Random Thoughts, at 12:30 in the morning...
Just a few random thoughts, as I try to get back into the groove of writing things on my blogamathing.
I had what you might call a difficult customer service experience yesterday, which isn't the point of this particular paragraph, merely the lead-in. In short, a customer made a mistake, insisted that I correct her mistake, made another mistake after I corrected the first one, and reacted condescendingly after I corrected her on her second mistake. Essentially, she noted the corrected mistake with the phrase: "Good Boy."
Good Boy?
Good Boy.
I noted to my friend Rachel that it was with the same tone that you would use for your dog, when he has appropriately avoided shitting on the living room rug.
To wit, her response: "The positive reinforcement wouldn't be necessary if you'd stop shitting where you're not supposed to."
My response? "Where I'm supposed to shit" is a subjective thing.
Still. If I can teach you people anything at all, it is this: The respect with which you treat somebody in a customer service position is the truest indicator of the type of person you are at heart.
And, after some 15 years or so, off and on, in the customer service industry, I can assure you that there is a boatload of shitheads just in my neck of the woods alone. I'm not even breaching the major metropolises of the world.
-----
It is "White Trash Sits out on the Porch at Midnight Night," by the way. I know this because both sets of white trash neighbors are sitting out on the porch at midnight. The one set is fairly lit, judging by the attempts at humor. The other set is simply finding a pleasant place to smoke, I would suppose.
Anyway, I would humbly like to submit my apologies for not buying you a card, or perhaps a Citronella Candle. What about one of those shakeable pocket hand warmers? I used to love those things. It's getting a little chilly in this neck of the woods.
I say "a little chilly," and I'm sure you poor souls reading this blogamathing up in the wilds of Calgary, Alberta, Canada (and thank you, faithful reader, for showing up at least 5 times a week), are laughing at my referring to my 39 degrees as "a little chilly." But still, 39 degrees, to me, doesn't really denote the best weather to sit out on the porch and comment on the ways and passings of the world.
----
I am a horrible blogger, inasmuch as a week ago, I got together over at the home of Straight White Guy, along with several other Online Journalists in a yearly debacle of inanity known as Hysterics at Eric's. A fine time was had by all, and I'd like to to publicly thank Eric for hosting the event....
----
I would like to revise my previous review of the movie Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, which I'd remembered not liking very much. It seemed like too much was packed into the movie, or rather, too much had to be left off to get the movie to fit into a 2 or a 2 and a half hour span.
What I missed was the interplay between Harry and Snape. In truth, Snape gets roughly 4 minutes of screen time, and the final declaration of "I am the Half-Blood Prince" seems to come pretty much out of nowhere.
In the space of a couple weeks, I've re-viewed the previous five movies, and watched the sixth over the past couple of mornings. In that particular context, I can buy the lack of screen time given to Snape, despite his being my favorite character. By this point, we know who he is, and how nasty he can be, especially as it concerns Harry.
Half-Blood Prince is one I haven't re-read since it first came into print. I may be confusing books. Is it Half-Blood Prince where we learn that Snape was in love with Harry's mother, when they were in school?
Whoa.
Sorry. Just dipped a bit too deep into the Wizarding World Geekery.
My apologies.
----
I hate it when people spell "Whoa" as "Woah."
It's irrational, I guess. I'd say "Woah" is an acceptable spelling.
In most quarters.
Not this one, though.
So watch it.
Just saying.
I had what you might call a difficult customer service experience yesterday, which isn't the point of this particular paragraph, merely the lead-in. In short, a customer made a mistake, insisted that I correct her mistake, made another mistake after I corrected the first one, and reacted condescendingly after I corrected her on her second mistake. Essentially, she noted the corrected mistake with the phrase: "Good Boy."
Good Boy?
Good Boy.
I noted to my friend Rachel that it was with the same tone that you would use for your dog, when he has appropriately avoided shitting on the living room rug.
To wit, her response: "The positive reinforcement wouldn't be necessary if you'd stop shitting where you're not supposed to."
My response? "Where I'm supposed to shit" is a subjective thing.
Still. If I can teach you people anything at all, it is this: The respect with which you treat somebody in a customer service position is the truest indicator of the type of person you are at heart.
And, after some 15 years or so, off and on, in the customer service industry, I can assure you that there is a boatload of shitheads just in my neck of the woods alone. I'm not even breaching the major metropolises of the world.
-----
It is "White Trash Sits out on the Porch at Midnight Night," by the way. I know this because both sets of white trash neighbors are sitting out on the porch at midnight. The one set is fairly lit, judging by the attempts at humor. The other set is simply finding a pleasant place to smoke, I would suppose.
Anyway, I would humbly like to submit my apologies for not buying you a card, or perhaps a Citronella Candle. What about one of those shakeable pocket hand warmers? I used to love those things. It's getting a little chilly in this neck of the woods.
I say "a little chilly," and I'm sure you poor souls reading this blogamathing up in the wilds of Calgary, Alberta, Canada (and thank you, faithful reader, for showing up at least 5 times a week), are laughing at my referring to my 39 degrees as "a little chilly." But still, 39 degrees, to me, doesn't really denote the best weather to sit out on the porch and comment on the ways and passings of the world.
----
I am a horrible blogger, inasmuch as a week ago, I got together over at the home of Straight White Guy, along with several other Online Journalists in a yearly debacle of inanity known as Hysterics at Eric's. A fine time was had by all, and I'd like to to publicly thank Eric for hosting the event....
----
I would like to revise my previous review of the movie Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, which I'd remembered not liking very much. It seemed like too much was packed into the movie, or rather, too much had to be left off to get the movie to fit into a 2 or a 2 and a half hour span.
What I missed was the interplay between Harry and Snape. In truth, Snape gets roughly 4 minutes of screen time, and the final declaration of "I am the Half-Blood Prince" seems to come pretty much out of nowhere.
In the space of a couple weeks, I've re-viewed the previous five movies, and watched the sixth over the past couple of mornings. In that particular context, I can buy the lack of screen time given to Snape, despite his being my favorite character. By this point, we know who he is, and how nasty he can be, especially as it concerns Harry.
Half-Blood Prince is one I haven't re-read since it first came into print. I may be confusing books. Is it Half-Blood Prince where we learn that Snape was in love with Harry's mother, when they were in school?
Whoa.
Sorry. Just dipped a bit too deep into the Wizarding World Geekery.
My apologies.
----
I hate it when people spell "Whoa" as "Woah."
It's irrational, I guess. I'd say "Woah" is an acceptable spelling.
In most quarters.
Not this one, though.
So watch it.
Just saying.
posted by Tommy at
00:30
1 Comments:
I took my two younger sons out to dinner on Saturday. We went to a little restaurant inside Gander Mountain. I made small talk with the waiter as I always do, told him no stress over us, we're all good and to take his time. I'd been there done that, having waited tables through college. (He was my age.)
The dinner went on, he'd come back and checked on us, we'd talk football. He spoke to the boys. Snippets here and there. By the end I found out he'd been a big wig criminal attorney in one of our Northern counties, big house, Mercedes, all of it, completely burned out on the dark side of society, threw it into the wind, decided to become a beach bum for a year until he could figure out what he wanted to do next. He's thinking... restaurant biz. I knew from talking to him none of it was BS. I could tell. But HE thought I was doubting, and at the end, showed me his FL bar card. I told him, "I just never doubted your sincerity."
Two things there... made me wonder what the catalyst was, what he'd seen that he did something so drastic... and as he said, was so damn happy. But also, I said to my sons, never look down on someone making an honest living, no matter what they are doing for it. You don't know their story... and everyone is entitled to respect until they prove otherwise.
It was a great evening. My kids really saw that folks... no matter the service industry... can be anyone.
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