5 Types of Problem Customers

The Sleaze: A fast-talking, glib, used car salesman type. Ostentatiously sports a Rolex or TAG Heuer (authenticity questionable). If you wear a name tag, will address you by name exceedingly often. Frequently begins sentences with, "Tell you what I'm gonna do..." Reminds you of "how often he comes in here." Makes outrageous requests, such as halving his bill or throwing in an extra GPS system for his inconvenience. May or may not bear a resemblance to an aged Tony Orlando.

The Crotchety Curmudgeon: At least 80. Complains about your own incompetence but cannot swipe his own credit card through the scanner correctly. Swings between disgruntled mutterings to himself and spit-spewing, vein-popping war cries, because he's convinced screaming incites better service. Occasionally guilt trips with his ailments of old age as the transaction progresses ("I need to sit down," "This ain't good for my pacemaker").

Batty Ol' Crone: Female cousin to Crotchety Curmudgeon. May or may not resemble members of the Skeksis race from The Dark Crystal.

Soccer Mom from Hell: Usually flanked by one or two equally incorrigible children and invariably carries some kind of Vera Bradley accessory. Shrill and abrasive. Insists merchandise costs less than it's marked because she claims she "saw it on sale in your catalog." Threatens to leave and will go to your closest competitor if not satisfied. Prone to causing scenes. Histrionics tend to be martyrized ("Forget about me, just go ahead and serve all these other people!") or overdramatic (*crouches down next to 5-year-old son and points around store* "See this place, Hunter? We're never coming here again!").

The Self-Important Deebs: Often times a combination of the aforementioned. Usually the mayor's wife, a local news anchor, wealthy owner of the town's biggest furniture store, or some other hoity-toity pooh-bah of the community. Talks to you like you are a simpleton ("Don't forget to give me my change," "Now it's time for you to place my purchase in this shopping bag"). Asks things like, "Can I start a tab?"



...bear in mind, the vast majority of people I've dealt with in the retail/customer service industries have been pleasant, patient and downright, gosh-darned good folk. But some exist simply to scrape your gums. Aye yai yai. I'm just glad that my first job out of college will be dealing with (hopefully) polite Japanese high schoolers and not loud, expectant Americans.

Oh yeah, I saw WALL-E yesterday afternoon! It was everything I hoped it would be. Robot love stories sure tug on the ol' heartstrings, don't they?

Hyperlink a go-go!

I'm obsessed with Wikipedia.

A little game I like to play: connect two disjoint and completely unrelated topics by clicking on as few links as possible. For example, I clicked on today's featured article, Cygnus X-1 ("a strong x-ray source in the constellation Cygnus") and my goal was to arrive at funny man Hal Sparks's entry. It went a little something like this:

Cyngus X-1 -> event horizon (boundary in space-time) -> Event Horizon (film) -> 1997 films -> As Good as It Gets -> Greg Kinnear -> Talk Soup -> Hal Sparks.

This phenomenon's significance is two-fold: (a) my existence has degraded to idle Internet shilly-shallying (no news there) and (b) the information we have access to nowadays is incredible, both in terms of quantity and availability. Got thirty seconds and DSL? Then you can look up directions to any post office, Starbucks or strip club in town! Want to schmooze your way into a free lap dance at said strip club? Get hints from the pros on your web-connected smartphone! Or maybe you're just looking for the tenuous connection between a comedian and an x-ray binary system? Don't worry--the net's got your back. Ain't technology grand?

Oh yeah, and we have a new mouth to feed around here:



His name is Fenway, and he seriously feels like he's made out of velvet. This pup is smooth. I'm tempted to sneak him on to my flight (small animals count as carry-ons... right?), but we all know what happened to the dog on Soul Plane!

Speaking of which... I only have one month left of valuable chopstick practice.

Le gasp.

Summer thus far:

1. Being a "seasonal cashier" at Lowe's. This entails a few duties that went unmentioned in the interview:

• Offering inquiring customers advice on such topics as pipe-threading, mosquito-repelling lanterns, and which small, steel piece of hardware shaped like E.T.'s head is best for building a new lazy Susan. Yikes! I don't think I could've picked a place where I know less about the inventory and services, but I just fake it 'til I make it (or just dump the customer on someone else).
  
• Being an ad hoc stock guy. Incidentally, my most recent brush with death occurred when they made me single-handedly unload freight, and a porcelain toilet bowl nearly fell on my unwisely uncovered head. Alas, Lowe's only gives its employees complimentary box-cutters, not complimentary hard hats.
• Tidying up the outside loading area, using Nifty Nabbers to pick up warped cardboard, snuff tins, seemingly used strips of gauze and other untouchables, a la community service-sentenced convicts. One of the loaders warned us not to venture too far into the nearby tall grass and weeds, since he once got poison ivy after wading through. He then suggested pouring gasoline on the problem area in the event we do start to see any suspicious rash developing, and that if you can get past the initial burning sensation, it's really quite effective in combating the condition. The fact that he was completely sincere is a bit troubling; needless to say, his home remedy is one I don't anticipate on ever using, unless a large bet is involved.

2. Quality time with friends and family. I usually use my free nights with them to scope out Fort Wayne nightlife, though I'm coming to terms with the fact that, apparently, I look like a high school miscreant trying to sneak into bars. For example, three friends and I were out getting drinks the other night, and the waitress specifically pointed to me, demanding, "Okay, I need to see your ID." I mean, I looked no younger than anyone else at the table! Sheesh. It was funny, but kinda weird. Oh, well. Maybe my immature, boyish, dare I say--winsome?--looks will actually come in handy one day!  Y'know, if I'm ever auditioning for a Kix commercial or something.

3. PLAYING MARIO KART. I'm pretty sure I'm addicted. *stands up* Hi, my name is Bryan, and I can navigate Rainbow Road blindfolded! (Not because I'm that good, mind you... but because I've been playing this infernal game so much, I can mentally map out any of the 32 courses on cue, item boxes and all.) Stop by my house and look for me--I'll be the guy sitting in the dark wearing nothing but boxers and Dorito crumbs, Wii remote in hand, staring at the TV with a vapid, bloodshot gaze. At least my thumbs are stronger and more dexterous than ever. And who can say no to a guy with good thumbs?

Japan in 39 days. Stoked.

[no subject]

I've been getting tons of mail from Japan recently. Contracts, informational DVDs, omiyage (small gift) ideas for co-workers and supervisors, a "Japanese for JETs" language textbook, even more specific placement information (I'll be living on the beach!) and a travel brochure of Shizuoka, among other items for my perusal. This influx of information and materials makes me even more eager to set off to the land of the rising sun!

Also, Shizuoka prefecture apparently has its own mascot! Not really sure what it (he?) is, but I'm going with hybrid between a whale and the Kool-Aid man. Thoughts?