So I went into a drug store the other day to purchase some sundries.
No one was at the register, so I looked around to find a clerk. She was in the aisle, stocking shelves. Having worked in a drug store in high school, I am well versed in what you do when you have down time: Front the shelves. Fronting the shelves means you make sure all of the products are pulled to the very front. I gave a pass to the clerk, as I’ve been there in that exciting endeavor.
I gave a friendly wave and said that I needed to check out. She looked up and told me that she was on her way. Customer service in charge!
Yeah, not so much.
I stood at the register for a good 30 seconds, and she didn’t come. I took a few steps over and looked down the aisle. And there she was: Texting away.
“Yeah, hi, uh, I’m ready to check out...” I said.
While my mouth said that, my brain was screaming, “Are you serious!?!?!?! I am trying to pay money to you – money that pays your paycheck – and you have to text one of your friends with some thought that I am just guessing will never end up in ‘Bartlett’s’!?!?!?!?”
She eventually made her way to the counter. She rang up my purchase, and I went to pay. But I had to wait a second. Can you guess what I had to wait for? Was she administering CPR to a fallen co-worker? Was she thwarting a robbery? Was she saving a wounded dog from limping into traffic?
I think we all know she was texting. Again.
As I was heading out of the store, I took my receipt and glanced at the top. Store phone number – right there. I am not the kind of person who nickels and dimes store managers about things, but for some reason this really chapped my hide. I sat in my car and called the number. A guy answered, and I asked to speak to a manager. He informed me he was the manager. I told him that I am not the complaining type. I told him that I am not the kind of person to punish a store for the actions of one employee. And I told him that I was fuming hot about being delayed by a clerk who was texting. He listened patiently.
And then he told me that (a) he was sorry and (b) he had already spoken to the employee about texting on the job, and she would not be doing that again.
Apparently, he had observed the whole thing play out. He did three things perfect: He addressed the issue with his employee. He apologized to an upset customer. And, most importantly, in my book, he didn’t publicly dress down an employee.
I know that our inner bloodlust would have liked for him to storm the aisle, vocally rip the employee, and send a message to the whole store who was boss. But he didn’t. And he shouldn’t have. Plus one to him for the way he handled it.
But the crux of the issue – what in the world possesses people to make them think that, while on the job, they should text away? Probably the same thing that makes people think they can text and drive. And I have the solution. These days, phones are quite clever creatures. (My iPhone? This morning it made my coffee, got the kids ready for school and told me my socks were mismatched.) Surely we can figure out a way for your phone to realize when you are being a complete and total dolt when it comes to texting. And, if your super smart phone realizes you are texting while you are ignoring a customer or driving a car, you are automatically billed a surcharge, something in the neighborhood of $20 million. In lieu of paying the charge, you also have the option of eating your phone.
It’s just a simple courtesy that seems straightforward enough. Granted, people still smack gum, so some things I guess will never go out of style.
