No, really. You can tell me the truth.
Sometimes I can be a horrible person. Or at least, horrible in my own eyes, especially because I know I'm the one doing the horrible thing, yet I'm not stopping myself from doing it.
Hmm.
Anyway. I stopped at the store on my way home from the gym tonight, in a good mode after working out and enjoying the rain break. Mood also high because I hadn't been tailgated down the length of the street by an a-hole in desperate need to get to the Starbucks drive-thru (no joke) as had happened on the trip to the gym the night prior. The closest grocery story to where I live is a Fred Meyer, and it's a biggun...one of those with the hardware and housewares and such all over the place, so if you're bored and looking for something to do, you can wander the aisles as long as you want and argue with yourself about what you need to buy vs. what's on Clearance vs. "but I could use that later..." Since I no longer have anyone waiting at home for me, I decided to let my 'runner's high' evaporate in just such a fashion, and moseyed my way through most of the sections. I was actually looking for a couple of things...a drying rack for clothes and a yellowjacket trap...and only succeeded in finding the latter. (I know IKEA has drying racks, and I need a filing cabinet from them, so I'll probably hie myself down there one of these weekends instead.)
I then wandered over to the grocery section and got some sliced turkey, chips and a bottle of discounted wine (hey, why not, right? I'll save the good stuff for company.) But because the discounted wine has a special sticker on it indicating it as discounted, and if you go through the self-checkout (as I am wont to do on most occasions), you have to go through this big rigmarole to get the clerk to discount it for you, I decided to go through a real clerk checkout line.
The person in front of me took quite awhile; she was a woman in her late 50's to early 60's and had been talking with the customer in front of her about mutual grandkid extracurricular issues, and was now engaged with a supplementary conversation with the male clerk (young guy, probably mid-20's) about Job's Daughters. I'm not quite sure how the switch occurred, but perhaps I missed the secret gesture while I was examining the latest news on Shiloh Jolie-Pitt. Nonetheless, these two were enjoying the chat, and since I'd already been kicking around for the better part of an hour, who am I to say hurry up?
They said their goodbyes and I moved up to scan my Freddie's card and punch in my PIN. The clerk said, "How are you tonight?" and I said, "Good, thanks. And you?"
And here's the part where it gets nasty. He said, "Good, but I aaaaam awfully sore."
At the moment that I registered what he said, I made an instant decision NOT to respond. I don't know what it is in me that hates being manipulated or coerced by really obvious attempts at leading conversations, but it's there, and it drives me nuts. And my response to it, time and time again, is to stonewall.
Now, what harm is there, how 'put out' would I really have been if I'd said, "Oh?" Or, "What happened?" Or even, "Sore angry or sore physical?" Or something. Not that put out, you might say. And you'd be right. We'd have engaged in a little discussion about it, and I'd have been on my merry way five minutes later, receipt in hand.
But for some reason, I not only didn't do it, I couldn't and wouldn't. The five year-old in me was stomping her foot, and so I just stood there silently, and then asked a question about one of the things I was buying, something innocuous, and politely said thanks on my way out.
Does anyone else ever do things like this? Things you know about which you're just being ridiculous, but you do it anyway? Almost just...indulging yourself by behaving like a jerk?
I dunno. Maybe it's a sign of the times; automation has negated the need for social interaction, and every once in awhile I just give up the ghost when it comes to politeness? I'm usually all for being chirpy with customer service folks; having done the job in various facets for enough years, I appreciate what they go through and try not to be one of THOSE customers. But sometimes...sometimes.
Hmm.
Anyway. I stopped at the store on my way home from the gym tonight, in a good mode after working out and enjoying the rain break. Mood also high because I hadn't been tailgated down the length of the street by an a-hole in desperate need to get to the Starbucks drive-thru (no joke) as had happened on the trip to the gym the night prior. The closest grocery story to where I live is a Fred Meyer, and it's a biggun...one of those with the hardware and housewares and such all over the place, so if you're bored and looking for something to do, you can wander the aisles as long as you want and argue with yourself about what you need to buy vs. what's on Clearance vs. "but I could use that later..." Since I no longer have anyone waiting at home for me, I decided to let my 'runner's high' evaporate in just such a fashion, and moseyed my way through most of the sections. I was actually looking for a couple of things...a drying rack for clothes and a yellowjacket trap...and only succeeded in finding the latter. (I know IKEA has drying racks, and I need a filing cabinet from them, so I'll probably hie myself down there one of these weekends instead.)
I then wandered over to the grocery section and got some sliced turkey, chips and a bottle of discounted wine (hey, why not, right? I'll save the good stuff for company.) But because the discounted wine has a special sticker on it indicating it as discounted, and if you go through the self-checkout (as I am wont to do on most occasions), you have to go through this big rigmarole to get the clerk to discount it for you, I decided to go through a real clerk checkout line.
The person in front of me took quite awhile; she was a woman in her late 50's to early 60's and had been talking with the customer in front of her about mutual grandkid extracurricular issues, and was now engaged with a supplementary conversation with the male clerk (young guy, probably mid-20's) about Job's Daughters. I'm not quite sure how the switch occurred, but perhaps I missed the secret gesture while I was examining the latest news on Shiloh Jolie-Pitt. Nonetheless, these two were enjoying the chat, and since I'd already been kicking around for the better part of an hour, who am I to say hurry up?
They said their goodbyes and I moved up to scan my Freddie's card and punch in my PIN. The clerk said, "How are you tonight?" and I said, "Good, thanks. And you?"
And here's the part where it gets nasty. He said, "Good, but I aaaaam awfully sore."
At the moment that I registered what he said, I made an instant decision NOT to respond. I don't know what it is in me that hates being manipulated or coerced by really obvious attempts at leading conversations, but it's there, and it drives me nuts. And my response to it, time and time again, is to stonewall.
Now, what harm is there, how 'put out' would I really have been if I'd said, "Oh?" Or, "What happened?" Or even, "Sore angry or sore physical?" Or something. Not that put out, you might say. And you'd be right. We'd have engaged in a little discussion about it, and I'd have been on my merry way five minutes later, receipt in hand.
But for some reason, I not only didn't do it, I couldn't and wouldn't. The five year-old in me was stomping her foot, and so I just stood there silently, and then asked a question about one of the things I was buying, something innocuous, and politely said thanks on my way out.
Does anyone else ever do things like this? Things you know about which you're just being ridiculous, but you do it anyway? Almost just...indulging yourself by behaving like a jerk?
I dunno. Maybe it's a sign of the times; automation has negated the need for social interaction, and every once in awhile I just give up the ghost when it comes to politeness? I'm usually all for being chirpy with customer service folks; having done the job in various facets for enough years, I appreciate what they go through and try not to be one of THOSE customers. But sometimes...sometimes.
Comments
I think I am just easily offended by people of any stripe try to impose their autobiography on me. I especially loathe the “one-uppers” of the world who, rather than really listening, seem to be waiting just to seize an opportunity in a discussion to project their own version of how something similar happened *to them.* Maybe the sign of the times is that we're able to recognize when someone is doing this?
In the case of your cashier, I don’t think you should beat yourself up for not taking the bait. The fact that you’ve spent so much time contemplating this interaction is proof positive (to me) that you are not a horrible jerky lady :-)
I...wow. Can't even offer sympathy about the Wal-Mart issue because it's just so many levels of yikes. Please tell me the leads weren't named things like "Estrella Crane." LOL