Cheap whore
Whenever I walk into a service-oriented environment, I know what to expect. The list of requirements include: friendly staff, good quality product, pretty things to experience.
Sometimes that's not the case, and it's up to me to alter the situation to my advantage. I am a consumer, after all.
Walking into the local Dairy Queen, I walk up to the counter and look up at the menu. The server comes up to the counter and asks me what I'm having. If it wasn't for the fact their staff turnover rate is as unstable as a suicidal/bi-polar/manic depressive, they should know that I always order the same thing. Grudgingly, I order.
She must be new, I think. I don't know how good she is. When she turns around, I go into my spiel.
"You know," I start, my elbows leaning on the counter, "whenever I come here, I always get better service than any other location."
"Really?" she says and cranes her neck around in my direction.
"Uh huh." I give her a smile and await her reaction. She smiles, and returns to whipping up my order.
"I don't know what it is, but this place is the best. I tell all my friends that." Is it working? Is she falling for it? She should, since I'm not lying. This place does give the best service... but it's usually due to me.
She's finished and places my order in front of me, on the counter. It's overflowing with gastronomic goodness.
"There you go. Enjoy!" she smiles enthusiastically.
"I know I will," I respond, a half-octave lower, tilting my head down and giving her a half-smile.
That's all it takes. Just like a cheap whore.
Call it manipulative. Call it whatever you want. Sometimes you have to do things that you're not proud of just to get what you want. The best part is you can do this in various interactive situations. And, the more you practice, the better you become.
No guilt. No shame.
I said I was cheap, not stupid.
Sometimes that's not the case, and it's up to me to alter the situation to my advantage. I am a consumer, after all.
Walking into the local Dairy Queen, I walk up to the counter and look up at the menu. The server comes up to the counter and asks me what I'm having. If it wasn't for the fact their staff turnover rate is as unstable as a suicidal/bi-polar/manic depressive, they should know that I always order the same thing. Grudgingly, I order.
She must be new, I think. I don't know how good she is. When she turns around, I go into my spiel.
"You know," I start, my elbows leaning on the counter, "whenever I come here, I always get better service than any other location."
"Really?" she says and cranes her neck around in my direction.
"Uh huh." I give her a smile and await her reaction. She smiles, and returns to whipping up my order.
"I don't know what it is, but this place is the best. I tell all my friends that." Is it working? Is she falling for it? She should, since I'm not lying. This place does give the best service... but it's usually due to me.
She's finished and places my order in front of me, on the counter. It's overflowing with gastronomic goodness.
"There you go. Enjoy!" she smiles enthusiastically.
"I know I will," I respond, a half-octave lower, tilting my head down and giving her a half-smile.
That's all it takes. Just like a cheap whore.
Call it manipulative. Call it whatever you want. Sometimes you have to do things that you're not proud of just to get what you want. The best part is you can do this in various interactive situations. And, the more you practice, the better you become.
No guilt. No shame.
I said I was cheap, not stupid.
Authored by S at 12:00 am
2 Comments:
Please, you should see what I do for a tank of gas...
Feel free to come over here and eat, any time. But, I wanna see what you'll do for it, BEFORE your tank gets filled with gas.
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