Customer Disservice

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Complex Original

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I never really cared much for customer service to be honest. In fact, it felt off-putting and made me uncomfortable when sales staff really waited on me. But then I went to Japan. Japan is to customer service what Voltron is to robotic teams that patrol the galaxy. Of course being the asshole that I am, the 7 days I had in Tokyo were not spent taking in the beautiful culture and sights of Japan. FUCK THAT SHIT I WAS SHOPPING UNTIL I WAS DROPPING. Sometimes I’d try clothing on, and out of nowhere, a sales associate would appear with another colorway or size. It was amazing! Like they were Batman. Really well dressed, friendly Batmen. That smiled a lot. Instead of smoke bombs and Batarangs they had awesome jackets and North Face Purple Label. They even knew to push the “Japan exclusive” stuff on me. Yet I never felt the pressure of a hard sell. It felt like they were just excited to show me the things they had to offer. And boy, did I eat that shit up. Paying by putting your money on the little leather trays makes me feel classy as fuck so thank you, Japan. One time, the store didn’t have any of a particular jacket in my size. Which makes sense since I’m not really a Japanese brand’s target demographic. Instead of being like, “Nah son, we don’t have size ‘kind of overweight for his height American.' Have you tried Torrid?” the sales guy apologized and then walked me to the other location, which was, like, four blocks away and got me sorted out.

I thought that this newfound appreciation for high levels of customer service would empower my subsequent shopping experiences. And it has, sort of, but have you ever noticed you let some people get away with way more than you do others? Do you have two pets and one is a clear favorite? Maybe even kids? It’s an inevitability. If we didn’t determine favorites, how would I know I like Totino’s Pizza Rolls more than Bagel Bites? I’m not saying I’ll turn down Bagel Bites, but I have a favorite frozen pizza derivative snack. Just like I have a favorite cousin. (He’s the one at family functions that always drives with me to go get the extra ranch dressing because family functions always require a lot of salad dressings, don’t they?) Unfortunately, I have found that my predilection for picking favorites can royally backfire.

I may not wait in line for Supreme, but goddamn if they don’t treat me like shit and I still give ‘em my money.

I have favorite stores and brands and I will shop at those stores regardless of the shitty music, snotty staff or inane location that serve as obstacles between my cash and the stuff I want to spend my cash on. (Uh, you've got a "destination store?" So it's really fucking hard to get to? Great. Thanks, bro.) Do you guys remember Nom de Guerre? The first time I went shopping there I was like FUCK YEAH I FOUND THIS JOINT LIKE I FOUND CARMEN SAN DIEGO. I USED MY ALMANAC AND EVERYTHING. But because a certain store is the only place in North America that sells this one type of canvas back pack I’ll go all the way to some godforsaken place where coffee costs as much as weed, French bulldogs litter the street, and people from Missouri get sailing tattoos.

I’ll be the first to admit branding works. And not just in the crazy line around the block for some sneakers type of branding. Do not front like you didn’t refresh Tres Bien’s site for Yeezy 2's like a frat boy circa 1999 trying get Dave Matthews tickets. I may not wait in line for Supreme, but goddamn if they don’t treat me like shit and I still give ‘em my money. It’s like Supreme punches me, and when people tell me to get out of the relationship, I’m like, “Supreme only hits me because it loves me so much.” Real talk, I’m 30 years old and sometimes I still don’t feel like asking the shop kid if they have my size in the fitted hats. Anywhere else if the kid rolled his eyes and was like, “Nah, no 7 and 1/2s. You've got a big ass head, dude.” I’d be like, "OH YEAH SON? WHAT MAKES YOU THINK YOU’RE SO COOL? BECAUSE YOU’RE WEARING A ‘COST FUCKED MADONNA T-SHIRT’? WERE YOU EVEN ALIVE WHEN THAT STATEMENT WAS PROVOCATIVE? THE MADONNA YOU KNOW MAKES OUT WITH BRITNEY SPEARS AND SHIT. BACK THEN MADONNA FUCKED BLACK DUDES AND HAD CRUCIFIXION SCENES IN PEPSI COMMERCIALS. SHIT WAS MAD REAL. ANYWAYS IF YOU WERE REALLY COOL YOU’D HAVE A ‘SUICIDE REVS’ T-SHIRT. Instead, I’m just like “Oh word? Cool, I’ll try back later.” And after I’m halfway down Lafayette, I’ll realize that rude motherfucker didn’t even look in the stockroom for sizes.

YOU ARE BETWEEN ME AND POOPING IN MY OWN HOME. I HATE YOU.

But if you’re a multi-million dollar corporation responsible for flying passengers all over the globe? And the flight is delayed because of a crazy hurricane-like storm over New York that has Brooklynites freaking the fuck out and buying the cheap water in plastic jugs instead of coconut water? I DON’T CARE I’M FUCKING TIRED AND WANT TO GO HOME SO I CAN POOP IN MY OWN TOILET. YOU UNDERESTIMATE THE COMFORT ASSOCIATED WITH SUCH AN ACTION, BUT AFTER TRAVELING FOR A WEEK OR MORE, IT CAN BECOME A CHERISHED MEMORY OF HOME. YOU ARE BETWEEN ME AND POOPING IN MY OWN HOME. I HATE YOU. I DON’T CARE THAT I BOOKED THE VERY LAST FLIGHT OUT BECAUSE I WANT TO SPEND AS MUCH TIME WITH MY FRIENDS AS POSSIBLE AND THAT DELAYS CAN’T BE REMEDIED BY SWITCHING TO ANOTHER FLIGHT. I WILL MURDER ONE EMPLOYEE FOR EACH AND EVERY DELAY. MY PERSONAL GOAL IS TO HECKLE YOUR AIRLINE FOR THE REST OF MY LIVING DAYS BECAUSE YOU MADE ME WAIT IN AN AIRPORT THAT HAS A FIVE GUYS, TACO BELL AND PANDA EXPRESS. MY OWN NEIGHBORHOOD DOESN’T EVEN HAVE SUCH A BOUNTY OF FOOD OPTIONS, BUT I’M STILL INCENSED THAT YOU WERE NOT BETTER PREPARED FOR THIS FREAK ACT OF NATURE. I DEMAND A FOOD VOUCHER.

So from now on I’m taking a stance to treat all stores equally—I will expect the same level of service from all of them, even Supreme. And I'll always have the option of flying to Japan if I really want to be treated well. But don’t delay my flight because I will catch a body for that.

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