cat in a bookstoreThanks to a Christmas gift from my brother, I’ve recently gotten into The Dark Tower series by Stephen King. To be honest, I’m a little embarrassed…Stephen King books are often considered a bit trashy. But this is an epic fantasy series, which is kind of right up my alley. After voraciously consuming the first two books, I marched to the book store (I like to support local shops) and had them order me books III and IV. They said they’d call me when they arrived, in about a week.

A week and a half later I had received no call. Since I work a block from the store, I stopped by to check in on the status of my order.

The staffer behind the front desk gave me an exasperated look. “WELL, did we call you?” I said “no”, a bit abashedly.

Exasperated look still in place, he pulled out the order log (analog, despite the 1980’s DOS-based computer they had on the desk). “Your name is Evan? Are they Stephen King books?” I nodded. He reached under the counter and pulled out my books. He avoided eye contact.

Had they just checked when I asked, I would have forgiven them not calling (maybe they just came in, maybe they’ve been swamped, etc). Instead, they made me feel bad…so when it turned out to be their fault, I mentally crucified them.

This probably won’t stop me from going back, but it’s strike one. Not every customer allows you three strikes.

Don’t assume, check. Or you’ll make an ass out of you and me (the customer).

Donkey photo courtesy of Klearchos.

Photo courtesy of toddalert.