Bad Week For Customer Service

Janice, from the Gas Company, rocked my world last week.

I thought my experience with customer service couldn't get any worse. Then I met Kamat:

I was lying on the sofa Saturday afternoon-- watching a Roseanne marathon on TV. I hadn't eaten in about 24 hours and I was nursing a hangover with coffee and chocolate kisses. I decided I needed to eat. At first I thought of Taco Bell. But then I've eaten at Taco Bell at least three times a week for a few years now. I wanted something different. I went to the kitchen drawer and fumbled through all of the carry-out menus that had amassed beneath my silverwear container. I called Pizza Valley to place a to-go order. I ordered an antipasta salad and bread sticks & I was told they'd be ready to pick up in 20 minutes.

I took a shower & changed clothes and headed to Pizza Valley. When I got there I saw a lovely woman wearing a beautiful sari. Well, I had a hard time seeing her- she was behind a mirrored glass with a very small hole cut out in it-- just big enought to push cash through and receive change. Her name was Kamat, according to the name tag that was carefully pinned to her sari. Kamat informed me that my order would be ready in about 2 minutes. I sat down.

After 10 minutes, I went back to the mirrored windo and and asked Kamat if my order was ready. Suddenly she didn't speak English any longer. She held a finger up- indicating one more minute, I guessed. I sat back down again and waited for another 10 minutes. I asked her again when my order would be ready-- hell, it was only a salad and bread- how long could that take? It had already been 45 minutes since I originally placed the order. Kamat told me to wait a minute longer. I waited 15 minutes longer and by then I was starving. I had smelled pizza and cheese and bread cooking for an hour and this was getting rediculous. I approached Kamat one final time and asked where my food was. Kamat regained her use of the English language and told me that the driver had taken it by mistake and if I could wait for him to return I would have my salad within 30 minutes. Out of frustration, I cancelled the order and walked out. Then it occurred to me that they had been stalling- they knew my food wasn't there and they were just waiting for it to return. But why didn't they just make me another salad and send me on my way? Again, how long does it take to make a salad? Wouldn't it have been easier to just remake the order and not make me wait for the driver to return with the salad?

I drove towards home with no food in my car, a nose full of Mozarella and a deep craving for antipasta salad. I stopped at Chick-a Loe's. They had salads and breadsticks, but they didn't accept credit cards and I didn't have a penny in my pocket. I walked back to my car- cursing the sky and questioning, "What have I done that's bad enough to deserve not getting an antipasta salad when I NEED one?".

After several hours of searching for food, I finally settled for Taco Bell. I should've gone there to start with, I guess.

By the time I finished eating lunch, the sun had gone down and the Roseanne marathon was over. I slept on the sofa and dreamed visions of revenge- I envisioned Janice freezing in the North Pole and Kamat starving in Ethiopia. I know it's cruel, but it made me feel better.