I'm picky about service. Certainly I'll reward good service when it's merited. I patronize businesses that have it, even if they don't have the best price. But I'll tell you, for a state so dependent on service industries, some of the ridiculous things customers are subjected to in this town are unbelievable. Forget "poor" customer service... this town is rife with downright "hostile" business practices.
I have dozens of stories. I'm sure you do, too. From cashiers that just throw your change on the counter to restaurants that require "minimum purchase" amounts before they'll take your plastic (which is against the credit card companies' policies, and you bet your sweet bippy I report 'em), some days I'm convinced supposedly struggling yet deserving operations don't want your business.
So here's the place to vent. Tell us who to avoid. And I'll start with an unexpected addition to my list.
The setup? My family and I have a weekly pizza tradition. Every Friday, we either go up to Boston's in Manoa, or we just call Papa John's for delivery. Always Papa John's, because I'm a sucker for that garlic sauce. Did I mention every week? We must've gotten two dozen pizzas this year so far, all processed by their McCully location, since they're the closest. We even order online, and voila, pizza guy arrives. Ah, city life!
So today, pizza day, I call, I place my order, they ask for a method of payment, I say check. We've always paid by check. We sometimes have to give a check number, or a social security number, but whatever. I'm very attached to checks.
For the first time in, easily, two years, they asked me what bank. I told them. They asked what bank address was on the check. Baffled, I told them. It was a P.O. Box. "We can't take that check." From this point on, things got incredibly unpleasant.
I told them it's a local bank. I told them the physical address of the bank. But he was resolute. No deal. I asked to speak to the manager. "I am the manager," he growled. Mark was his name. Mark just made The List. He said it was company policy. I asked, "Since when?" Always. "So let me get this straight. The last twelve checks, the last successful deliveries and the last processed payments we've done with your store were against policy?" Yes.
"No one has ever, ever asked me where the issuing bank was," I told him. I should have been asked, I said. "What are you worried about, that this local bank doesn't exist?" It's company policy, he said. He was just seething with condescention. I searched my phone in vain for the "strangle" button.
"Okay." Call over.
My wife, sadly, is of the more forgiving sort. She called twenty minutes later. Mark had suddenly changed his tune. "As long as the customer's street address is on the check, it's okay. We just can't take checks with P.O. boxes."
Why, why did we have to give him our business? Oh yeah, we hungry.
I have dozens of stories. I'm sure you do, too. From cashiers that just throw your change on the counter to restaurants that require "minimum purchase" amounts before they'll take your plastic (which is against the credit card companies' policies, and you bet your sweet bippy I report 'em), some days I'm convinced supposedly struggling yet deserving operations don't want your business.
So here's the place to vent. Tell us who to avoid. And I'll start with an unexpected addition to my list.
The setup? My family and I have a weekly pizza tradition. Every Friday, we either go up to Boston's in Manoa, or we just call Papa John's for delivery. Always Papa John's, because I'm a sucker for that garlic sauce. Did I mention every week? We must've gotten two dozen pizzas this year so far, all processed by their McCully location, since they're the closest. We even order online, and voila, pizza guy arrives. Ah, city life!
So today, pizza day, I call, I place my order, they ask for a method of payment, I say check. We've always paid by check. We sometimes have to give a check number, or a social security number, but whatever. I'm very attached to checks.
For the first time in, easily, two years, they asked me what bank. I told them. They asked what bank address was on the check. Baffled, I told them. It was a P.O. Box. "We can't take that check." From this point on, things got incredibly unpleasant.
I told them it's a local bank. I told them the physical address of the bank. But he was resolute. No deal. I asked to speak to the manager. "I am the manager," he growled. Mark was his name. Mark just made The List. He said it was company policy. I asked, "Since when?" Always. "So let me get this straight. The last twelve checks, the last successful deliveries and the last processed payments we've done with your store were against policy?" Yes.
"No one has ever, ever asked me where the issuing bank was," I told him. I should have been asked, I said. "What are you worried about, that this local bank doesn't exist?" It's company policy, he said. He was just seething with condescention. I searched my phone in vain for the "strangle" button.
"Okay." Call over.
My wife, sadly, is of the more forgiving sort. She called twenty minutes later. Mark had suddenly changed his tune. "As long as the customer's street address is on the check, it's okay. We just can't take checks with P.O. boxes."
Why, why did we have to give him our business? Oh yeah, we hungry.
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