It takes a lot for me to ask to speak to a manager. Like, a lot.
I’ll eat the salad with the dressing not on the side. I’ll pick off the fish eggs. But occasionally, the grievance is too much or my beer count is too high and I must speak up for all of humanity.
I did my retail time as a shoe expert at Sports Authority during undergrad, so I rarely fall into the category of “I’m going to be a smart ass to a retail employee even though my complaint is direct proof that I’m an idiot because it shows that I obviously don’t understand that lower-rung retail employees have no control over corporate issues.” I spit in enough shoes in my day to learn that lesson.*
The category I do fall into is “You’re completely wrong and I would have been able to let it go and just think of you as a moron, but now you’re also being rude so let’s talk to your mother effing manager.”
My most recent “I’d like to speak to your manager” occurrence resulted from a conversation with the front desk at L.A. Fitness.
As I have mentioned before, L.A. Fitness does not follow the natural rules of “breaks,” because if you take a three-month break, they automatically begin charging your card again on the 93rd day.
Right, so basically I told L.A. Fitness to move its shit out and three months later it showed up with the U-Haul.
Umm, hello L.A. Fitness, I was jogging! For free! We had a great thing going. Then, you had to stroll back in and ruin it. $40 charge here. Tempting yoga class there.
Admittedly, I was a little upset when I noticed this broken boundary, but I decided to call up the locals and see if they could help me out. I didn’t expect too much because, well, I’m aware that many corporations operate on fine print and I was fairly sure that the right to resume billing following a membership freeze was clearly printed in 0.12 point font somewhere on my contract.
But I called. And after a short dialogue I was promised a return call the following day.
The following day, no call. So with heightened annoyance, I used part of my lunch break to return my own call.
It was during this dialogue that the tone on the receiving end forced me to utter the “I’d like to speak to the manager” ultimatum. And similar to the other five times I have uttered this awful line during a retail dispute, my world-changing passion for justice was met with the simple checkmate:
“I am the manager.”
*Okay, I didn’t actually spit in shoes, but I did occasionally sleep in the closed-off “Nike Shoe Room” and from time-to-time (everyday) I would pick a new pair of shoes to wear inside the store. Product research. That’s what it’s called. Okay, occasionally I also tested the shoe deodorant. And the Heelies. And the scooters. I WAS A GOOD EMPLOYEE.
P.S. Welcome to all new readers from ProBlogger.net! And if you’re a regular reader, please be sure to check out my recent guest post on ProBlogger.net, “Stick Out Your Finger (not that one!) And Create a Meaningful Blogging Experience.” It’s my biggest writing opportunity so far and I had a lot of fun writing it.