The Customer's Job is Basic Human Decency

I’m quite done taking abuse from people who think that, because I’m in customer service, I should just stand there while they scream and spit insults from their gaping maw.

Done. Over it.

I’m good at what I do. I treat people with kindness, and I work hard to ensure people have their needs met. My particular customer service position is in hospitality. I work at the front desk of a hotel. And every now and then you get people who think you owe them the world, and if they don’t get it, you’re bad at your job, it’s a bad place to stay, and they’ve been deeply wronged.

I’ve had several instances where I’ve had to endure some intense abuse as a front desk agent.

We had a guest smoke in a room once. We found evidence of this in addition to the repugnant smell of lingering smoke, and we charged him an additional $250 to rent the machine to air out the room and for having the room unavailable to be sold while we did that.

‘We’ in all of these instances is basically never ME, but I’m the one that becomes the target of people’s temper tantrums.

He called the hotel and wanted to know what the charge was. I explained that apparently evidence had been found of smoking, and he immediately said, “No, you’re wrong. Refund it now.”

At this point, it was hotel policy that I couldn’t do refunds. Only the general manager could do that, and the manager wouldn’t be in until Monday.

I told him exhaustively that there was nothing I could do, and he just kept screaming at me to refund his card. Finally, I had another guest walk in and I told the guy on the phone, “I’m sorry, but I’ve done everything I can. I’m going to hang up the phone now.” And I did.

He called back 29 times that night. After the first five, I just immediately placed him on hold while I helped the other guests checking in. One of them even commented to me that the person calling ‘really doesn’t seem to get it.’

No, he totally understood that, in this day and age, the louder you scream, the more people pay attention to you.

Not to get too preachy, but look at our former president. You yell something loud enough and with a big enough audience, pretty soon they not only believe it but feel entitled to be able to do the exact same thing.

So, this guy took it a step farther. “I’m going to drive up there and beat your queer ass!”

Great. Threatening a hate crime. Awesome. Except for the fact he didn’t live very far away. And he was angry enough that I didn’t know what he was going to do. And I was on shift for the next seven hours. Alone.

Luckily, my hotel manager had my back. They said they would call this guy, and in the meantime, to call the police and report him. So I did. Gave the officer his number and said I just wasn’t sure what he would do.

The officer was less than helpful. “He threatened to beat you up?” she asked in a dubious tone.

“No, he threatened to beat my queer ass.”

“Well, are you queer?”

I sighed heavily. “Yes, I’m gay. And he doesn’t live very far away, so I don’t know what he’ll do. And I’m working alone and would rather not get murdered.”

“Did he threaten to murder you?”

“No, but-”

“Okay, so that’s just not true. But what do you want me to do?”

I stared at the phone. What do you mean, what do I want you to do. Protect and fucking serve, lady. I was just threatened with a hate crime and you think I’m just some punk or something.

“I just feel like if he heard from the police he’d think twice about coming up here.”

She sighed. “I guess I can call him and hear his side of events.”

So she did. And she called me back to tell me he never said that, and not to worry.

Thanks, police. I feel both protected and served. Not. (Totally different blog post, but I imagine that’s what it feels like to be a woman reporting a stalker, and there are many stories where those women ended up murdered). So I worked that whole night with my work keys in my pocket to lock the office door behind me and the work taser nearby. (Yes, my work had a taser).

My hotel manager told me that guy was never going to stay at the hotel again. But he did. Because the name didn’t get added to the ‘do not rent’ list.

This guy got his way by being loud and angry enough. This white, privileged male could have used his anger to advocate against the persecution of LGBTQ people. Instead, he used it to threaten to harm a member of that community.

One other time I was working in apparel, and this woman came in to return a coat. I had seen a similar coat, but the receipt item number did not match the item she brought back. I told her so and continued to decline the return until she decided to call the police because we were ‘robbing her.’

Police showed up and again, asked, “What would you like us to do?”

If this is a common police tactic or something they’re trained to ask, I think they should stop. Because it literally puts all the decisions about the situation on someone who is either traumatized or at the very least upset. Like, stop, police. Stop that.

Also, stop murdering people of color. Again, another blog.

Finally, my most recent experience was telling a guest they could not have a microwave. This was actually not what upset them. It was the fact I was providing poor customer service.

Now, telling someone ‘no’ is not providing poor customer service. However, as she screamed at me as she left the hotel that I was still bad at customer service because I wished her a good day, what followed was an example of poor customer service.

She was ranting on about how everyone was going to know how bad I was at customer service, so I said, “Because you’re so good.”

“I am good, fucker! Better than you. I hope you get cheated on and get your heart broken!”

And I took a deep breath and let out a loud laugh. So, yes, laughing a guest out of the hotel was an example of poor customer service, and I fully expect to be disciplined on my next shift when I go back to work. Maybe even fired, if the lady pushes enough.

But why did I say those things? Why was I unkind to her? I was just following her example. I should have been better and risen above. I know. Believe me, I was filled with intense regret and guilt for days. And why? Because I was a human person with a human response to someone screaming at me.

I spoke with my counselor about all of this. We crafted a sentence that I can use and change as needed. “I understand you’re frustrated and I can’t help you if you yell at me.”

I shouldn’t have to advocate for myself to not be yelled at by somebody. But I do. Until some notion in the populace changes, working customer service will be a nightmare to many people because of people like those I’ve described above. Until the customer decides on kindness, I have to be prepared to be verbally abused, and possibly physically abused, depending on how angry a customer is.

All because I said no.