I have a bad habit.
It's disgusting, low-class, filthy, degrading, cheap and makes me feel naughty.
I...like...McDonald's iced coffee - THERE! I said it! Ewwwwwwwww....
I can't help it! Starbucks changed their recipe earlier in the year to something that makes my face contort and my stomach want to climb my esophagus so as to be close enough to hit me in the brain. My company only serves hot Pete's Coffee, which isn't bad, but they have an ice machine that is WAY too small for the number of people in this office; a fact which nearly caused violent revolt this summer as the A/C was repeatedly going out and we're on the third floor in a very hot city. I was looking everywhere for drinkable iced bean and I wasn't satisfied until I let a friend of mine talk me into trying one of the cheap knockoffs.
...then something that is very rare with cheap knockoffs occurred: I found myself wondering why I ever paid for the mainstream brand name.
Well, I know why: Starbucks was better. Was. As in, past tense. Now, McDonald's has a comparatively tasty coffee drink for nearly half the price. And since I'm embarrassed to go anywhere near a pair of Golden Arches, I find myself less motivated to go get it and spending less money in total anyway, so it works out.
That being said, I am boycotting the McDonald's drive through on one gripe alone: they have actually managed to become so gigantic in economic and cultural status that they can afford to be so stupendously pretentious as to have a sign in FRONT of their drive through - BEFORE THE MENU, MIND YOU - that says, "Please have your order ready".
I'm sorry, what?
What does it mean when a company can become so large and so culturally pervasive that they can (1) order their patrons about and (2) assume that their menu is so vital to our everyday existence that we know what it is when we awake in the morning and we won't need a brief review of it before ordering lunch because it's all we've thought about while slaving away at our clown-less jobs?!? It means that we need to honestly evaluate the venues we patronize with a morally and principally responsible eye!
...*sip*...shudder...ahhhhhhhh, tasty...Thank heaven for the Ronald McDonald Foundation, eh?
Friday, September 12, 2008
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
The duality of what we wish for can be so cruel
Now here is something as simultaneously as amazing as it is frightening- they have officially created the world's coolest game controller, and it fits on your head! That's right, a headgear device that reads the electromagnetic shifts in your brain pattern in order to recognize up to 30 different thought patterns...and counting.
As a gamer, I am drooling in anticipation of the unbelievably immersing game experiences that this could lead to. This could lead to diving into virtual worlds where more detail than ever is possible, where an unprecedented level of control would be a barrier that is regularly shattered! And the military aspects? This could lead to one-man tanks by turning over control of the tracks to the tanker's innate sense of motion, and the weapon system to his eye movement, effectively creating mecha! These are things I could have only dreamed of while I was inside the steel monsters. Never scoff at the nerds, they are the ones who shape the future.
However, as a realist I am wetting myself at the potential dangers of this. Anyone ever heard of "force-feedback" joysticks? They were all the gaming rage 15 or so years ago because they made that flight simulator more realistic. Well, if this technical miracle can read my thoughts by contact now, then how long is it until it's reading my thoughts from a distance? And then how long until these mind-reading mechanical marvels are capable of force-feedback, or just force-feeding?!? See Appleseed: Ex Machina for a good example of the danger this could cause.
I suppose until there is an army of hypnotized video-game addicts, we don't have to worry. After all, this technology can't possibly advance that quickly...
Monday, September 8, 2008
Terrifying thoughts and a furious rant.
Yes, there will be cursing.
As of the 4th I was a one-year veteran of my company. Oh joy, oh bliss. What was most sad about it though was that the celebration of my iron endurance and professional dedication went completely unceremoniously and unnoticed unless I mentioned it; my boss said nothing, my supervisor said nothing, my coworkers said nothing. One year anniversaries are so rare here that no one even expects them, let alone mentions them. Even if one of your co-workers thinks about it, it's with more of a shudder of sympathy than a clap of celebration; it's kind of like surviving one year in a gulag, who really wants to be congratulated on that?!
That may have been the saddest part, but the most terrifying part was when I mentioned my survival rate to a coworker and his response was, "Congrats! Ah yes, I remember my one-year, then I blinked and it was four."
FOUR?!?! Fucking-A! Where do I work, a black hole?!?
Pass too closely and your life stretches out into an infinitely long period of time; enter it directly and there is nothing but oblivion as your very sense of self is disintegrated into a billion pieces and absorbed into the very core of the space-time-anomaly! Resistance is futile...
ARGH! No! Must....escape....doom!
Luckily, I've been getting calls from different recruiters so there may be some event on the horizon (a little astro-physics joke there, did I make anyone giggle?). These calls have been the ultimate vindication too, nothing like people coming looking for you to make you feel good after a year of the nagging sensation that four years in the Army and four years of college hasn't provided you with enough experience or marketable skills. That and those two Google creators being only 7 years older than I but worth $19 billion more. Ugh.
Now, a bit of ranting (like you didn't see this coming...):
To the NOAH'S BAGELS in Roseville: Try hiring someone with a friendly attitude if you want repeat customers. If what happened to me on Saturday happens again, I may consider opening a bagel shop myself just to try to run you out of business, or at least steal a significant portion of your customers. (For the record, no, I wouldn't, I like my Saturday mornings...but I feel like it).
My wife and I go into Noah's pretty damned hungry. It's busy and the wait is long but we accept that because we were too lazy to make breakfast ourselves. What I didn't expect was some of the worst service I've received, ever.
My wife orders a "veggie" breakfast panini; the other option was a bacon panini but we don't eat pork. And, by the way, I'm pretty tired of people giving me crap because I don't eat pork just because I'm married to someone who doesn't. Most people get all freaked out and paranoid that I'm judging them when I say I don't eat pork and they try to convince me of all the health benefits of eating pig. I'm not judging you, what goes in my gut is my choice, not yours, get over it!
Anyway, my wife's veggie panini comes out with no veggies but a lot of bacon. I then spend three minutes (yes I'm exaggerating) standing at the counter trying to get the attention of one of the many teenagers packed into the cooking area like Los Angeles landscape artists in a pickup truck (OH! Political incorrectness alert!). When I finally do, he greets me through an eyes half closed, probably Ritalin-induced, MTV-brain expression and says, "yeah?"
I am now a thrilled and excited customer, in awe of the care and concern they show for my order. And in case you're saying "well they were busy and probably just stressed out" hear this: I worked at Starbucks and I had to be cheery to people as early as 5:30 in the morning while I knew I had to go and study for a business degree in eight hours and I fucking did it with a smile on my face so this little narcissistic teenage new-century-coddled pissant can suck it up and learn the value of customer service.
*Ahem* I apologize, I digressed. I point at the bacon panini and say, "This was supposed to be a veggie." Without a word to me, this kid takes the basket and turns to another of his co-workers who is hurriedly getting someone else's order wrong and says, "this was supposed to be a veggie." She sighs, curls her lip, rolls her eyes and droops her shoulders the way a four-year-old would if you told them they had to clean their room before they could play with their toys. She takes the basket, and he turns and walks away without saying anything. Nothing. No, "we're sorry, we'll get that fixed", nothing!
But it gets worse.
When my order is "complete", I take it back to my wife, who is so hungry she's staring at the doggy bagel bites and drooling. When she opens it up to put some pepper in it, however, there's a chunk of bacon sitting right there saying, "Ha-ha! Missed me!" They actually just hap-hazardly took the bacon off and threw the veggies on top of it! What the hell?!? What if this was a food allergy, not a personal choice?!? I mean, has customer support and business ethics gone THAT far out the window that those kids thought this was an okay way to fix someone's order? A half-veggie half-bacon breakfast panini was not what I paid for!
The manager on duty scoffed at his pathetic excuse for a workforce when I took it too him and he, to HIS credit, gave my money back to me in cash and apologized. Mr. Curly Head, you are the ONLY reason I may consider returning to that shop at some point in the future. Should I return, be proud that your professionalism and customer care kept some small portion of revenue for your shop. If I do not, then take that professionalism and customer service attitude with you as it will serve you well in all your future endeavors.
As of the 4th I was a one-year veteran of my company. Oh joy, oh bliss. What was most sad about it though was that the celebration of my iron endurance and professional dedication went completely unceremoniously and unnoticed unless I mentioned it; my boss said nothing, my supervisor said nothing, my coworkers said nothing. One year anniversaries are so rare here that no one even expects them, let alone mentions them. Even if one of your co-workers thinks about it, it's with more of a shudder of sympathy than a clap of celebration; it's kind of like surviving one year in a gulag, who really wants to be congratulated on that?!
That may have been the saddest part, but the most terrifying part was when I mentioned my survival rate to a coworker and his response was, "Congrats! Ah yes, I remember my one-year, then I blinked and it was four."
FOUR?!?! Fucking-A! Where do I work, a black hole?!?
Pass too closely and your life stretches out into an infinitely long period of time; enter it directly and there is nothing but oblivion as your very sense of self is disintegrated into a billion pieces and absorbed into the very core of the space-time-anomaly! Resistance is futile...
ARGH! No! Must....escape....doom!
Luckily, I've been getting calls from different recruiters so there may be some event on the horizon (a little astro-physics joke there, did I make anyone giggle?). These calls have been the ultimate vindication too, nothing like people coming looking for you to make you feel good after a year of the nagging sensation that four years in the Army and four years of college hasn't provided you with enough experience or marketable skills. That and those two Google creators being only 7 years older than I but worth $19 billion more. Ugh.
Now, a bit of ranting (like you didn't see this coming...):
To the NOAH'S BAGELS in Roseville: Try hiring someone with a friendly attitude if you want repeat customers. If what happened to me on Saturday happens again, I may consider opening a bagel shop myself just to try to run you out of business, or at least steal a significant portion of your customers. (For the record, no, I wouldn't, I like my Saturday mornings...but I feel like it).
My wife and I go into Noah's pretty damned hungry. It's busy and the wait is long but we accept that because we were too lazy to make breakfast ourselves. What I didn't expect was some of the worst service I've received, ever.
My wife orders a "veggie" breakfast panini; the other option was a bacon panini but we don't eat pork. And, by the way, I'm pretty tired of people giving me crap because I don't eat pork just because I'm married to someone who doesn't. Most people get all freaked out and paranoid that I'm judging them when I say I don't eat pork and they try to convince me of all the health benefits of eating pig. I'm not judging you, what goes in my gut is my choice, not yours, get over it!
Anyway, my wife's veggie panini comes out with no veggies but a lot of bacon. I then spend three minutes (yes I'm exaggerating) standing at the counter trying to get the attention of one of the many teenagers packed into the cooking area like Los Angeles landscape artists in a pickup truck (OH! Political incorrectness alert!). When I finally do, he greets me through an eyes half closed, probably Ritalin-induced, MTV-brain expression and says, "yeah?"
I am now a thrilled and excited customer, in awe of the care and concern they show for my order. And in case you're saying "well they were busy and probably just stressed out" hear this: I worked at Starbucks and I had to be cheery to people as early as 5:30 in the morning while I knew I had to go and study for a business degree in eight hours and I fucking did it with a smile on my face so this little narcissistic teenage new-century-coddled pissant can suck it up and learn the value of customer service.
*Ahem* I apologize, I digressed. I point at the bacon panini and say, "This was supposed to be a veggie." Without a word to me, this kid takes the basket and turns to another of his co-workers who is hurriedly getting someone else's order wrong and says, "this was supposed to be a veggie." She sighs, curls her lip, rolls her eyes and droops her shoulders the way a four-year-old would if you told them they had to clean their room before they could play with their toys. She takes the basket, and he turns and walks away without saying anything. Nothing. No, "we're sorry, we'll get that fixed", nothing!
But it gets worse.
When my order is "complete", I take it back to my wife, who is so hungry she's staring at the doggy bagel bites and drooling. When she opens it up to put some pepper in it, however, there's a chunk of bacon sitting right there saying, "Ha-ha! Missed me!" They actually just hap-hazardly took the bacon off and threw the veggies on top of it! What the hell?!? What if this was a food allergy, not a personal choice?!? I mean, has customer support and business ethics gone THAT far out the window that those kids thought this was an okay way to fix someone's order? A half-veggie half-bacon breakfast panini was not what I paid for!
The manager on duty scoffed at his pathetic excuse for a workforce when I took it too him and he, to HIS credit, gave my money back to me in cash and apologized. Mr. Curly Head, you are the ONLY reason I may consider returning to that shop at some point in the future. Should I return, be proud that your professionalism and customer care kept some small portion of revenue for your shop. If I do not, then take that professionalism and customer service attitude with you as it will serve you well in all your future endeavors.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
