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Not incredibly long ago, the video rental establishment in which I am in bondage to broke into the vast frontier of (Netflix-esq) DvDs through the mail. It was a great system, really good deal, and not all that confusing if you were born with all your chromosomes and had seen a computer that didn't take up an entire gymnasium.
Quite the revolutionaries we were. Now there were some skeptics, especially after hearing the amazing deal it was. After assuring the naysayers that their soul, limbs, or first born children would not be required to become a member; they were given a two week period to try out the service. The majority of them loved the service and pledged their allegiance to our spectacular cyber-space venture and the good times did roll!
A few weeks ago, a man came into my store. He had been a member of the program and rather than just cancel his account, he relied on the good name of [my company] to just stop charging for the service. Ah Capitalism...
I, as kindly as I could, explained to him that it was his responsibility to cancel his own service and that there was nothing I could do to aid him. I reassured him that I could indeed help him cancel his service now if he would like. We moved to the computer that had been set up for the sole purpose of using the online program.
In a perfect world, he would have entered his account information, I would have navigated him to the appropriate portion of the webpage, and we'd have tackled the issue as an impromptu team, possibly even high fiving at the end. Sadly, he didn't have his account information.
After a number of failed attempts, I went to fetch him the customer service number. He insisted that his information would be in our in-store computers, where the accounts of in-store members are. He, of course was wrong, which I explained. The only thing we shared with the online portion was a company name, but then again, I just work there and wouldn't know of such a thing, right?
That's what was going through this "Gentleman's" brain apparently. He was frustrated, and I could understand why he would be. He assumed that a company out to make money wouldn't continue charging him for a service he was signed up for, despite his inactivity. He assumed that I could just type in his name and fix the problem. He was wrong thus far, but after succumbing to frustration, and perhaps the fact that he was over 40 and most likely still loving with his mother, he lashed out.
"You're just jerking me around here!"
This said while I was behind the counter trying to locate the number for the online program. I ignored it.
"And what about you? Why aren't you helping?
His voice getting dangerously close to the tone of a good punch to the mouth (in a non-work setting.) He said this to my co-worker, while she was busy checking in movies.
Before she could answer, I retrieved the number. I wrote it on a piece of paper and brought it to him.
"That's it? That's the best you can do? Give me a [f]xxxing number??"
I explained again that we have no access to his online account, and the fact that he didn't know his log in information didn't help either.
"You're not helping because they don't pay you enough! That's it isn't it? Neither of you are very good at your jobs"
I had spent a good 15 minutes with this guy, trying to help him with a problem that his own stupidity/mental retardation had caused. Now he's telling me I'm not good at my job? That was the last straw.
"You know what buddy?" I lost my nice, fake, work tone. "You're absolutely right. They DON'T pay me enough to put up with people like you. You have the number of someone who can, now you can leave MY store."
He muttered something under his breath that sounded like "Buckin' woosh dag" whatever that's supposed to mean.
An hour later, I get a call with a heart felt apology and pleading for the number. Apparently, en route from store to home, he lost the number. I exhaled, and put the receiver down. We haven't heard from him since.
Quite the revolutionaries we were. Now there were some skeptics, especially after hearing the amazing deal it was. After assuring the naysayers that their soul, limbs, or first born children would not be required to become a member; they were given a two week period to try out the service. The majority of them loved the service and pledged their allegiance to our spectacular cyber-space venture and the good times did roll!
A few weeks ago, a man came into my store. He had been a member of the program and rather than just cancel his account, he relied on the good name of [my company] to just stop charging for the service. Ah Capitalism...
I, as kindly as I could, explained to him that it was his responsibility to cancel his own service and that there was nothing I could do to aid him. I reassured him that I could indeed help him cancel his service now if he would like. We moved to the computer that had been set up for the sole purpose of using the online program.
In a perfect world, he would have entered his account information, I would have navigated him to the appropriate portion of the webpage, and we'd have tackled the issue as an impromptu team, possibly even high fiving at the end. Sadly, he didn't have his account information.
After a number of failed attempts, I went to fetch him the customer service number. He insisted that his information would be in our in-store computers, where the accounts of in-store members are. He, of course was wrong, which I explained. The only thing we shared with the online portion was a company name, but then again, I just work there and wouldn't know of such a thing, right?
That's what was going through this "Gentleman's" brain apparently. He was frustrated, and I could understand why he would be. He assumed that a company out to make money wouldn't continue charging him for a service he was signed up for, despite his inactivity. He assumed that I could just type in his name and fix the problem. He was wrong thus far, but after succumbing to frustration, and perhaps the fact that he was over 40 and most likely still loving with his mother, he lashed out.
"You're just jerking me around here!"
This said while I was behind the counter trying to locate the number for the online program. I ignored it.
"And what about you? Why aren't you helping?
His voice getting dangerously close to the tone of a good punch to the mouth (in a non-work setting.) He said this to my co-worker, while she was busy checking in movies.
Before she could answer, I retrieved the number. I wrote it on a piece of paper and brought it to him.
"That's it? That's the best you can do? Give me a [f]xxxing number??"
I explained again that we have no access to his online account, and the fact that he didn't know his log in information didn't help either.
"You're not helping because they don't pay you enough! That's it isn't it? Neither of you are very good at your jobs"
I had spent a good 15 minutes with this guy, trying to help him with a problem that his own stupidity/mental retardation had caused. Now he's telling me I'm not good at my job? That was the last straw.
"You know what buddy?" I lost my nice, fake, work tone. "You're absolutely right. They DON'T pay me enough to put up with people like you. You have the number of someone who can, now you can leave MY store."
He muttered something under his breath that sounded like "Buckin' woosh dag" whatever that's supposed to mean.
An hour later, I get a call with a heart felt apology and pleading for the number. Apparently, en route from store to home, he lost the number. I exhaled, and put the receiver down. We haven't heard from him since.
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