The art of service disappearing fast
/The Boston Herald
BEVERLY BECKHAM
Yes, there are two sides to every story; and yes, people have problems you'll never know about; and yes, not everyone can walk around wearing a smile.
But really, must these people go into business?
Let me begin by saying, I've grown accustomed to no service. It hardly bothers me anymore. For example: Last week I called Caldor's to ask if the store carried fax paper. I was put on hold and after eight minutes hung up because no one got back to me.
Did I mind? Not really. I went to Radio Shack instead.
I seldom complain when I pull in for gas under a "full service" sign and no one asks if I want my oil and water checked or window washed. I'm grateful just to have the gas pumped. And I don't get upset anymore when I drive through McDonalds and ask for extra ketchup and get no ketchup at all. I've learned to enjoy my french fries plain, because this is the way things are. No service is the norm.
But surly service and grumpy service and service with a sigh. Are we supposed to tolerate these, too?
Two Sundays ago my family went to Jimbo's for lunch. My mother-in-law asked the waiter for a glass of water. You would have thought the man had to go to a well to draw it. You would have thought a glass of water with a meal is something totally out of the ordinary.
He served the water - he served the entire meal - with a why-are-you-bothering-me attitude. We watched him with other diners and he didn't seem much better. My 20-year-old, who waitresses at El Torito, said he was the rudest waiter she had ever seen. Still, we tipped him, 15 percent because what if...
What if he were in the middle of some personal crisis. What if he were sick or if someone he loved were sick. What if his car had just been repossessed, or if he had been evicted from his home or if his house had burned down?
A few nights later my daughter and I went shopping for a bathing suit. We tried Filenes. My daughter found what she wanted and bought the suit from a saleswoman who was swamped with customers but was nice to each one. Then we walked to Lord and Taylor. I tried on eight bathing suits, found one that fit, hung up the rest and proceeded to the cashier.
"Where should I put these?" I asked, carrying the suits I didn't want.
"All those?" the saleswoman said, glaring at me.
Was I supposed to put them back? Even at Marshalls the salespeople do that. Isn't Lord and Taylor supposed to be a cut above?
Yes, but what if... the woman had had an argument with her husband that day? What if her daughter had moved away from home? What if house had burned down?
"You want me to put them back?" I asked.
"No, I'll do it," she said, taking them and sighing.
Last Sunday I approached the service desk at Shaws. I asked the woman there if it were possible to buy two rolls of quarters. She nodded, rang a bell and waited for someone to appear. No one did.
"She must be on break," the woman said, without apology, without a smile, without any emotion at all. "If you have shopping to do, why don't you do it and come back."
I did. The woman rang the bell again and another woman appeared. I wrote a check and got my quarters. No smile. No have a nice day. No "thank you for waiting." No eye contact. No contact at all.
Yes, but what if... she'd had a bad morning. What if she were coming down with the flu? What if she had more important things on her mind than dealing with me?
What if I stopped shopping there? What if every time I didn't get service I refused to pay? Would things change then?
I don't know. I haven't a clue.
But let me end this one-sided diatribe with an example of exemplary service. A few months ago an old woman cashed a check at Canton Co-operative Bank.
She walked away from the window, counted her money, then returned to the teller.
"I think you made a mistake, dear," she said to the young woman. "I believe I'm $10 short."
The girl took the money from the woman and counted it.
"No, Mrs. ---," she said. "It's all here." Then she counted it again so the woman could see.
"I am so sorry," the woman said, shaking her head. "I must be getting senile. I can't even count anymore."
"No you're not. This happens all the time," the girl assured her. "Sometimes the money sticks. See," she said, showing the woman. "That's what happened."
The young teller had it in her power to scold the old woman, to make her feel silly and worthless. Instead, she showed her respect, and made the woman feel valued.
Valuing the customer and showing respect, that's all good service is.