Why politeness shouldn’t be enforced
Mark Naser | Fulcrum Contributor
IMAGINE YOURSELF PICKING up a few groceries. You’re standing in line, and instead of perusing the cheap tabloids, you decide to check in with your partner to see if there’s anything you may have forgotten. But after placing your items on the belt, the cashier suddenly informs you that she won’t put them through until you end your phone call.
Such an exchange happened in early July at a Sainsbury’s, a British supermarket chain. While exact circumstances are foggy, the cashier reportedly found it rude that a customer was on the phone while simultaneously attempting the transaction. The customer complained to the manager who then offered an apology, but the mishap made international news.
It is rude to be yapping away on a cell phone while dealing with another person. Whether it’s a brief or extended exchange, the least someone can do is acknowledge the other and not reduce him or her to a robot. If most of us had to make or take a call, we’d apologize after or explain the urgency, or perhaps even frown apologetically to acknowledge the social taboo.
I recall only a few uncouth customers from my days working in retail. Most customers were fantastic—polite, friendly, and understanding when something didn’t work out their way. It was uplifting.
So whenever I had a rude customer, I’d take it in stride. One lady was upset that the display screen didn’t give her the information she wanted, so she dismissed the franchise as “antiquated” and left the store in a huff. No biggie. Anyone verbally abusive to store staff was justifiably booted from the store. If it persisted, mall security was only a quick call away.
This is pretty much the standard in any business, and I doubt this cashier in Britain was at the end of her rope after a particularly gruelling day. Why not just ring the customer through, then?
It’s not incredibly rewarding to work as a cashier. It’s not meant to be. It’s mundane work that’s slowly being replaced by self-checkout counters.
Perhaps she felt the need to bestow a lesson on the customer, as though she were afraid of the reflection of herself as a mere cog in a machine. But she should have learned to deal with these things.
The cashier is not Mary Poppins, who is paid to enforce good manners; she’s a cashier who is paid in part to let petty grievances go.
Granted, we don’t know the circumstances. Let’s imagine the customer was making an urgent call to her babysitter to see how her child was doing. That’s understandable. What if it was obnoxious banter with a girlfriend? Is there a point at which the cashier can justifiably refuse serving her?
Many might answer “yes,” but then where does it stop? When a customer abandoned a cart in the middle of the aisle, could I have told them that their business wasn’t welcome? Could I have instructed customers who sneezed into their hands to use their sleeve next time? Could I have told the customer who called the store “antiquated” that it was too bad we didn’t sell common decency?
Even if I knew I could get away with these things, I wouldn’t have. It’s not because the retail positions in question were the best I could have hoped for, but because serving others means suspending “holier-than-thou” criticism and judgment.
When you work for a business, you wear that company’s logo and assume its identity. Some professions even require you to wear the badge off-hours. It can be a little dehumanizing at times, but that’s the nature of retail. Thinking that you’re above the position and demanding that the customer meets your personal expectations is terribly misguided. It suggests a trifling need for personal fulfillment with every transaction.
The Sainsbury’s manager would have been well within his or her rights to suggest alternate employment—like etiquette school, for instance.
