Getting accepted as a patient by a new primary care physician required an updated blood test, so I attended to this first thing on Tuesday morning.
Voting is very much more important, but I had done that some time ago.
Although my new physician works at the Greenwich clinic, the blood test can be done in Cambridge where I no longer feel like persona non-grata, there having been a complete change of personnel since the days of my altercation with the unreasonable witch who caused me to lose my cool.
For the most part I am a very patient person, but when challenged with stupidity I am inclined to get irritated and just occasionally, I blow my stack. So to speak.
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Customer services representatives are expected to keep a cork in it when dealing with the public and I did, except just once.
To support the enormous cost of the British Airways Terminal at JFK, we were obliged to handle all sorts of other carriers. Some were international airlines of good repute, like South African Airways and TAP, Air Portugal, but there was a whole range of lesser, charter airlines.
For a while even something called the Trump Shuttle. Shudder.
Then, briefly in 1974-5 there was Flightways. They advertised 5 flights daily during the week, between JFK and Philadelphia and 3 flights on weekends.
The idea, I believe, was that passengers could connect with a Concorde flight. Sounded like a plan, except that Flightways had only two aircraft. Small, commuter aeroplanes which are notoriously sensitive to bad weather.
Periodically, mechanical issues arose.
This was a brand new company, with very little cash and not regulated by IATA, so when things went wrong – oh well. We did the handling, but BA was not responsible for the problems of distressed Flightways passengers.
One day I had the misfortune to be confronted by one who got progressively more angry and annoying, till I threw his ticket down on the counter and told him to take it and get the hell out of there.
Not sure if he was more surprised, or me. I marched off to the ladies room where I confessed to a supervisor who happened to be fixing her hair. She both gasped and laughed. Flightways was a nuisance that didn’t last.
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Whatever made me believe handling the public was something I’d want to do? I think I’d had the ridiculously naive idea that people would be reasonable if only you were polite to them and offered good reasons for the problems we caused them. After all – that was how I behaved!
What an ignorant little twit I was.
A first adventure in customer service was as a check-out clerk in our local supermarket. It is really pretty hard to mess that up and how angry are people likely to get over the price of groceries? They may well, these days, but back then goods were sensibly priced. For a long time I had most prices memorised. Numbers seem to have always been important in my life.
Airline passengers are a whole other matter and I joined BA the year Air Traffic Control staged a prolonged work-to-rule which put things seriously out of sync.
The company hired a lot of us that summer to replace a whole group of senior personnel who were going to staff Los Angeles which BA was just adding to our network.
There was no time to train any of us. We were barely introduced to the workforce and expected to learn on the job, assuming someone would coach us. God bless those who took pity on us. Many looked down their noses at the annoying newbies.
Chaotic and exhausting as those days were, we actually managed to have fun.
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One of the many things I learned was that the basics of customer service are apparently not common sense. People, it seems, have to be taught how to be polite.
Later, when I’d become a supervisor, I was called to assist one day and the agent said to me, in full hearing of the passenger:
“This woman says…”
Cringing, I made a note to have a private word with the girl, but the passenger, an Englishwoman, spoke up herself:
“Excuse me, but that is rude. I am a lady!“
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They don’t solve most problems, but good manners and consideration go a long way to keeping tempers cool.
Registering this morning for the blood draw, I came to the conclusion that I do not know the rules, because I have the same experience every time.
The registration desks I speak of are a row of individual booths. The agents can see you in a mirror and you wait at one end to be called over.
Now, when I was a check-in agent, if a departing passenger had left me with a problem to sort out, I looked up at the next person on line and said: “I’ll be right with you.” or something of the sort, to let them know I was aware of them and not just ignoring them.
No such thing happens in those clinics. The other day I was the first person through the door, but the agent sat at her desk silently, clearly aware of me, but determinedly making me wait.
Same thing again this morning and it was not just one agent ignoring me but three. I don’t mind at all waiting if there is a reason, but often I begin to wonder if I’ve become invisible. Should I jump around and make a noise?
Perhaps someone can tell me what I am doing wrong?
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I’m sure that they like the power. They have a relatively unimportant job, and the only satisfaction they seem to get is to exercise what little power they have over the most defenceless people in the building, the patients. I think it is best to ignore them, and make them feel that you don’t care about not being called forward.
Best wishes, Pete.
And we alone are responsible for abdicating any power of or own to people who don’t give a *^%#.
Kindness doesn’t cost a thing, yet people are so rude. You should honestly speak up, because when you don’t people assume they can walk over you!
Forget the manners. We live in a foreign country. It doesn’t matter if it’s blood work, driving license bureau, county tax office, Amazon or any other multitude of services I rarely encounter anyone, in person or on the phone, who speaks the language I grew up with. Even with hearing aids in I need, as Robin Williams suggested, subtitles. I ontovek your wytals. Say again? I got my driving license renewed by a woman who didn’t understand a word I said and her best effort was to memorize three phrases – ID? Sign da ellowbox and back up for picture. Period. And those commands all needed subtitles. My primary physician’s assistant’s accent is so thick I just nod. That has cost me a critical BP refill. There is one person in a crew of 6 at the local Taco Bell who speaks enough English to take drive through orders. I have defaulted to going in and using the kiosk. I spent my life in various forms of customer service in a niche business and I’m telling you it’s a different world.
Wait to be called and then say “Sorry, won’t keep you a minute” and take your phone out…
Good idea!
Such an interesting perspective! Sometimes the simplest ideas are the most meaningful, and a little common sense can make a big difference in everyday life. Thanks for sharing your thoughts!