I was accused of wasting some really rude man's time yesterday. I laughed–couldn't help it, didn't want to.
That seems to be the biggest fall-back accusation of idiotic customers who don't get their way–that *I* just wasted *their* time. My gut reaction to such accusations would probably kill the good reputation I've built at work.
Xillah is a good girl now. …
Anyway, I pointed out that he misread a price sign and he proceeded to tell me how faulty our signing methods were before instructing me on how to better label each and every product with it's very own price sign so he will never be wrong again. I just paused, smiled, and said: "Anyway, that's the price for this scale because, as you can see, the box advertizes the BMI and water analyzer while this other glass scale is just a regular bathroom scale."
"Not 'anyway'," he griped, and then went on to argue that he shouldn't have to analyze the differences between the scales himself.
Xillah: "I just explained the differences."
Meanwhile, I'm internally begging the man to just move on. Either buy it or pass on it–that simple. Why the argument? He was wrong. It happens. Either pay the price of the scale or get the cheaper scale or… Ooo! Even better–buy it somewhere else. I had work to do and other customers waiting.
Finally, my lack of willingness to indulge his arguing seemed to tip him over the edge and he announced: "You are wasting my time! Goodbye!"
"Have a nice day," I said with a genuine smile, now that he was finally out of my hair.
"You too!" he barked over his shoulder as he stomped away, toward the mall entrance. Busy, important man, so pressed for time as he wandered the mall in search of more sales associates to harangue. Perhaps in answering his question about why the scale rang up at $59.99 rather than $29.99, I made him terribly late to his appointments at Cinnibon and Build-A-Bear.