Service Of The Customer Kind

It's funny how quickly habits can change. They say 21 days to create a habit. They fail to tell you it takes less than 7 days to destroy it. 

I was doing so, so good about going to the gym. For months, months, I was going at least 3 days a week.  At one point every single day. And if I missed a day my gym friends would say "Hey! Missed you yesterday!"

Yes, I had gym friends.

Then. BOOM. I missed a day. Missed two days. Missed a week. And another. Until it's too many weeks for me to even count. WHY, WHY, WHY?

So I decide to start over. Like I always do. Because I think, in all things, some is better than none. One day a month isn't great but it's a whole hell of a lot better than the alternative. So I gather up my resolve and tell myself "Here I go again!" Only it's actually again, again,again...because this is only like my 147 millionth time to start over. But no worries, I'm just happy I get a chance to keep going.

So I meant to pack my gym bag for Monday.  But meant doesn't count for a lot. So I did it immediately when I got home that night. I was set and ready for today. AND I even remembered to take it with me. Score!

Then I'm working and got busy. Around 2ish I realize what time it is and decide I need to go to lunch. I've actually already eaten lunch - a peanut butter and jelly sandwich over a keyboard. Because I favor the refined dining experience. So I grab my keys and head out. Shopping. What better way to kill an hour, right?  And it isn't until I'm walking back into the building that I realize...Wait! Holy crap! I was going to go to the gym! Grrrrrr! How do I forget something like that? Because I'm out of the habit, that's why!

So my gym bag is still at the office and I've got a reminder set on my calendar. This plan is fail-proof. Tomorrow I will be at the gym.

So today was shopping.

I had to return a dress. I'm a chronic returner. Drives my husband crazy. But I like to take my time and really decide I like something. What's the point of having it if it's just going to hang in my closet? And I've noticed things always look different when I get them home. I think I just get so excited when I finally find something that fits that I decide immediately I like it, without really looking to see if I actually do. It's like beer goggles for shopping - it looks great in the store but then I sober up and wonder what the hell I was thinking.

So I buy a lot and I return a lot. This is really, really weird I know but I take pictures of me in the clothes before I decide to keep them. Just because I think it's more truthful than looking in a mirror. Especially the mirror in my bedroom. I promise you, it's a magic mirror - it automatically takes off about 10 pounds. I will never, ever get rid of that mirror. I don't care if it breaks into a million little pieces, I will glue it back together and keep using it.

So I had a dress that didn't pass the test. I kinda suspected it wouldn't. I bought it way cheap and I think I was just so enamored with the price tag that I told myself I would make it work. Like the chick you pick up just because you know she won't say no.  See, how come most guys don't like shopping? It's really not that different from bar life...

Of course, I didn't have the receipt. I mean, I have the receipt - I have a zillion receipts. Just not on me. Because I needed it and who ever has a receipt when they need it?  So I get less money back than what I paid for it. Ugh, I hate that. I mean, it wasn't a huge difference but seems like such a waste. I basically paid the store because the dress made me look like I was pregnant and had lumpy hips. 

While I was waiting in line...and it was a long line because the woman who raced ahead of me to make sure she was first, apparently had something complicated because it took three people and a lot of time to figure it out...so I'm waiting and this woman waddles up and says in a really disgusted voice "Where's customer service?" She said it like she'd been wandering for days and days. Where is this elusive Customer Services?  Will I ever reach it? Will this journey ever end? I'm trying to hang on but I. Can't. Go. Much. Further. 

And she said it to the customer service people. 

The very nice customer service lady- the one who needed to get a second and third opinion on the transaction no one could figure out - said in the nicest, most cheerful voice "Here! This is it!" and the wenchy lady very loudly snarled "Well! The sign just says Service. It doesn't say customer service."

Really?

What kind of service did you think it meant? I was so tempted to turn around and ask her. I was genuinely curious. Are there stores out there offering services I'm not aware of? Should I be concerned I'm missing out?  My whole life I've naively made the assumption that a huge, giant, nearly neon sign saying "SERVICE" meant customer services. Who knew?

And really, do you have to be one of those? One of those women who is bitchy just for the sake of being bitchy. Because it takes work, a lot of work to be bitchy like that - you really gotta try at it. And I don't know, maybe it's my perpetual laziness but that's too much work for me. I mean, sure, acting like a tyrant might have it's perks - like having the entire return line whirl around at you when you semi-scream because you're too stupid to understand a sign my 4 year old kid would get - but if I'm gonna put out the energy I need more than that. Screw that small-time return line crap. I'm saving my over-the-top-crazed-bitchiness for something big - if I'm doing it, I'm going to make a real statement.

And it fluttered through my head You're the reason I hated working retail.  But then I realized that wasn't true - I actually loved working retail. It's weird, I know, but sometimes I miss it. Mainly the part where we got the new clothes in and I would pick stuff out and buy it before it was even on the rack. I loved having first dibs. It was insane the amount of clothes I had. Obscene really.

Then the lady does a combination grunt/sigh to illustrate her impatience with having to stand in line for more than a minute. Nope you're right - you are totally the reason I hated working retail.