I have at times been mistaken for another member of staff. We don't really look alike, but have a similar hairstyle, and i guess people just look at the top of my head or something. I have gotten used to this, and is no more than a vaguely amusing occurence.
My customer today however, took this to new levels. My 'counterpart' was nowhere in sight. I served the gentleman over in the corner of the shop, handed him what he needed, and headed for the till so i could put it through for him.
I get to the till, and he arrives moments later, and gives me a surprised look. 'Oh, I think I just spoke to your twin over there!" he says. At first, i don't understand what he's going on about, until it finally sinks in.
I've just been mistaken for myself.
Thursday 27 September 2007
Wednesday 26 September 2007
The Complexities Of Money
Isn't money a difficult thing? All those little numbers, adding up... all those different pieces of paper and coins that mean different things? Do you ever feel confused by them?
Consider the customer. He is faced with a bill of £64.99. He produces: 2x £20 notes, and 1x £5 note. He counts this and says '£65, there you go.'
No sir, i need another £20.
'What?'
I have £45 here. I need another £20.
This leads to a small confusion of rustling pockets and flying money. This reveals a whole mess of notes and coins before me. I now have: 2x £20 notes, 1x £5 notes and five pound coins. I inform the gentleman that, alas, this still falls short by £14.99.
Six 50p coins and two more £1 coins grace my counter. Very good sir, we're still short £10 though.
Three more £1 coins come my way. I come close to giving up. We still need £6. This customer has a pocketful of change that would shame many small banks, so it's not like he's having to really search for the money. There's also a whole £5 note that keeps appearing and disappearing without ever moving in my direction.
The pounds coins start to come out again. This time i count along with them as they hit the counter. '6!...5!...4!...3!...2!...1!... Oh. You've stopped. I still need £1. Thats it... another one of those coins there. There we go! Thabk you sir, and here's your receipt.'
At long bloody last. Bear in mind this gentleman was definately english, and middle aged, and therefore could not be struggling with the language, or unfamiliar with the money. He wasn't obviously mentally disabled. He seemed slightly dim, and smelt like he'd been living in a damp hole somewhere, but was essentially normal. Or at least by my standards, which you may have noticed, could be considerably distorted by now.
Yet it was a considerable struggle to simply get the right money out of him. It's also worth noticing that he had bought something else a few minutes earlier, paying £30 quite effortlessly. Yet suddenly it was like the concept of money was entirely foreign to him, or that i had suddenly demanded that he pay me in Mongolian Togrog.
More mysterious still, this customer isn't unknown to me. I in fact remember him well as he once paid something like £40 entirely in pound coins, which were covered in some strange kind of dirt, that suggested he may have stolen them from a grave somewhere. This sale had been executed without any difficulty, though i tried not to touch the coins more than was strictly neccessary.
It all goes to show that the world is a strange, unpredictable and mysterious place, It's possible that things simply happen so that people can write and complain about them on the internet. Think about it.
Consider the customer. He is faced with a bill of £64.99. He produces: 2x £20 notes, and 1x £5 note. He counts this and says '£65, there you go.'
No sir, i need another £20.
'What?'
I have £45 here. I need another £20.
This leads to a small confusion of rustling pockets and flying money. This reveals a whole mess of notes and coins before me. I now have: 2x £20 notes, 1x £5 notes and five pound coins. I inform the gentleman that, alas, this still falls short by £14.99.
Six 50p coins and two more £1 coins grace my counter. Very good sir, we're still short £10 though.
Three more £1 coins come my way. I come close to giving up. We still need £6. This customer has a pocketful of change that would shame many small banks, so it's not like he's having to really search for the money. There's also a whole £5 note that keeps appearing and disappearing without ever moving in my direction.
The pounds coins start to come out again. This time i count along with them as they hit the counter. '6!...5!...4!...3!...2!...1!... Oh. You've stopped. I still need £1. Thats it... another one of those coins there. There we go! Thabk you sir, and here's your receipt.'
At long bloody last. Bear in mind this gentleman was definately english, and middle aged, and therefore could not be struggling with the language, or unfamiliar with the money. He wasn't obviously mentally disabled. He seemed slightly dim, and smelt like he'd been living in a damp hole somewhere, but was essentially normal. Or at least by my standards, which you may have noticed, could be considerably distorted by now.
Yet it was a considerable struggle to simply get the right money out of him. It's also worth noticing that he had bought something else a few minutes earlier, paying £30 quite effortlessly. Yet suddenly it was like the concept of money was entirely foreign to him, or that i had suddenly demanded that he pay me in Mongolian Togrog.
More mysterious still, this customer isn't unknown to me. I in fact remember him well as he once paid something like £40 entirely in pound coins, which were covered in some strange kind of dirt, that suggested he may have stolen them from a grave somewhere. This sale had been executed without any difficulty, though i tried not to touch the coins more than was strictly neccessary.
It all goes to show that the world is a strange, unpredictable and mysterious place, It's possible that things simply happen so that people can write and complain about them on the internet. Think about it.
Monday 24 September 2007
Communication Difficulties.
Hey look! I'm alive!
Today's topic stems from two gentlemen i have 'spoken' to in the last week.
Case one: The (Possibly) Deaf Guy.
By and large, i really don't have a problem dealing with deaf people. I've had regular customers who are deaf, and we quickly work out a method of communication which gets them helped out as well as i can manage.
Now i assume this fellow was deaf. Maybe he was broken. Maybe he was a hamster in a human shaped robot-suit. Either way, the only sound i could get out of him was 'eee!' Now as syllables go, this one isn't among the most useful out there. Therefore our exchange runs as follows:
Hamster-Person: "Eee!"
Me: "Can i help?"
H-P: "Eee! eee eee! eee eee eee eee!" (hands waving around, indicating some kind of box, then something further away. Then something that might be a complicated euphanism for something horrible, or the plugging-in of a cable).
Me: "I'm sorry. I don't quite follow you."
H-P: "Eee! Eee! ooom! (Aha! a new syllable. Perhaps i can work with this). Eee!" (More hand waving, indicating more or less the same vaguely disturbing things).
My continued attempts fail to provide any more useful information, and eventually our conversation draws to a frustrated close. My customer is unhappy at our lack of results, but i feel unsure of what i could actually do. The gentlemen appeared to think we were able to communicate in this fashion, and sadly i was found wanting.
Case Two: The Guy Who Comes From Some Country That Isnt England, But I'll Be Buggered If I Can Figure Out Which One.
Now i deal with a lot of foreign customers. There are a lot of them around here, and i've gotten used to a lot of accents and dialects, and can usually get past all but the worst of language barriers. However, i cannot deal with someone talking a completely different language at me, as though this is a good way to communicate.
It really doesn't matter how many times you repeat it to me, i am incabaple of learning a foreign language enough to solve the problem at hand. Indicating that you have a television, and want to plug something in to it only gives me so many clues. Once i've exhausted the possibilities these clues provide, i generally require further information. I do not recieve such a thing, only the same explanation in a language i cannot begin to identify.
The problem is escaping these situations. One must avoid potential complaints, and therefore must try hard not to offend. One must try hard to be as helpful as possible. Retail companies send 'secret shoppers' down to you every so often, and they are often out to see how well you behave in difficult situations. Whilst i don't believe they'd ever be so drastic in their approach, you can never be to sure. Either way, you're being paid to be nice to these people, and therefore cannot really break of the conversation yourself for fear of causing offence.
It is therefore a long, painful wait for them to realise that they aren't going to get what they want, and end the conversation themselves. The worst part is that, unlike the dithering elderly, or the dribblingly mad, you cannot spot these people from a distance. By the time you realise you've got one, it's too late. And they never give up easily. Often they will come back for more. Yet another thing to colour the lives of retail workers everywhere. Because we'd hate to be bored.
Today's topic stems from two gentlemen i have 'spoken' to in the last week.
Case one: The (Possibly) Deaf Guy.
By and large, i really don't have a problem dealing with deaf people. I've had regular customers who are deaf, and we quickly work out a method of communication which gets them helped out as well as i can manage.
Now i assume this fellow was deaf. Maybe he was broken. Maybe he was a hamster in a human shaped robot-suit. Either way, the only sound i could get out of him was 'eee!' Now as syllables go, this one isn't among the most useful out there. Therefore our exchange runs as follows:
Hamster-Person: "Eee!"
Me: "Can i help?"
H-P: "Eee! eee eee! eee eee eee eee!" (hands waving around, indicating some kind of box, then something further away. Then something that might be a complicated euphanism for something horrible, or the plugging-in of a cable).
Me: "I'm sorry. I don't quite follow you."
H-P: "Eee! Eee! ooom! (Aha! a new syllable. Perhaps i can work with this). Eee!" (More hand waving, indicating more or less the same vaguely disturbing things).
My continued attempts fail to provide any more useful information, and eventually our conversation draws to a frustrated close. My customer is unhappy at our lack of results, but i feel unsure of what i could actually do. The gentlemen appeared to think we were able to communicate in this fashion, and sadly i was found wanting.
Case Two: The Guy Who Comes From Some Country That Isnt England, But I'll Be Buggered If I Can Figure Out Which One.
Now i deal with a lot of foreign customers. There are a lot of them around here, and i've gotten used to a lot of accents and dialects, and can usually get past all but the worst of language barriers. However, i cannot deal with someone talking a completely different language at me, as though this is a good way to communicate.
It really doesn't matter how many times you repeat it to me, i am incabaple of learning a foreign language enough to solve the problem at hand. Indicating that you have a television, and want to plug something in to it only gives me so many clues. Once i've exhausted the possibilities these clues provide, i generally require further information. I do not recieve such a thing, only the same explanation in a language i cannot begin to identify.
The problem is escaping these situations. One must avoid potential complaints, and therefore must try hard not to offend. One must try hard to be as helpful as possible. Retail companies send 'secret shoppers' down to you every so often, and they are often out to see how well you behave in difficult situations. Whilst i don't believe they'd ever be so drastic in their approach, you can never be to sure. Either way, you're being paid to be nice to these people, and therefore cannot really break of the conversation yourself for fear of causing offence.
It is therefore a long, painful wait for them to realise that they aren't going to get what they want, and end the conversation themselves. The worst part is that, unlike the dithering elderly, or the dribblingly mad, you cannot spot these people from a distance. By the time you realise you've got one, it's too late. And they never give up easily. Often they will come back for more. Yet another thing to colour the lives of retail workers everywhere. Because we'd hate to be bored.
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