So Not a Pleasure
Dear Publix,
You've betrayed me again you dirty rotten whore. I have been a loyal customer my entire adult life, and remember my mother shopping at you since we move to Florida 27 years ago. You had it going on with your clean, well-lit stores, your baggers who wouldn't accept tips, and your customer service. Man, your customer service really did make "shopping a pleasure." I would drive across town to pay your exorbitant prices any day for that customer service. And you gladly hired the disabled which was the best part.
Lately you've been slipping. I thought it was just the store in my new neighborhood, but I'm discovering that it is all of your stores. Your staff is downright surly. I am tired of your produce manager almost hitting me with his cart each time, then rolling his eyes and sighing as if I the customer is in his fucking way. I'm tired of your cashiers neither greeting nor thanking me. I'm tired of your 15 year old baggers staring blankly at me while I have a cart full of groceries to take out to the car. An offer to help would be so nice. And as much as it pains me and gives me the willies to bring this up, last summer there were FLIES in the produce department swarming over the rotten onions. What have you become--Food Lion? I had blocked that from my memory until this very moment.
Last night I had to argue about the price of a pineapple which kept ringing up wrong. It was clearly on sale. I could tell by the 4'X 4' poster behind it which said so. The clueless bag girl went back twice and finally saw the enormous sale sign. While standing in line during this excruciating time while everyone in line behind me thinks whatever is going on is my fault, I saw that you had the gall to sell a book about the art of Publix customer service. Obviously that art has gone out of style. I ended up getting the pineapple for free. I also got to push my cart out and unload it myself. In the rain. I'll see you next week though because I have no other viable options until they build a Super Target in my area.
I hate you.
You've betrayed me again you dirty rotten whore. I have been a loyal customer my entire adult life, and remember my mother shopping at you since we move to Florida 27 years ago. You had it going on with your clean, well-lit stores, your baggers who wouldn't accept tips, and your customer service. Man, your customer service really did make "shopping a pleasure." I would drive across town to pay your exorbitant prices any day for that customer service. And you gladly hired the disabled which was the best part.
Lately you've been slipping. I thought it was just the store in my new neighborhood, but I'm discovering that it is all of your stores. Your staff is downright surly. I am tired of your produce manager almost hitting me with his cart each time, then rolling his eyes and sighing as if I the customer is in his fucking way. I'm tired of your cashiers neither greeting nor thanking me. I'm tired of your 15 year old baggers staring blankly at me while I have a cart full of groceries to take out to the car. An offer to help would be so nice. And as much as it pains me and gives me the willies to bring this up, last summer there were FLIES in the produce department swarming over the rotten onions. What have you become--Food Lion? I had blocked that from my memory until this very moment.
Last night I had to argue about the price of a pineapple which kept ringing up wrong. It was clearly on sale. I could tell by the 4'X 4' poster behind it which said so. The clueless bag girl went back twice and finally saw the enormous sale sign. While standing in line during this excruciating time while everyone in line behind me thinks whatever is going on is my fault, I saw that you had the gall to sell a book about the art of Publix customer service. Obviously that art has gone out of style. I ended up getting the pineapple for free. I also got to push my cart out and unload it myself. In the rain. I'll see you next week though because I have no other viable options until they build a Super Target in my area.
I hate you.
Labels: Letters, Pet Peeves, Shopping
posted by Cory at 9:45 AM
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