AISLE BE BACK!

AISLE BE BACK!

A customer services operative gently weeps and security gathers like blubbery Vin Diesels with tea-breath – all I said was my dongle didn’t work!

What is wrong with you Britain? What happened to your manners and your self-worth?  

The personality of this once green and pleasant land is now based on passive aggression – but woe betide anybody who shows any form of good old fashioned real aggression – not fisticuffs or anything like that – just the gumption to stand up for themselves!

It all began with the advent of customer services – that last bastion of lost ambition, pointless platitudes and inverted aggression, the industry that seems only to employ failed parking wardens, bloated pointless pompous ousted county councillors and those hypocratic oafs of the NHS, jobless doctors receptionists!

Here’s a real conversation with a real customer services representative at a real supermarket (you’re not allowed to call them shop assistants anymore!)

Me: I hand a CS rep the opened package of an internet dongle: “Hello, the dongle I bought here a few days ago doesn’t work.”

CS: “I’m sorry, I’m here to help sir, can you explain what the problem is?”

Me: “Yes, my dongle doesn’t work.”

CS: “I’m sorry sir, do you have the receipt?”

Me: “I’m sorry I’ve lost it.”

CS: “I’m sorry sir, I’m afraid that without a receipt there is nothing I can do.”

Me: “Yes you can…”

CS: “I’m sorry sir, it’s company policy.”

Me: “Well, it certainly isn’t my policy or the policy of the law of the land …”

CS: “I’m sorry sir, I’m only trying to help you.”

Me: “Well you’re not helping me by telling me there’s nothing you can do to help me!”

CS: “I’m sorry sir, I’m here to help you but I can’t help if you adopt that kind of attitude towards me…”

Me: “All I’m saying is that you actually can help me if I don’t have a receipt…”

CS: “I’m sorry sir, I’m not willing to be spoken to in that way – if you persist, I’ll will have to call security.”

And in this way we proceeded for some minutes before the manager came along, caught in the wake of his  eggy and p*ss stained uniformed security with their clunky mobiles and bald heads.

The manager changed my dongle for me without argument or an apology as the customer services operative wept like a guitar as medics hovered and security loomed like blubbery, toothless Vin Diesels…

What is wrong with you Britain for Godsake?

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