Maclife

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I walked in for the first time and was met by a cyborg of a woman who smiled as if it were costing her her life to do so and to call it pained would be an understatement. I showed her my new I phone and said, "My boss just bought this for me!" she winced another upward curve of her mouth out and said, "Fine." I asked about an accessory product for it. She sighed, silently walked over to a counter, put out three of the items, crossed her arms and stood back. I asked her some questions about the items which she refused to answer completely, mostly preferring to grunt single syllables and stare over my head out the window. I began to wonder if this was a joke. Was this a training exercise on how to provide poor customer service? I looked around, no one else in store and realized I was alone in a hostile environment. I asked one more question, was met with stony silence and then made my exit. Had I been at Harry Winston in New York City I might have understood being treated as if I were an unworthy street urchin who had wandered into their store, but a local business that was selling something I wanted? I went to Office Dept around the corner, got what I needed for $25 less and told my story of Mac Underworld Horror. The girl there said she cringes when she has to send a customer to that store because they are so mean and unhelpful. I am still thinking about going back and giving her a piece of my mind, but this way, hopefully her boss will read it. And if she is the owner, she needs to go find another job handing out paychecks in a salt mine because that is the only thing she is qualified to do.