Your haircut sucks ass.
If you were not so busy trying to get your suck-ass hair to follow the traditional comb over pattern favored by middle aged men in the seventies, you might have heard me when I told you I had an EXCHANGE. Your temper-tantrum sighing fit and repeatedly asking me if I had a reciept was not endearing in the least. If you had left your stupid "edgy" hair alone while greeting me, perhaps made eye contact, or even (gasp) attempted something close to conversation, you might have had MORE time to play with your hair at the end of the transaction, instead of having to call for a manager to void out your fuck up.
I don't have the patience for girls playing with their locks while I am trying to conduct business, and my experiences with male grooming in the service industry lately almost make me appreciate the time and attention you spent on your hair.
Oh, but that's right, your haircut sucks ass. Big hairy donkey balls, boy.
Just like your customer service.
cc: Border's Bookstore.
3 comments:
Wow. I wish you could come to my Border's. They all know me by name and Pedro always tells me that he loves my book choices.
Customer relations is important. I'd write a complaint letter.
Oh, Maria, his hair was SOOOO bad, and he spent so much time ignoring me and trying to get it out of his way... I worked in customer service for a long time, IN bookstores, and I cannot STAND a snotty clerk.
A letter may still happen.
I really hope you write the letter. And you include much of this. Did I ever tell you the bob evans story? You should write the letter.
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