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The Miracle Worker

I’m a miracle worker. Did you know that? Apparently things that are basically impossible can happen. On demand. You simply have to ask.

Today,  for example, I dealt with a customer who was in dire need of one of my miracles. A school shirt she had purchased for her son wasn’t top notch quality. She returned it of course. She even got a full refund. For good measure, she also abused the Store Manager. She wanted more, though. She wanted a miracle.

She wanted the company to create the same shirt, but better quality. A refund wasn’t enough. She didn’t want a different shirt. She wanted THAT shirt but better and she wanted it NOW. Suggesting a better quality item to the manufacturer for next year simply was not an option. Sending them an email was not an option. She wanted them to call her back.

I’m the miracle worker, you see. I make the impossible possible. Unfortunately my magic is not advanced enough to banish the likes of this women onto a planet far far away.

The sense of entitlement of this women (and other members of society, at that) inspire in me a desire to make life as difficult as possible for them. I’m no miracle worker. I’m most definitely not here to give into a customers every desire. If that were the case, I’d be sitting down stitching this new shirt by hand instead of typing this blog.

Humanities sense of entitlement extends beyond customer service. Whilst participating in some circuit interval training at the gym, some lady used a machine for over 2 minutes as opposed to the required 30 seconds. Upon standing besides her, huffing and sweating away, waiting for her to finish what she should have finished a minute ago, she had the nerve to shoot me a glare.

I’m not the one in fault lady! Go to another class if you want to workout on your own terms. Better yet, invest in the machine, take it home and live happily ever after with it. Just don’t hold up my workout! 

How about people with very poor time management? Whilst this deserves a post for itself (and it will get one, trust me), I’ll briefly touch on how selfish it is for people to think their time is better than others time. I’m speaking about those people continuously late to work, to dinner, to coffee or (even worse) to a movie. They prance in with an air of indiffierence with their petty excuses expecting to be forgiven out of pity.

NO! Simply no. Your time is no more valuable than that of others. You’re no more valuable than any one else.

Selfishly entitled beings, rid yourself of your pathetic sense of entitlement and get off that ridiculous high horse of yours or else you’ll be galloping your way into people’s bad books and a life of loneliness.

Rule for Humanity: A sense of entitlement only entitles you to ridicule.

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Easy as eBook

Working in customer services opens your eyes to the the stupidity of the world. I often feel I’m being too critical and just acting like a bitch but then I think, had stupidity been nonexistent, I wouldn’t even have the amount of work that I have. Heck, I could be jobless! Thank you stupidity?

The cake today goes to a customer who tried to refund an eBook because she ‘thought it was a hard copy’.

A moment of silence, please, for her dead brain cells.

Not only did she enter a website that holds no other purpose than to sell eBooks, she then claimed to have bought this without knowing what an eBook actually was. So she’s knowingly accessed a website to buy something that she doesn’t know anything of?

Explain to me again, miss, how this is my fault?

When I explained that her error STILL meant she can’t exchange her eBook for a hard copy because:

A) I have no way of retrieving the eBook and guaranteeing she won’t still use it.

B) We don’t sell hard copies of books. It’s an eBook website!

She wasn’t too pleased and once again went on about how the website was misleading.

A website specifically for eBooks which she used to buy (you guessed it!) eBooks is misleading?

It’s safe to say her threats to involve a lawyer will cost her more than her $10 eBook. Her refusal to shop with me again will be a blessing. And her stupidity lives on another day to entertain another person.

Rule for Humanity: It’s okay to be unsure. Call and clarify. It’s okay not to know. We are blessed with Google. It’s not okay to walk yourself into trouble and then try and be compensated for your mistake. You’ll land yourself on my blog.

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A blunt problem

I’m going to be quite blunt about this problem because, quite frankly, I’m sick of blunt knives at cafes and restaurants. The only time I’ve ever received a sharp knife is when ordering a steak. After many complaints. And a long search in their kitchen as they tried to locate what I would think is a staple at all eating establishments. Like water or towels or the dishpig.The fact is, butter knives are for spreads. Butter. Jam. Vegemite.

After much pondering, late nights, procrastinated work and many notebooks (I kid. It took me 5 minutes), I bring you:

3 Reasons why butter knives are preffered
(brace yourselves!)

1. COSTI’d say it’s cost,  however (as we recently discovered in a previous entry), cafes already charge me an arm and a leg for simple sides such as extra cheese, that I doubt money is a problem. They’re probably rolling in it!

2. OH&S Maybe cafés are following OH&S regulations? In that case the OH&S dictator is either a two year old child who is still fearing sharp things courtesy of their parents or that PC freak we all know (and secretly hate).

They all seem quite outrageous, right? (And if you don’t think it’s outrageous, feel free to leave this blog and migrate to a planet other than Earth.)

So here’s the only reason that would make the slightest of sense to me…

3. SAFETY The last thing a cafe wants is to become the victim of the latest crime involving knives. And I kind of understand. I’d happily throw a knife in the direction of any one that makes a go at a piece of crispy bacon on my plate. Or a chef who poaches my eggs but overcooks them (it’s all about the yolk!) Maybe I’ll be so envious of the food on the table next to me, I’ll devise the ultimate plan involving a knife to ensure the food is mine. ALL MINE! Food fuelled crime is quite serious!

But to be honest, even if any of that happened to me, I’d still find a way to do it with a butter knife. 

Rules of Humanity: Stop being blunt. Bring us sharper knives!

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Tangled Secrets

Getting my hair cut is one of those things I’m always too lazy to get done. I’d like to say I get it done every three months but the reality is I think about it three months after my last haircut and then finally make it into the salon another three months later. My three-months-turned-into-six-months recently came and I walked into a random (yet bustling) salon one afternoon. 

Now call me conceited but when I pay for a service, I expect to get exactly that – SERVICE. Instead I sat at a seat and was shoved and pulled to the hairdressers liking because apparently asking me to move this way or that was out of the question. Speaking to me seemed to be out of the question completely as any of my attempts for small talk was ignored. I’d like to say that the hairdresser simply wasn’t the talking type but we all know that that’s impossible.

She did like to talk to her other colleague though! The one standing next to her cutting someone elses hair. They managed to discuss how they couldn’t discuss who they invited to an upcoming dinner because it was a secret. A secret so secret it was worth mentioning in public. This was followed by a little workplace gossip that suddenly escalated to non-stop bitching about their boss. THEIR BOSS who was frantically walking up and down the salon trying to get his job done.

It appears I forgot to read the disclaimer as I entered the salon. “Expect rudeness and bitchiness because you’re not paying to be one of our customers. You’re paying to be a means for us to kill time.”

Rule for Humanity: I can’t believe I have to actually spell it out for these rude aliens who try to be human – but ignoring is not cool. NOT. COOL.