You know what’s bullshit?
When someone says, “I’d love to help you, but my hands are tied, I can’t.”
I can’t take that charge off your bill.
I don’t have the authority to change your flight.
I can’t let you in, we’re at capacity. And you’re wearing ugly-ass shoes.
I can’t bring you sushi, we only do sashimi.*
(*The last one challenged by my friend Avo, my comrade-in-arms in the fight for off-menu rights.)
OK, sometimes the person could lose their job for saying yes.
I know. I once said yes to a barback who pleaded for just one free draught beer after his shift, and lost my bartending job. But that was mostly because I sucked a bag of dongs as a bartender.
Most of the time, the person saying “I can’t, it’s the rules,” is really saying “I can’t because I don’t want to all that much.”
Policy may be written in stone, but whether or not to stick to it is a matter of some person’s mood.
I’ll use yesterday as an example.
The day started out a nightmare.
There were no watermelon chunks on the shelf at Citarella.
That’s not the whole nightmare, but it’s part of it.
I’m a bit “Rain Man” when it comes to my routines.
Morning watermelon chunks are my Wapner. Time for watermelon chunks. Time for watermelon chunks.
Yeah, there are other options in the cut-up fruit department. Mango? Had that all winter. Citrus sections or cantaloupe? Remind me of a breakfast buffet at a Radisson.
So I did something my husband keeps telling me to do, because of my “plastic waste footprint:” bought a quarter watermelon and brought it home to cut up myself.
I felt very DIY and eco-virtuous, even though I cut it on a paper towel to save myself the trouble of rinsing off a cutting board.
I put my chunks in a bowl and carried them smugly over to the table, all ready to eat with my iced coffee. And then, took a bite and gagged.
You know what I tasted? A cheesy nightclub and/or a public restroom.
I tasted 1999 and bad decisions and cheapness.
Whoever cut that watermelon was either doused in the same cologne my salsa-instructor ex-boyfriend used to wear (and the same amount) or had just washed his hands with liquid pink disinfectant hand soap. Neither of which you ever want in your nostrils or mouth.
I’ve also had watermelon that was cut on the same board as an onion, which is awful, but this was worse.
So this morning, when I was at the register with my two containers of watermelon chunks — because not having them yesterday drove me into “scarcity mode” and I needed to double up –I asked to see the manager.
I told her about yesterday’s watermelon. She asked, “Do you have the receipt?”
No, I didn’t have the receipt. Some days, I make a point of saying “I don’t need the receipt” because I don’t feel like having it handed to me. I’m that lazy.
“If you had the receipt, I could give you a refund.”
“I know,” I said. “I just wanted to let you know for future reference that your food handlers are getting some scent on the watermelon.”
She shrugged and repeated, “Well, I can’t do anything without the receipt. It’s policy.”
She didn’t get it.
I was trying to do a public service by telling her about the watermelon. Not get money back.
OK, fine, I also wanted money back. I’d been hoping she’d offer me a free thing of watermelon chunks.
“It never occurred to me to take a receipt. I get watermelon here every single day and never have a problem. Is there any way you could offer me one of these as a courtesy?”
She shrugged again.
“OK, you can have both of those for the price of one. Carmen, charge her for just one.”
Victory!!!
When someone tells you, “I can’t break the policy, my hands are tied”?
Don’t believe that. Get your free watermelon chunks.
Now you.
When’s the last time you heard “I can’t, it’s policy”?
Did you get that person to change their mind?
How do you feel about rules?
Do you like to see them bent, or are you a goody-goody?
Are you a tattle tale?
TELL ME IN THE COMMENTS.
First, let me say that how wonderful it feels to know that I am not the only person in the world who cuts their fruit up on paper towels because they are too stinkin’ lazy to clean the countertop. Hallelujah!
Second, this post is on the money with the notion that people CAN bend policy and they don’t because they either don’t feel like it or the don’t care. When I know I’m in the right about something I typically stand my ground. If they continue to be a butthead about it, then I have been know to go a little Joker-Heath-Ledger-style on their ass. 😉 Great post! Thanks Laura!
Public Service Announcement: All you folks messin’ with food servers are eating at your own peril.
In high school, I once visited a friend who was working at a deli chain that shall remain nameless. While I as there a man got uppity about how he didn’t like his sandwich. My friend offered him another sandwich and a free large soda. She also upgraded my small soda to large for free. A few minutes later she ran over to my table and whispered, “Did you drink that yet?!!” I responded, “No.” Her response? “THANK GOODNESS. That was meant for him.” Later she offered him free fries…laced with you don’t want to know.
Be extra friendly to the folks who make things you put in your body!
Great story, Laura!
This actually happened to me yesterday at the Pancake Cafe.
I of course ordered the Huevos Rancheros. My usual. But today I was feeling a bit squirrelly and asked, “Can you sub the hashbrowns for pancakes? I’ll pay the difference.”
I am at the mother-flippin Pancake Cafe aren’t I?
“Sorry I can’t do that.” was the reply from the young waitress followed abruptly by “do you want onions or cheese on those hashbrowns.” (that you don’t want. Huh buddy, huh?)
I gave up too soon and retreated to my plate of ho-hum hashbrowns and left the store devoid of any beloved pancakes…
The waitress got a $2 tip on a $20 check. Things could have gone swimmingly for both of us if she could simply have charged me for a couple pancakes.
And to any aspiring restauranteur, if you have the word “pancake” in your name make sure that every dish has the option of your beloved house frickin pancakes. {/rant]
Thank you for your article, I needed to hear this today.
Found it interesting that your article popped up in my email just as I ended a really unsatisfying phone call to code enforcement, just trying to get a little justice. I may not win this one but I asked for her name and to be put through to the supervisor anyway. Of course I got the answering machine. If I do not hear back by tomorrow I will just move up the ladder. It has to do with a noise ordinance issue, a battle which it seems I have lost before I start since it is “during the day”. I believe there are special circumstances that at a minimum could be addressed for the greater good of the neighborhood so I will persist like a thorn in their bony little bottoms….
Let me begin by saying “I’m an excellent driver.” I’m also Rain Man about my daily food choices. It is literally the end of the world when my rhythm is interrupted by poor planning at my local grocery store. My main vice is Noosa yogurt. I know, high in sugar…blah blah blah. I NEED it. I’m trying to quit. I digress, I just had something similar happen to me with GROUPON! I ordered this killer bathing suit back in 1974 and it still wasn’t here 2 days ago!!! I told them I wanted my $$$ back and he said I could only get “Groupon Credit”. Since I’ve only used Groupon 2 times, EVER, and they were both major fails, I said NO! I want my $$$ back. He said he couldn’t, so I asked to speak to his Supervisor. Then that guy’s Supervisor AND FINALLY I got my $$$ back. What people don’t understand is that I LOVE a battle. The bathing suit was only $27, BTW. 🙂
Well played!
If you are cool to people, they are usually cool back.
A billion years ago when I did customer service, I got yelled at routinely by people who wanted me to do stuff I couldn’t actually do for them, but since I actually cared about their problem (and it was sort of my JOB to care) if I couldn’t help them I would get them to the person who could.
PLUS, I would explain the situation for them to the person who COULD help them, because nothing is more frustrating as a customer than having to explain the same problem to 8 different people while you get transferred around.
Occasionally, I’d still have irrational requests – one lady told me she wanted to return her massage chair for a full refund because she had a “douser spiritually measure the electricity” and concluded that it was literally “sucking her life energy” away.
I also had Waylon Jennings’ wife irritated with me because she had to pay $75 to fix her out of warranty chair – she pointedly reminded me that she was MRS. WAYLON JENNINGS. Like 8 times. I told her that I am Black and I don’t listen to country music, but I’d be happy to set up her repair for her.
But there were tons of other customers that I gave free shipping to, free bonus products to, or totally went an extra mile for because why not? If you can do something nice for someone and it is your JOB to, just do it.
I needed a good laugh today…love it!
Also, I’m a Brit and we are not known to be complainers, (gagging on a ghastly meal and the waiter comes by…’how is it?’ and I reply ‘oh, it’s lovely thank you’). Yes, good manners and not hurting someone’s feelings rank super high in the UK!
But 5 years in the good old US of A and I’m standing up for my rights more and more. Yeah!!!
OK I totally get where you are coming from, however…..as the person who had the sucky customer service/manager/sales person job thingy for more years than my education should have allowed, I can tell you most people are merciless bullies when it comes to this. Asking politely is one thing; swearing, demanding and name calling is more the norm sadly–and not by the people you would most imagine. And then there were the “I’m going over you head” folks. Loved those ones the best. ‘Sorry Dickhead, if I could strap that oversized sofa you ordered two days ago and carry it to your house for your dinner party even though I told you (and made you sign a form acknowledging it) that it would 2 weeks for delivery, I would. But guess what? I can’t. So yeah, call my boss. She’s in the corporate office in California. She’ll carry it for ya’. You might even get a courtesy gift card out of it for being such an entitled ass. #retailrewardsbadbehavior. Yeah, so my take is, ask politely if it’s reasonable. Otherwise, take your bad mood elsewhere.
So when my mother died, I spent a month cleaning out her apartment. One of her favorite foods was watermelon any way you want it.
Downstairs from her apartment was a D’agostinos that sold cut up watermelon in plastic containers. There wasn’t that much taste to them, but they were refreshing, and I pretty much lived on “watermelon chunks” for that month.
My parking bill was something to marvel at: $1,000. Had I known I was going to spend a month instead of the week I had planned on spending, I could’ve bought a month’s worth of parking and saved about $400.
I only learned this when I got my car to leave. So I asked the guy if I couldn’t get the monthly rate given that I had stayed a month. But of course, they were much more interested in collecting $1,000 from an orphan, than giving me a break and still making $600.
I really leaned on them because this seemed like an irrational refusal. But they held firm and had my car and keys. The only sense I could make of it–aside from the greed–was that they couldn’t store my car in the bowels of the garage, but had to keep it somewhat toward the front where the other daily renters were kept for easy access.
But still…
I wish I started my day off with watermelon chunks. I don’t have that kind of willpower. I usually start it off with fancy organic Wheaties covered with chocolate granola, or toast with peanut butter and chocolate chips melted on top.
Because chocolate…? Tell your hater reader I won your feminine power back by loving on chocolate in the comments. -_-
Okay so last year I went through a ton of toll roads in Texas and then forgot about it, and all my toll bills went to an old address, and by the time I got them, the bill was $477.38, or something ridiculous like that. I found out that the customer service people aren’t supposed to hang up on you unless you get belligerent, so I just acted meek for about 40 minutes, until the lady *suddenly* had the power to change the fees and reduced my charge to $9.47 or so. It wasn’t fun for either of us, but it worked.
Oh, there’s no willpower here. Before I even get to the watermelon chunks, I’ve cruised past every place that might have almond croissant or “fruilatti” – that’s like a smoothie but with more sugar – samples.
I have to try being meek. I usually go with strident/ shrill.
God, I can’t stand it when women give away their power by sucking a bag of dongs.
This morning my health insurance told me that in order for me to get my foot x-rayed (because I dropped a full bottle of Herbal Essences on it in the shower, and screamed NOT in a way the commercials say you will when using Herbal Essences), I would have to see my primary care physician, then wait 3 days for approval for an xray. To which I said, “NFW,” pushed harder and got approval to go to Urgent Care (APPROVAL?????).
And now I’m gonna see about a false advertising lawsuit against Herbal Essences. Wish me luck!
See? If insurance people are persuadable, anyone is.
That sounds like the most painful thing ever. I can stub my toe on a pillow, so I can only imagine the impact of a shampoo bottle.
You should make it a class action suit, and tell two friends…and so on…No wait, that’s Faberge, isn’t it?
Did you miss the opportunity to say to the clerk: “These watermelon chunks blow chunks!”
HOW DID I MISS THAT? She would’ve loved it. Next time, though I might workshop it at Gristedes first.
As much as I loved this post: she may have been thinking that you wanted direct money back and that might be different than comping you the free chunks. Mmm free chunks.
Btw, kudos for thinking about your plastic waste. Or half thinking about it. Whatever.
Oh no, there was nothing about direct money back. It was more, “I can’t make anything happen without a receipt.”
I am doing half my best to half-save the planet. Thank you for the kudos.
Sometimes this works without having to say anything. For example, last night, about the same time you were settling on your couch to watch Modern Family, I ordered my usual meal at Hu, almond crusted chicken tenders and a side of kale salad. When I pulled out a bill with the wrong denomination to pay for it, the clerk informed me that I misread the price of the tenders as something that was not astronomical. When I said, “wow” and then pulled out more cash, she said “And since you are a student I will, of course, apply the ten percent student discount.” Needless to say, the last time I was a student was probably a decade before the last time she was an embryo.
I didn’t know you you were a regular at Hu. I’d meet you at Hu! Though I’m not a fan of their kale salad. Looks better than it is.
You say “the last time she was an embryo” like she’s been one several times. Is that what a paleo diet can do for you?
I think she could tell you were a student of life.
So if I say “the last time I was a student” that implies that I was a student several times? I believe I was only a student once (for a long stretch of time). The last time can certainly be the only time. I’ve only been to Paris once, but I feel it is my right to say in casual conversation “the last time I saw Paris…”
And what’s good about their kale salad is the dressing, which tastes better than it looks.
Also, as you can probably tell, I’m kinda chatty.
So by the time I have to ask for a refund on anything, the store staff already know me.
And I know them. Where they’re from. What they like.
I’ve also already spoken to them in their native language, even if it’s English.
So they know I’m not pulling a scam.
Most importantly, they like me. Hard to believe, but they do.
“Mr. Schwartz, our mistake. Come with me into the back and let me show you our premier cru watermelon chunks. We only get a few of these each month, so we save them for our best customers. They cost more, but they will make you think it’s 1958 and your drinking the real real Coke and slurping on real watermelon. Just don’t swallow the seeds or a watermelon patch will grow in your stomach.”
I always do it the way you do it.
However…
Most watermelon chunks do not taste as good as the watermelon of old.
My chef brother, who dearly loves watermelon, says he no longer buys the chunks or the whole melon precisely for this reason.
I’m not so picky, but he is right.
“Watermelon of old” doesn’t sound so tasty either, though.
Well, the WOO doesn’t good any more, true.
Nor do I as much as I once did.