The Invisible Husband had to go to the post office today to pick up an Express Mail package. He had to go himself because he lost the little package retrieval slip the mail carrier left on the doorstep (but that's another story) and he couldn't send me instead.
He told me that the man at the counter was really, really unpleasant. Told him they wouldn't be able to locate the package without a receipt, that he needed to get out of the way so other customers could get to the service window, etc. IH lost his temper and asked for a supervisor who found his package in less time than it took the first guy to argue with him about how impossible it would be to find it. Yay, happy ending.
This is the post office branch where the POB I maintain for freelancing is located, so I'm there a lot. I asked IH to describe the counterman, since I know most of them. He did and I told him I was surprised, since I always got great care from this particular federal employee. Then the light dawned.
I said something to explain the difference in customer service and the below image (but much better illustrated, like a Far Side cartoon) popped into my head and I just had to put pencil to paper.
The man of the house is our resident artist and the GirlChild is his able apprentice, but they had a dungeon to run (WoW) so mama had to do for herself...
He told me that the man at the counter was really, really unpleasant. Told him they wouldn't be able to locate the package without a receipt, that he needed to get out of the way so other customers could get to the service window, etc. IH lost his temper and asked for a supervisor who found his package in less time than it took the first guy to argue with him about how impossible it would be to find it. Yay, happy ending.
This is the post office branch where the POB I maintain for freelancing is located, so I'm there a lot. I asked IH to describe the counterman, since I know most of them. He did and I told him I was surprised, since I always got great care from this particular federal employee. Then the light dawned.
I said something to explain the difference in customer service and the below image (but much better illustrated, like a Far Side cartoon) popped into my head and I just had to put pencil to paper.
The man of the house is our resident artist and the GirlChild is his able apprentice, but they had a dungeon to run (WoW) so mama had to do for herself...
My wife says she gets better service when she puts a big pair of hooters on the counter...
