Bad Mood Mud

by Amy Platon

I was out on Sunday running errands and I had the unfortunate pleasure of dealing with several (as in more than three) bitter customer service personnel. So, what’s the first thing I do? I blame myself. Maybe it’s me. Maybe I’m not coming across the right way. I am cringing even now as I type that. Because as memory does, it adds a tone of outcome to the dialogue, so I hear, nah nah nah. Nah neeh nah nah. Blah.

Without going into too much specific detail, I got nicer and nicer (on purpose) with each incident. I was even cheery. So then, I say to my daughter, “I know what will cheer us up (by us I mean me). We’ll go to the pet store!”

“Yeah!” She was totally on board with that one. So we pulled into the store that does pet rescue adoptions on the weekends. It’s the same store we rescued our dog from, about eight months earlier. We went in and had a good time looking at all the cute puppies, cats and bunnies. We even picked up a few toys for our dog. I did feel better. All better, in fact.

So, we sauntered over to the adoption desk to spread the cheer. “I just wanted to tell you, we adopted a dog from you all about eight months ago and…” Before I could even finish, the woman (who I adopted from) looked up over her sandwich to ask, “Do you still have it?” Her voice came down hard on the “have” you know what I mean? There was no room for misinterpretation. “Well yes. In fact, he’s great!” She looked back at her food, “Great, you need another one then.”

My eyes pushed themselves up into my head, and frankly I don’t blame them a bit. We had had enough! “I was just letting you know that we are very happy.” My mistake lady, I thought you cared about the dogs you placed.

But here’s the part I wish I said. People like you, in your pissy mood, can shove it. I get to say that, because I too am in customer service. So don’t tell me I don’t understand. I do understand. I get it that you’re having a bad day, but when you snap at me, this is what I see. I see you playing in your little mud puddle and you’ve just splashed me with your nasty little comment. I see you as an out of control child that isn’t behaving.

I grabbed my daughter’s hand, “Ewe! Honey, let’s go.” Because how am I supposed to raise a respectful little girl when people like that are over here getting us all dirty?

Grow up! Clean yourself off. Have a little respect. And if you can’t, then go take a break. Go get laid, something. You need some maintenance.

Huhhh, sorry for yelling. I just had to get that off my chest! I have to work tonight and I can’t harbor that, or I won’t make any money! There. All better.

Thanks for reading!