THE TRIALS OF-ENDURING JOEPUBLIC
As members of Joe Public, and yes I have composed a "trial" on that very subject, we are all too well aware of the stresses and strains we are compelled to endure. However, what of those who's field of employment compels them to be subjected to Joe Public on a daily basis, and therefore find themselves on the receiving end of their anger and frustration?
Do they deserve what Joe Public "dishes out" to them; or do they not?
Everyone who deals with the general public, in whatever capacity, has somewhere along the line encountered "the complainer". It's everyone's right to complain, but there are those members of Joe Public who make a vocation out of it whether they need to or not. No matter how good the service is, how varied the menu is, or how well cooked the meal is, they will find something to complain about as the evening would be a complete waste of time if they didn't. I worked with someone who was like that. I often wondered why he and his wife ate out so often if everywhere they went was so awful, until he joined us for the departmental Christmas dinner. The entire company thought the food was lovely and the service excellent, but Mr Complainer extraordinaire had to find something wrong with it and complained loudly and bitterly to the waitress about some insignificant flaw attached to the proceedings and I wondered why. I concluded that Mr Complainer extraordinaire behaved in such a manner for several reasons; firstly because he suffered from feelings of inferiority and complaining loudly in restaurants and picking on a long suffering waitress was a way to generate feelings of superiority and therefore counteract this negative aspect of his character. Secondly, he knew his feelings of inferiority were not without foundation as others did not view him with the same degree of calibre as he did himself and if he didn't draw attention to himself by complaining loudly in restaurants, no one would notice he was there and thirdly, as the manager he believed dining out was a treat for his underlings whereas it was an everyday occurrence for himself, and he had to let them know what sort of service a man of his calibre would be satisfied with, as opposed to the standard of service that "we-who-know-no-better," would bask in.
Complaints however can have a positive influence. Having left full time employment, I found myself with time on my hands which was becoming more and more difficult to fill. The desire for a degree of social interaction, with the added advantage of a modest boost in income, inspired me to take a part time job in a nearby Pizza parlour and unless I find myself in a state of such financial embarrassment that I have to beg on the street, it will be my last! However I did derive a considerable degree of mirth from reading the customer comment cards during slack periods; not quite the effect I believe the Mr Complainers of society would have liked them to have but when you work in a Pizza parlour, you have to get your "kicks" somehow. Some of the comment cards were really dull and unimaginative, such as ticking the "No" box in response to every question, but others were absolute gems. My favourite complaint was perhaps the person who complained bitterly that the door of the restaurant opened the wrong way. Their justification for this complaint was that the door should push open not pull open, a fact they where alerted to only after having made several unsuccessful attempts to open the door and while this person was dining, they counted the number of people who made the same mistake which came to a grand total of eight. I wondered if this person seriously thought the restaurant owners would follow their directive and replace the door with one that pulled open purely for their benefit, or was it just a way to vent their frustrations at their own inadequacy; a technological inability in deducing how to open a door? I personally would recommend a different manner of venting frustrations, like writing a "trial", as the majority of people who read the card thought, what sad individual sits in a restaurant and counts the number of people who can't open a door? Get a life!
Another complaint I frequently came across on the comment cards, was the lack of baby changing facilities available despite the big green and white sign on the door of the disabled toilet that stated in big, bold, letters "Baby changing facilities here." I wonder if one of those complaints came from one of the eight people who couldn't open the restaurant door. The complaints where also very consistent with some of the questions I was asked when taking orders such as; how big is nine inches, what exactly are chillies and what do you think I would like to eat? On one occasion I was asked if the chicken was white or brown meat and I was sorely tempted to reply to the affect that it was a pizza place and the chicken was probably processed beaks, feathers and feet that had been swept off the factory floor never mind white or brown, but I decided discretion was the better part of valour and said I would check with the manager. Unfortunately he was of the opinion that the chicken was probably processed beaks, feathers and feet they swept off the factory floor as well but advised me to say it was processed chicken and therefore, indeterminate.
