Spin Me I Pulsate.

Since I just had the WORST customer experience EVER in The Bay, I've decided I want today's favorite's to be your rants on the WORST customer service you ever received. I have others, but today's was SO fucking bad that I actually complained. I NEVER complain. I usually just leave.

I needed to go buy a bra, since after two babies, things have shifted and the current one is ending it's usefulness. So, my trusty work companion and I wander into The Bay. (For those of you not in Canada, The Bay is a psuedo "up-Market" department store.) Most of the time, the service is mediocre, but in the lingerie department, we've usually ran into friendly, mostly helpful if not busy people. And I don't ask for much. Eye-contact and a "can I help you find anything?" suffices. Usually I don't want help. Today, I had intended on getting help, since I wanted to spend the money and get a few bra's that fit.

So we browse around. All the women know, the standard few minutes to allow the salesclerk to notice you. And we browse. And I mention loudly a few times that I don't know my size, I'll just try a bunch on, wish I knew my size, etc, etc. As someone who spent years in retail, you come to know the difference between those who need help, and those who don't. I was using ALL the signals. Looking around, sighing loudly, complaining, looking DIRECTLY at the sales desk.

Nuthin.

So finally, I go to the fitting room desk with 9 bras, ALL different sizes. I stand there for 5 minutes or so while she stands next to two skinny girls trying to figure out if they're a 34 or 36A (a note girls-anything THAT small, I don't think the bra will help)

Finally she comes out behind them. She continues to talk at them over my head. I open my mouth and begin to ask to try them on. She keeps talking. Finally, she hears me, and mumbles "yeah, go ahead" while STARING OVER MY HEAD. The woman was shorter than me! I mutter something about not knowing my size, as she stands there WITH A MEASURING TAPE in her hands, as she had just measured miss nipple. NOTHING. She can't even look me in the eye.

Evil work friend is a similar build. Recieves equally shitty treatment. Has to let herself into dressing room. Is not asked if she's good, needs another size, nothing.

I find one that I actually want, but decide for once, to BE the pissed off customer. Evil work friend asks if I found one I like, as she's paying for her's in front of the rude, asshole clerk. I say, oh yeah, I found one. I'm not buying it. Clerk says NOTHING. Doesn't even look embarressed. (So either she is a complete blithering idiot, or she doesn't care)

I stew for a moment. I say Fuck it. I want a manager. I complain at the desk. THe manager who comes to see me is also blessed with a, well, "child-bearing" body. I explain that I have NEVER been treated as badly as this, and that I got the distinct impression that I wasn't skinny enough, or good enough to be served. She looked pissed, and said she'd deal with it right then. (I got the impression that this isn't the first time she's heard this)

I NEVER complain. I know how fucking hard retail can be, and I'm VERY forgiving if it's busy, short staffed, whatever. A simple "HI! Let me know if I can help!" would have sufficed. I was not given that opening. The woman wouldn't look at us, while she happily serviced two skinny, pretty girls who were a little more put together than I ever am. Fuck, I'd be better dressed if the clothes were made for me....

So, not ONLY am I still sitting here in a bra that fits for shit, I'm ALSO still incensed, and I think I might send a nasty email to The Bay. It's a retail store that pays SHIT. WHY on earth are they such puffincunts????

Cheer me up-share your horror stories.

She never asks if I need help.

Posted by thordora on Friday, August 19, 2005 at 1:09 p.m. | Permalink