Leaving with A Frown

Yesterday afternoon, I made a special trip from Central Wellington to an Upper Hutt delicatessen -

Cameron Harrison Butchery - to buy some organic-in-glass milk, to provide some easy post-dental-work sustenance.

I've shopped there several times in the past year, with mixed experiences regarding the quality of customer service. The first time was excellent . . . and it kept me going back, despite becoming less and less impressed on each subsequent visit.

But yesterday's "customer service" was, quite frankly, bloody awful.

I'd taken a chilly bin in with me to keep the multiple bottles of milk and other chilled products I intended to buy, cold, on the long drive home.

Having gotten them all to the counter (with no other customers in the store) here are some key points about my unimpressive experience:

Revolting & Disrespectful:  Scratching Dried Blood off Arms While 'Serving'

- The young bloke that served me had dried blood all up the inside of one of his arms. One can only hope it was butchery-related and not his own.

- Said young bloke continued - for the entirety of the time he was "serving" me - a loud personal conversation he was having with his fellow worker across the other side of the store, largely ignoring me except for ringing up the items on the till.

- Said young bloke continued his loud, across-the-store, personal conversation while I loaded up all my items into my chilly bin, unaided.

-  Given that I had four GLASS bottles of milk that were mobile in the hard-shell chilli bin, I asked if he had any paper or cardboard boxes or any sort of material out the back that I could scrunch around the breakables to get them home in one piece. He replied:  "Nuh."

- I pointed out the large pile of boxes clearly visible just a few metres away - to which he replied that:  "They're not empty." (One was lying on its side on the floor and was clearly empty.)

- I asked if he was sure there was nothing else lying around (remember what sort of store this is and consider how much bulk stock must surely come in a variety of forms of packaging) to help me get the glass bottles home unbroken.  "Nuh."



- He then began vigorously brushing off the dried blood from his arm/s behind the till, making me exceedingly glad that he had made no offer of assistance to pack my chilli bin.

- I asked if the shop had a business card:  "Nuh."

- I was then left to open the heavy door for myself and struggle through it with a heavy chilli bin, with two staff members in a shop with no other customers.

A memorable visit for all the wrong reasons.