Sunday, October 6, 2013

I shouldn't take it so personal.

In fact, the fact that I am taking it so personal should give me a hint to back up and look at the critter in question, and look at him with cool detachment.

Sorry. I should let you know. My current "Keep the lights on and food on the table" job is customer service. Those of you in such roles know that there are good customers, then there are ...

Mr. J. L. was one of the latter.

And the biggest gripe I have with the man is this:  While I was trying to help him get connected, typing madly to keep up with his tirade as well as trying to find the purchase he purportedly had made, he called me:


Yes, I know. I shouldn't let it get to me. With that single word he placed himself beneath contempt in the eyes of those of us who try, the best way we know how, to solve the problem.

To such people, I would like to remind them, despite the Staples ad,


He wanted to talk to my supervisor - who would not be on the floor for another two hours.

He wanted another agent - yet any other agent would have needed to consult with me to solve this person's problem. In short, I was the best person to solve his problem. And he had the stupid idea that the best way to get me to help was to call me:


I got him connected. And this, in spite of his insults, and despite his working against me, I got him connected.

Polite language would not do to properly describe Mr. J. L. However, since I like to leave these pages clean I will leave it up to your own imagination to supply the description. I'm sure you'll do a better job in any case.

To bring myself back to reality, I need to remind myself of a few facts:

My wife of thirty-five years still loves me and thinks that I am:


Our bundle of joy of the past nine years thinks I'm pretty:


And, in our house of all of fifteen-hundred square feet, we have a hard time squeezing in all of the:


                                       that is shared amongst us.

Mr. J. L. most likely hasn't got the least idea of a clue.

Mr. J. L., you are certainly aware that words hurt. You are a craftsman of insults. You use a single word to wound, and to make it all the harder for the helper to help you, simply because the method of helping is not to your liking. You would rather spend extra (but only with the promise of a refund) than to use the solution that was easier for all concerned, even yourself.

And a put-down was the tool of choice for you.

How sad.

How sad that you are so small that that is the only way you know to be large. So, my one word definition of you must be:


Please, sir, have the best life you are capable of. It must be very cold where you live.

As I said, I should not take it so personal.

As Always,

Dana "The Madman" Hansen