I'm sure this saga is endlessly fascinating to all my poor friends who have had to listen to it over the past couple of weeks - I have gotten tired of thinking about it. And it's silly, really, it's only a pair of glasses. But I'm still MAD! I carefully selected the doctor based on largely positive reviews. I liked him, the office was clean and they seemed well-equipped. Then they started down this path of excessive flattery and incompetent work and I'm so irritated that I can't continue to see the doctor that I genuinely liked because his co-workers are unprofessional asshats.
I went back to Embassy Opticians yesterday to choose my replacement frames. Initially they left me alone but as they realized I wasn't going to chew them out for breaking my frames they got more and more friendly, falling into their habit of flattery - unbearable enough with one person but completely out of control when three people are talking over each other - until finally one of them (the store manager) said "we've had such bad luck with Martha's order, it's really too bad because she's so sweet!"
So. Sweet. "Bad luck"? No, you know what actually happened? You messed up my order, broke my glasses and assumed that if you flatter me, tell me I'm pretty and make all kinds of promises to get me what I need without actually getting me what I need, I won't get mad about it. Here's the thing: they were clearly right. In the face of all that niceness (fake as it was) I couldn't get mad. I felt mad, sure, but I couldn't express it. I just shrugged and said nothing, picked out my frames, and left. By the way, they gave me a loaner pair of glasses and furtively expressed that no one would ask for them back. They're probably hoping that I don't write a negative yelp review. Next time I go in there I should tell them exactly why I'm never going back. We'll see if I actually do it.
Ask yourself this: if they had messed up the glasses of a 23 year old man, would they have tried to ease his irritation by complimenting his bone structure? I think not. Somehow calling a guy "sweetheart" doesn't have the same power.
They wouldn't have tried to compliment his bone structure, but probably would have talked about how handsome he is, and how big his balls must be to have the fortitude to put up with all this "bad luck" and the mettle to handle it with such gentlemanly class. Surely, women must be throwing themselves at the feet of this exemplar of strength, this archetype of character, this embodiment of all that is righteous and good in the world.
ReplyDeleteI guess we know how butter you up when necessary!
ReplyDelete