But Why?

And thus concludes the longest break between blog posts that I have ever indulged in!

I promise, this Monday I have a brand new Requestion post already written up and ready to go, and from hereon out I will do my best to actually stick to the schedule. I even have a new theme for the vlog that will be a lot of fun! The Internets will be absolutely smothered in J.

Today, though, I have a muse-y blog for you.

It is graduation time, which means a lot of planning and prep and stress for some people, which translates readily into the bakery world. Dozens of cake orders that must be JUST PERFECT because dozens of people are experiencing a once-in-a-lifetime moment that they have worked very, very hard for. Families come in from out of state, sometimes even from out of the country, and the last thing any of them need is a crappy cake to ruin the glorious moment.

Stress levels--and business flow--is high. That's just what happens around big events; holidays, celebrations, you name it. If you have lived long enough, you know this. If you have worked in customer service long enough, you know this.

Well, I'm 24 and I've worked in customer service since I was sixteen. So it takes a lot to surprise me.

Today was a fairly awful day at work. We were busy, which is fine because it makes the day go by much more quickly, and besides that three of my best friends were working with me, so the day could have just been fantastic. But throughout my shift there was a constant stream of uncalled for rudeness. This is also something you just sort of come to expect in customer service--when you have one person who is paying for another person to do something for them, there can easily be a sense of entitlement. Some people aren't built to handle that with grace. That's just the way it is, and it really does not have to be the end of your good mood, but it does tend to grind on you if you get enough of it all at once, and all throughout the day. Smiling and asking someone how they are doing should not result in them sneering at you to 'piss off' as they flick their wrist and march away with cookies in hand. That's just excessive. Somehow, it happened twice today.

One incident in particular jarred me. A woman came to the bakery and insisted that she needed a cake specially made for her by 5:30 tonight--which was kind of impossible, as the decorators were not only long gone, but left a giant stack of orders they had to do for the next day. Various suggestions were made--she could buy a kit and decorate her own cake (her idea, and $10), a cake could be written on for her (standard procedure, free) or a kit could be put on a ready-made cake and the price adjusted to fit (a hassle on any day, much less massively busy ones; $6).

I wasn't actually the clerk helping her. One of our new ladies was helping her, and unknowingly quoted the wrong prices. My friend was standing nearby and corrected her, unknowingly giving her a second incorrect set of prices. When I heard the incorrect quote, I hurried over, waited for a lull in the conversation, and explained what the actual charge would be. I smiled. I asked if there were any other questions. I went back to work.

A moment passed, during which the woman decided on having the new lady redecorate a cake for her. Then she came over to my side of the counter, where I was packaging bread with my friend.

"Excuse me?"

I looked up.

"I just wanted to let you know that that woman was very kind and sweet and helpful-"

She's smiling, I'm smiling. Good! Our newer worker is a good saleswoman.

"-and you were a complete SNOT."

The childish word and the absolute vitriol in the woman's voice takes me by surprise. She proceeds to snarl at me about how I barged in and I was so completely RUDE! She actually spits with some of her words, and points at me like I'm a dog that peed on the carpet. She rants at me for a bit more while my friend and I just sort of stare at her, slightly slack-jawed. I try to explain that I was just trying to help get the correct information out, and she slaps the explanation down with a couple more insults. So I apologize, and get back to work while she huffs back to talk to the lady working on her cake.

Later I explained to my manager what happened, in case the customer decided to lodge a complaint with an store manager.

That is all I am allowed to do. I can't defend myself. I can't fight back against name calling and insults that I got as a reward for doing my job. I just have to take it, and apologize for imagined slights, and get back to work. I try not to think about it for the rest of my shift, but my stomach is sour and my hands are shaking for a while after the outburst, and I spend more time telling myself that it doesn't bother me than I probably would if that were true.

Am I a snot? A rude person? Sometimes, yeah! I'm young. I listen to my music to loud. I'm intelligent enough to recognize when other people are idiots,  and snarkery is one of my favorite pastimes, hanging right below writing, and I am blessed because the two can mate and produce a beautiful baby in the form of snarky lit. But I need my job too badly to bring any of that out in front of customers. Because I know that one grouch could get me fired if they complained to the right/wrong manager.

But that's besides the point. I've met morons, and jerks, and irritants in humanoid form before. But I would never pin someone down and snarl at them about how much they suck just because I COULD. The only time I have ever given someone a tongue lashing was when they did serious emotional harm to someone I care about. Even then, I do it in private, and I let them have their say, and I try to remain respectful and calm.

And throughout the day, I wondered about this snarly woman.

What did she hope to accomplish by coming over, singling me out, and insulting me like that?

What's the next move for her? Does she go around and brag to her friends about how she told off some snotty rude ruderson at the grocery store, because they had the audacity to correct someone on a price?

What sort of life must she lead, that she derived so much pleasure in putting some nobody bakery clerk in Podunk, Montana, in their place?

Whatever has happened in my life--whatever magical series of events--that led me to becoming the sort of person who is not THAT sort of person, I'm grateful for it. If I ever become the sort of person who will verbally slap someone around just because they have to take it, and just because I can, may all my fingers go numb so I can never write again until I change back.

To my great relief and mild amusement, that woman sent someone else in to pick up her specially designed, late notice cake. With any luck I won't have to deal with her again. In the meantime, I'm taking this awful day and turning it into fuel for words. I wrote this muse-y, rant-y blog post, and because a coin flip turned out heads I'm posting it. The rest of the night belongs to my novel, which should benefit greatly from the 8-hour reminder of why I am not down with the day-job world.

Larkin Out!

Tantrum Time!

The title is not referring to a tantrum thrown by me. Well, maybe, depending on how you look at it. But here we go!

An interesting tantrum from a customer got me thinking. He was making a big deal about which danish he got, wanting the biggest one. In my professional eye, they were all the same size, but that hardly mattered. When we finally got him squared away, he gave me a mournful pout and said, "You don't really care which one I want, do you?"


My response at the time was to chuckle and say "They pay me to care," which is both partially true and a good way to appease the whiners.

But as days passed, I couldn't get the question out of my head. "You don't really care what I want, do you?"

The truth is: Of course I don't! And if we're really honest with ourselves, it would be creepy if I did!

Can you imagine what sort of backwards world we'd live in if customer service reps had the demeanor they do in the commercials? No family life, no goals, no interests outside of how many fish specials they can hawk out to the twinkling lights of their lives: the customers.

It would be like the marketplace the Stepford Wives shop at. Any personal trauma or loss of limb would be easily programmed away. If the C.C.R. doesn't achieve their goal of measuring out, pricing and packaging the customer's products PERFECTLY, they self destruct. Life is not living if you can't magically pull out exactly what the crotchety dude in loafers wants, whether or not it's been sold out for hours!

Is that really how the average customer wants to shop? Indentured robotics in aprons and uniforms? I seem to recall a time when some stranger taking a deep interest in what you've got going on was cause for a search warrant and arrest. Whatever happened to a simple, "Hello, I would like that one, Thank you, Have a nice day?" There's nothing wrong with responding to other humans with, dare I say it, basic human contact. Even if one of you is being paid to stand behind a counter.

So, no, I really don't care what my customers want. Or how they want it. Or what they're going to do with it. And that is the greatest gift I can give to someone I don't know.

Jenni out.

Getting Acquainted with the Grindstone

Hello, readers!

It has been a while since I posted, which perhaps left some of you wondering whether I'd died happy in Europe.

I didn't.

Despite the best efforts of Mother Nature and mechanical errors, I made it back to Missoula in one piece and in a somewhat timely manner. I could perhaps go back and give you a few more journal entries from the trip, but I think for now I'll simply give you a summary:

(A) Paranoid people exist everywhere, so be careful about taking pictures into crowds.
(B) There are few things as fascinating as the unknown, and no better way to exercise your imagination than coming up with your own solutions to real-world mysteries.
(3) Lamb stew is yummy.
(IV) Everything has a story; if you're passionate enough about it, you can even make it interesting to others.
(Echo) I'm a lot more chill about being lost in foreign countries and not knowing entirely where I am or what I'm doing than I would have ever thought. Also, I'm a lot more brash than is perhaps conducive to a long life.
(F) Speaking a foreign language is fabulous! It means that when you're in the middle of the other side's camp, you never run out of people who want to hang out with you! Until you get sick and completely lose your voice.
(Lucky#) There's nothing better to inspire you than to literally see the world that the past masters saw; as close to seeing through their eyes as you can get.

And that's what I've come away from the trip with! And a new host of magnets. I've got some really cool ones; buildings and sites, a pirate ship, a magnetic cook book...Now all I need is a fridge to put them on!

So, now I'm back in Missoula. I start working back at the bakery soon (or so I've been told), and need to get my final assignments in before July. I've got more work done on the first Phil Innis adventure, and have started work on a second. I want to get back to getting solid work done on 'First Time's a Charm,' too. As far as writing goes, I'm chomping at the bit.

Which means, as far as you lovely half-handful of folks goes, that I shall be here far more often.

Thank you, and goodnight!