Service

that pie in the sky, lofty, gilt-edged “gift” that all consumers vaguely hope to receive from those in the industry. Being a woman and thus often thrown ass-over-tip into the consumer cauldron I am forced to recklessly remove the lid off Pandora’s box and question why service levels are so appalling on every level in society where there’s a supplier and an end-user?

From supermarkets to medical aids, having your vehicle serviced to purchasing a cellphone – the customer is no longer king, in fact being the serf’s factotum is probably closer to the truth. Can you see Nero putting up with this drivel? Would he have settled for a vaguely fresh bunch of grapes instead of a vineyard? And Cleopatra, well Cleo would have had the perpetrators fed to the crocodiles!

After slaving away in my own work-pod for multiple hours, a lack of interest is guaranteed to engender thoughts of mayhem that are not easily suppressed. What price “Good evening and Thank You” – a word to the wise, having a vocal discussion with your colleague about your love life, errant spouse or medical ailment while I am valiantly trying to part with some of my pennies into your ever voracious cash register will make me take my business elsewhere.

Industrial powerhouses should bear witness to the fact that people will (or should if they have any illusions of making a difference) vote with their feet and with the ever expanding generation of twitter, skype, e-mail and all other electronic communication the word will spread like some contagion (now I am cognisant of the fact that it all sounds like a rallying cry for political reform, unintended – I’m just \”gatvol\”.