Don't say Cheese!

Imagine that you are a supermarket manager. 

 A shopper comes up to the Customer Service Desk holding a block of cheese in a Ziploc bag and says, "I believe this cheese gave my husband food poisoning." 

What would you say?   

a - So sorry, that must have been awful!

b -  When did this happen?  How is your husband doing now?

c - Rest assured that we are going to look into this further to prevent others from getting sick.

d - None of the above

e - All of the above

The shopper was me, and this is what the store manager said:    

 

"Give me your husband's name... Now don't tell me what happened; write it down on the form - I will copy it from there...Do you two have the same last name?...Do you live at the same address?... Did he go to a doctor? No?  I wouldn't go either....OK, we're done here."

Let's just say his empathy was not mind blowing.  He looked like he was about my son's age.  I couldn't help myself.  I automatically put on my Mom hat.

I waited until he stepped out of the customer service area and asked if I could talk to him a minute. I'm sure he was thinking,  Isn't that what we just did? 

"I wish you had asked how my husband is doing and showed some compassion not only as the manager but person to person."

First, he looked shocked. Then he said he was sorry, he is usually different and that he doesn't know why he reacted as he did.        

When I left the store, I called David to tell him about my experience, expecting for us to be in agreement that the manager's attitude fell short of what seemed appropriate.    

David didn't say anything negative about the guy, so I interpreted that to mean that he thought I was hypersensitive.  (However, upon reading this, he explained that just talking about the cheese was grossing him out).     

Nonetheless, I told David that I let the boy know that I didn't appreciate his reaction.  

"Did you really feel the need to mother him?" David asked. 

Yes, I did. 

I realized I was probably hard on him, but I still found myself hoping that my kids would've handled the situation better.    

I also began thinking I may need to find a new supermarket.

The next day, I got a call.

"This is Judith from Quality Assurance.  I'm responding to the claim regarding David Minches.  Is he your husband?"  Yes, I answered.

"I just heard what happened.  I am so sorry!" she said. "We pride ourselves on taking care of our customers. Is your husband OK?"   

She apologized a half dozen times, offered to send us a gift card and thanked me for stopping in to let them know our concerns.  She ended the conversation with one last "I'm so sorry your husband had to go through this."

I'm sure I'll go back with the gift card, but I'm rather doubtful that I'll ever buy cheese for David again.  I can't see him taking another bite of what he always liked snacking on BFP (before food poisoning).   

That Judith provided admirable customer service!  No wonder, with a name like that (although I'm Judy, not Judith)!  In fact, I asked her if she worked at the store near our home.  If the answer had been yes, I would've gone in to thank her in person for her most welcomed approach.

Oh yea - several days later, David's starting to feel better.