am so tired today, so cranky...and thank goodness I can just laugh all day long about the image of folks fryin' up some catfish while listening to "Walk it Out". That name is hilarious.
I am so sick of people doing a shitty job at customer service. Ok, so you work at food joint, but have some pride in yourself and what you do. Always the do the best even if you think it is beneath you. Damn.
That situation with your car sounded a bit dangerous.
Okay, first of all, you know doggone well you are going to get shitty service at a place named Shake Your Chicken and Biscuits Fast! Pahhhaaaa
Next - would you stop fixing everydamnedthing on that truck yourself?!? Now what if your eyeballs would have melted? Then what? Take your thrifty ass to the Drop Your Transmission Like It's Hot Shop! LOL : )
You folks made me laugh out-loud. Thank you for that.
This reminds me of the number one reason I hate using the restroom in a place I've just eaten: finding out there's no soap, and then convincing myself that the cooks MUST have their own special bathroom somewhere else... fully-stocked with soap... and eyewash...
You have a real thing about bad customer service. I'm so used to bad that I stopped complaining to managers long ago. Keep fighting the good fight and thanks for the laugh.
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