Note: I am going to start a series of compaints that will reveal the true nature of my COFdom (COF = Cranky Old Fart). Through this forum I will air my rants about rudeness, injustice, and the general unfairness of life. At 60, I've just had enough. REALLY(?).
Mom took her 9/80 day yesterday, while I dutifully came to work. No grumpiness there. I got out of the house and generally felt good being busy. In the afternoon she had a hair appointment and we did the usual thing of me going in for a haircut during the time that the color is setting in her hair. Once that was done, I had another 45 minutes to wait for the rinse out, cut, & style. Mom handed me her new iPad and asked me to take it to the kiosk in the mall to have one of those protective covers placed on the screen.
As I approached the kiosk, the young man (mid 20's something) was slouching in his chair and messing with a phone in his lap. I stepped up, obviously there for a reason, and there was that subtle berat of a pause of indifference before he put his phone down and acknowledged my presence -REALLY(?). When he did acknowledge me he didn't look at me and didn't engage in any back and forth. No, how are you today. No, this is what it costs. No, this is what you get for the service. Nothing. I told him what I wanted, he took the iPad, and without further interaction went about putting the film on it -REALLY(?).
Now I recognize that I didn't come here for, nor really expect, witty reparte, but some human to human interaction and nicety would have been pleasant. Just a bit of, 'this is what I am doing, this is what to do with this, etc.,' would have been better than being ignored. Still we had not crossed into curmudgeonland at this point.
I noticed that part of the failure to look at me was dure to the fact that his attention was on his phone. I also noticed that every few seconds he stopped what he was doing on the iPad to do a couple of pokes on the phone. I could see the screen and realized that it was a pool table game and he was lining up shots and knocking the balls around the table -REALLY(?). You are blatantly going to make me stand here while you take time to continue playing a game - REALLY(?)?
I struggled not to say something. I told myself the following: a) the whole process takes maybe 3 minutes, b) if you add the time he takes to play his game, it may have added 15-20 seconds, c) I really have nowhere else to go that should make me impatient, and d) if you say something, he will simply think you're a D and be even more deliberately casual toward the work he is doing.
Still, I was the customer, I might have been in a hurry, I was paying $45 for a piece of plastic to be put on the iPad screen. Some civility and attention is not too much to expect. The fact that he was now taking away MY/my time (the time that I have to spend doing other things that I want to do) and My/his time (the time that I am paying him for his service) felt like pretty much of a yuck fou statement in my face.
We have come to be a society of open disrespect and disinterest. We sit in meetings where people expect our full attention and run both business and personal email. I will admit that I have even followed the ESPN feed for football games, while in a meeting. We get on airplanes and ignore one another, while texting, talking, and playing on our electronic umbilicals. Granted, there is a bit of a social contract that, if you are going to take my time, you need to make it worth my time, or I will check out. Our electronics give us the opportunity to do something useful with that lost time.
Despite my own admitted sins, this irritated me. I wanted to say, 'I get it. You are are working a lame job, sitting in a lame mall box, and dealing with a lame COF who thinks you owe him a degree of servitude. But maybe your attitude is why all of the above apply." I wanted to say, "Do you think you could put that game aside while you work for me."
But, I didn't say anything. I smiled amiably attempting to win his good will. I took the iPad back, attempted to hear his mumbled instructions about giving it time to fully seal, etc., and gave him my debit card. It only took him two more pool shots to run the card. I turned away, pointedly ignoring the jar with the hand printed label - TIPS. - REALLY(?).
May you have a wonderful sucky life.