(no subject)
I had two very different experiences with graciousness yesterday at work.
The first was my very first customer. She wanted to return a blanket, but she had no receipt. I explained to her that I could return it for store credit, but that I would need some form of identification for the computer system. She didn't have any. I told her I therefore couldn't do the return until she had some. She insisted I take the blanket for store credit anyway, and did I think she way lying (she was acting most offended)? I explained it wasn't a matter of trust but a matter of record. One of my older, more experienced co-workers walked by about then and explained the exact same thing to the lady. The lady huffed off, bitching, with her blanket.
But it gets better.
She finishes shopping and comes back through my line and asks to speak to a manager. She tries to overstep what I've told her by seeking a higher authority. Of course, the higher authority repeats what I have said. So the woman caves (sort of) and has her daughter run outside for her passport. The lady gets angry, again, when I ask her daughter to fill out the paper which resultingly prints, as it is the daughter's information. Or to at least have the daughter sign it.
The whole situation was ridiculous. This woman was easily upper-middle class; she spent two-hundred dollars that day on random stuff. Easily. All this grumping and hurt pride over returning an $11.99 blanket.
Conversely, there is this story.
A man, single-parent of two daughters and who looked like he was probably lower-middle class (I'm assuming here), comes in to return a set of sheets. They hadn't fit his daughter's bed. Matt (in whose line this exchange is taking place), examines the sheets and sees the threads coming loose. The sheets are damaged, most likely because they have been washed; we do not accept washed sheets, because we do not accept items for return which have been altered or used. Matt explains this to the man. The man does not get angry, but says he does not remember them washing the sheets. Kelly, the Front End Supervisor, comes over, checks it out, and agrees with Matt that we cannot accept the sheets for return. She then explains which sheets would most likely fit his bed (it has an over-sized mattress). Does the man throw a fit? No: he thanks Matt and Kelly for their time, goes into the store, and finds the correct sized sheets.
When he checks out, the man comes through my line. It's very busy at this point; I wouldn't be surprised if he'd had to wait 15-20 minutes to reach a cashier. I tell him I thought he handled being told no in a very courteous manner, and that I thought that was cool. His reply? "Well, they're only twelve dollar sheets anyway. Why make a fuss? Besides, I love this store."
What a difference, huh?
I checked out his items; he told me to have a nice day and smiled.
Awesome.
The first was my very first customer. She wanted to return a blanket, but she had no receipt. I explained to her that I could return it for store credit, but that I would need some form of identification for the computer system. She didn't have any. I told her I therefore couldn't do the return until she had some. She insisted I take the blanket for store credit anyway, and did I think she way lying (she was acting most offended)? I explained it wasn't a matter of trust but a matter of record. One of my older, more experienced co-workers walked by about then and explained the exact same thing to the lady. The lady huffed off, bitching, with her blanket.
But it gets better.
She finishes shopping and comes back through my line and asks to speak to a manager. She tries to overstep what I've told her by seeking a higher authority. Of course, the higher authority repeats what I have said. So the woman caves (sort of) and has her daughter run outside for her passport. The lady gets angry, again, when I ask her daughter to fill out the paper which resultingly prints, as it is the daughter's information. Or to at least have the daughter sign it.
The whole situation was ridiculous. This woman was easily upper-middle class; she spent two-hundred dollars that day on random stuff. Easily. All this grumping and hurt pride over returning an $11.99 blanket.
Conversely, there is this story.
A man, single-parent of two daughters and who looked like he was probably lower-middle class (I'm assuming here), comes in to return a set of sheets. They hadn't fit his daughter's bed. Matt (in whose line this exchange is taking place), examines the sheets and sees the threads coming loose. The sheets are damaged, most likely because they have been washed; we do not accept washed sheets, because we do not accept items for return which have been altered or used. Matt explains this to the man. The man does not get angry, but says he does not remember them washing the sheets. Kelly, the Front End Supervisor, comes over, checks it out, and agrees with Matt that we cannot accept the sheets for return. She then explains which sheets would most likely fit his bed (it has an over-sized mattress). Does the man throw a fit? No: he thanks Matt and Kelly for their time, goes into the store, and finds the correct sized sheets.
When he checks out, the man comes through my line. It's very busy at this point; I wouldn't be surprised if he'd had to wait 15-20 minutes to reach a cashier. I tell him I thought he handled being told no in a very courteous manner, and that I thought that was cool. His reply? "Well, they're only twelve dollar sheets anyway. Why make a fuss? Besides, I love this store."
What a difference, huh?
I checked out his items; he told me to have a nice day and smiled.
Awesome.