When your job is centered around directly doing something for someone else, there are many times when you have to swallow your pride, smile and move on. This is the essence of customer service. It's what you have to do in order to get people to come back.
You also have to make your current customers feel happy and comfortable. When there's one of you juggling a line of people, and whatever else may come your way, it can get stressful.
Every customer service job will have its share of bad customers. Downtown Phoenix, though, is unique to me. There are so many different kinds of people here—which is probably true of any big city—that it becomes impossible to predict who you'll meet next.
So when you get those bad customers and those bad experiences, it's bad.
The rush
When you've only got two people on shift and you have a line of people demanding caffeine, it can rattle you.
When I came on shift that day, it was about 2 p.m., so it wasn't quite the lunch rush, but it was that late afternoon "I need this to get through the rest of the day without banging my head against a wall" coffee rush.
When there's only two of you, there's only so much you can do. One of you takes orders, the other makes drinks. It's much faster to write than it is to make a drink, so the backup of drinks gets a little overwhelming. In those cases, I usually would stop taking orders and do what I could to help expedite the process for the customers who had already been waiting. Logical, right?
"Pardon me, ma'am, while I help make some of these drinks that we have waiting. I'll be back in just a minute to take your order."
"Excuse me, where do you think you're going?"
I thought I just explained this.
"In order to get everyone's drinks out in a timely manner, I'm just going to alleviate the traffic we have of the drinks here."
"Literally all I want is a latte. Can't you just ring me up now?"
"I can absolutely ring you up now, but then your drink will go into the line behind the other drinks."
"I thought coffee was supposed to be fast."
If you want drip coffee, maybe.
"I'm really sorry, ma'am, but unfortunately, there's nothing I can do about the wait. I can assure you, though, that we're going as fast as we can to make every customer a quality product."
(For those of you wondering, I actually am this articulate. When you're bad at math and science, you might as well become really, really good at English.)
"This is ridiculous. Starbucks goes so much faster than this."
Starbucks has way more people on staff at once, and they have lots of automation involved in their process. So if you want the speed and quality of Starbucks, go to Starbucks.
"I apologize again, ma'am. Would you still like me to ring that latte up for you?"
"You might as well."
The crazies and the vagrants
Working in the back at Fair Trade Cafè was nice because you just get to bake delicious-smelling goods, create delicious-looking food and, best of all, jam out to your own music.
It's great for those days that aren't going so well for you and your customer service voice isn't as peppy as it could be. It's also nice to kind of collapse in on yourself and get into a groove of doing one thing. It clears your head and gives you something to focus on.
Of course, then that peace is sometimes interrupted by a stark-raving homeless lady bursting in the doors and yelling at people.
I remember that on this day, my best friend and I were working together—a rare occasion—and I heard lots of loud voices coming from the front. I probably should've known something was wrong then because she's a pretty mild-mannered person.
Sure enough, she comes back with a slightly panicky, mostly worried look in her eyes.
"Nicole, there's some crazy lady bothering people, and she won't leave. I don't know what more to do."
I walk into the shop to see a woman with sun-baked skin, a shaved head and tears in her eyes yelling at our customers. She looked homeless and was dressed in oddly heavy clothing for the hotter months of the year. She had a stuffed animal—I think it was a dog—poking out of her shirt. She was carrying a long-sleeved flannel shirt that was stuffed so that it looked like a headless torso and arms on her hip like a baby.
Wanting to keep my distance, I stayed behind the counter as I confronted her.
"Ma'am, is there something I can help you with?"
"You're killing my animals!"
"I'm sorry?"
"They're burning alive! My animals and I are burning alive! You're burning us!"
"I'm really sorry about that. Now, I'm going to ask you to calm down. Is there anything I can get for you?"
"I want water."
"I can definitely do that for you."
I walked just as quickly as my little legs would carry me and hastily filled a plastic cup full of water. I walked around and brought it to her. When I handed her the glass, she gave me this look of utter hatred and disdain.
"Can I get some ice in this?" she asked caustically.
Not wanting a confrontation, I said "sure." Before she handed me the cup, she chugged the entire cup of water in one long gulp with lots of uncomfortable eye contact.
When I gave her the new ice water, I had to give that uncomfortable ultimatum—from behind the safety of the bar, of course.
"Ma'am, here's your ice water. You're making our customers very uncomfortable, and I'm going to have to ask you to leave. If you come back, I'll be forced to call the police."
She simply grabbed the cup and walked back outside onto Central Avenue.
The self-righteous know-it-all
Coffee shops—and any business, really—has rules. Ultimately it is a business, and as much as I feel for the people who come in without money or who just need a bathroom, I need to keep my job. So I follow the rules.
One of the more strict rules we had at FTC was that restrooms are for customers only, a common sentiment among business owners. This rule became especially necessary after a homeless man tried to bathe himself in the sink; he literally sat in the sink and it fell off the wall and shattered on the floor. I know that not every person will do this, but, as I said, I want to keep my job.
Again, I had come on shift around 2:00 or 3:00 on a Sunday, one of our busier times. There are usually a lot of non-regular customers, so sometimes it's hard to keep track of who's come in when.
This man comes up to me dressed in bike shorts and an athletic shirt and asks if we have a restroom, to which I reply, "Yes, but it's for customers only. Sorry!" For all I know, this guy had just come in from his morning bike ride and needed relief.
He nodded and walked over to the bathroom.
I don't like it when people dismiss my authority because I'm young or especially because I'm a young woman. So, as I prepared for my shift, I kept an eye on him.
Sure enough, when the customer brought the key out and placed it on the counter, he grabbed it and walked over.
"Sir, I'm sorry, but those are for customers only."
"Really? Why don't you go back to your women's studies major or whatever it is and leave me alone."
...
Excuse me?!
"Excuse me?!"
Never have I been so angry—so blind-with-rage, wanting-to-cry, punch-a-wall angry—that I could not swallow my pride and shrug it off. There are times when the customer is not right, and in this instance, I felt justified to say so.
"My women's studies major? Are you serious?"
He pulled out a receipt and shoved it toward my face.
"I was in here earlier. Maybe you should just trust that I'm not an idiot."
"I don't have to trust you for anything. All you had to do was show me the receipt instead of insult me with a rude, demeaning and stereotyping joke."
To this day, I do not regret telling that customer my true thoughts. I considered in that moment that saying what I wanted could potentially risk my job, but there are times when you have to tell someone when they are being unreasonable, unfair and wrong.
Customer service takes a lot out of you, but there are the days when you can make someone's day. There are days when your kindness and genuine heart will make someone's day and they'll let you know. One customer told me to ring him up for a cookie, choose my favorite one and eat it on my break. Not all customer service is horror; you just have to be aware of the battles.
Reach the columnist at Nicole.Tyau@asu.edu and on Twitter @nicoletyau_ASU.
Nicole Tyau is a sophomore at ASU and also works for The State Press as an opinions columnist. She is majoring in journalism with a focus in print and multimedia. One of the biggest tools in her written arsenal is sarcasm, so enjoy the ride and don’t take it too seriously.
