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Hung-Over Obsessive Compulsive
Yep! He came back. But I thought I would share for you my awesomeness of what happened today.
(those of you who don't feel like reading the last post, a customer spent 2 and a half hours with me taking an order to be framed in his self built frame, and then just decided to cancel it out of nowhere, after changing his mind a bajillion times. To top it off, my total profit for his order was going to be slightly under 20 dollars -- NOTHING in framing land....if I seem harsh today, you need to read the other post. Haha... I'm trying to think of a good way to describe this customer to justify the way I was talking to him....think a cross between Kevin Federline, Milhouse from the Simpsons, and those annoying kids who say "I know you are but what am I?")
Me: Sitting back in the frame shop, doing my bizz-nass
OCD: Walking around the corner.
***
Me: Oh. Hi.
OCD: Hey. Do you have my stuff?
Me: We still weren't clear on what you wanted.
*15 more minutes of decisions, so I give up being helpful*
OCD: Do you think I should just not put a mat on this?
Me: *insert monotone voice here* Yes. Leave it the way it is.
OCD: ....really?
Me: Yes. It looks fine.
OCD: Oh...ok... well then you just cut a piece of glass for me and it will be done.
Me: OK. I will do that. *I start to walk away*
OCD: BUT MAKE IT FIT AS TIGHT AS HUMANLY POSSIBLE.
Me: Yeah, OK.
*I spend 15 minutes cutting glass. I cut out 6 different pieces -- none of which were tight enough for him. Finally, I let the smart ass in me take over. I cut a piece of glass for his frame just as he stated -- as tight as humanly possible. The glass was stuck in his frame. It wasn't budging! I had to punch it to get it in! I bring the frame out*
OCD: Um..wow...that is really tight...
Me: You said as tight as possible.
OCD: Well...I can't even...take it out now...
Me: Yeah. That's what happens when you do that.
OCD: ...I don't want this.
Me: Then go somewhere else. I can't do anymore for you.
OCD: What? You can't just try again?
Me: We've cut 7 different pieces of glass for you. How is the next one going to be any different?
OCD: Just try it again.
Me: No.
OCD: Why won't you just try it?
Me: Because this is a waste of my time and my materials. Now take that piece of glass and go. If you want it done a specific way that is beyond what we can do, you need to either do it yourself or find someone who can. I am giving you this piece of glass. If you can find something else, then good. If not, you have glass. You're lucky I am doing this much for you, since yesterday you took away a sale from me right in front of my eyes, and now I just lost your sale too. Now go, before I call a manager up here.
OCD: Oh. Ok. Thanks for your help.
You have no idea how bad I wanted to page a manager for this douchebag. He talked to me for 45 minutes about his job as the Schwann's man. Now, I like a good frozen dairy product as well as the next a-hole, and I respect the people that do those jobs. But I don't talk to people for that long about my lame job. They don't care! I am not a therapist! I may as well be one for what I go through.
Can I mention one underlying factor that I sort of forgot? I didn't sleep last night. I guess I was kind of cranky (but I am still glad that I was).
(those of you who don't feel like reading the last post, a customer spent 2 and a half hours with me taking an order to be framed in his self built frame, and then just decided to cancel it out of nowhere, after changing his mind a bajillion times. To top it off, my total profit for his order was going to be slightly under 20 dollars -- NOTHING in framing land....if I seem harsh today, you need to read the other post. Haha... I'm trying to think of a good way to describe this customer to justify the way I was talking to him....think a cross between Kevin Federline, Milhouse from the Simpsons, and those annoying kids who say "I know you are but what am I?")
Me: Sitting back in the frame shop, doing my bizz-nass
OCD: Walking around the corner.
***
Me: Oh. Hi.
OCD: Hey. Do you have my stuff?
Me: We still weren't clear on what you wanted.
*15 more minutes of decisions, so I give up being helpful*
OCD: Do you think I should just not put a mat on this?
Me: *insert monotone voice here* Yes. Leave it the way it is.
OCD: ....really?
Me: Yes. It looks fine.
OCD: Oh...ok... well then you just cut a piece of glass for me and it will be done.
Me: OK. I will do that. *I start to walk away*
OCD: BUT MAKE IT FIT AS TIGHT AS HUMANLY POSSIBLE.
Me: Yeah, OK.
*I spend 15 minutes cutting glass. I cut out 6 different pieces -- none of which were tight enough for him. Finally, I let the smart ass in me take over. I cut a piece of glass for his frame just as he stated -- as tight as humanly possible. The glass was stuck in his frame. It wasn't budging! I had to punch it to get it in! I bring the frame out*
OCD: Um..wow...that is really tight...
Me: You said as tight as possible.
OCD: Well...I can't even...take it out now...
Me: Yeah. That's what happens when you do that.
OCD: ...I don't want this.
Me: Then go somewhere else. I can't do anymore for you.
OCD: What? You can't just try again?
Me: We've cut 7 different pieces of glass for you. How is the next one going to be any different?
OCD: Just try it again.
Me: No.
OCD: Why won't you just try it?
Me: Because this is a waste of my time and my materials. Now take that piece of glass and go. If you want it done a specific way that is beyond what we can do, you need to either do it yourself or find someone who can. I am giving you this piece of glass. If you can find something else, then good. If not, you have glass. You're lucky I am doing this much for you, since yesterday you took away a sale from me right in front of my eyes, and now I just lost your sale too. Now go, before I call a manager up here.
OCD: Oh. Ok. Thanks for your help.
You have no idea how bad I wanted to page a manager for this douchebag. He talked to me for 45 minutes about his job as the Schwann's man. Now, I like a good frozen dairy product as well as the next a-hole, and I respect the people that do those jobs. But I don't talk to people for that long about my lame job. They don't care! I am not a therapist! I may as well be one for what I go through.
Can I mention one underlying factor that I sort of forgot? I didn't sleep last night. I guess I was kind of cranky (but I am still glad that I was).
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