Thursday 19 November 2015

The unhealthy impact of poor customer service

Rarely I physically go shopping, it's a great effort and I am forever having to problem solve and work round hurdles. 

However, I needed to do some business banking and buy mounting board for a charitable project I am involved in. I psyched myself up, borrowed OH car, ( easier for hoisting scooter) and off I went.

First hurdle finding a disabled space with chevrons by the side, to enable me to open my door wide - easier said than done in the large car park.

First stop Metro bank where as always I feel a dog is more esteemed than me. The front doors are not automated. So unless there is a friendly customer entering at the same time I struggle to open the heavy door with one arm while manoeuvring my scooter with the other. Once inside I see dog bowls, as a welcome along with doggy treats on the counter. Fortunately they are not in a dogs reach, mind you neither are they in mine. The scooter is very high, at most people's chest height so up I crane my neck up to pay the chequers in when the assistant looks down at her computer I just see the top of her head. The young woman speaks to me her voice floats over my head I am unable to hear. So I have to ask her to look down at me and repeat what she says, I can see she is reaching on tip toes. I wonder what a child feels as well as other disabled peers when faced with granite slabs. I go out with staff rushing to open the door for me. It is disappointing that in this moder world simple things, like automated front doors, matching the automated internal ones, a door bell to ring for assistance. And a banking desk that has one end lowered to be able to speak face to face with children and those in wheelchairs would be a given, rather than dog  bowls and treats. 

Next stop T K Max, a friend has been raving about this particular store so I thought why not, I found a fab dress - shall I take it home and try it crossed my mind, but no I decided to make the effort and headed for the changing rooms and was so into a generous sized changing room with seat and grab rails, excellent, undressed and with dress on I looked into the mirror.... Well the shop fitter deemed that disabled people would be either "little people" or that they would be completely paralysed as the mirror ended at my chest. No walking stick with me, I wasn't about to try and find another mirror. Fed this back to the assistant in charge of the fitting room, who said " when I paid for my items there would be a feedback form on the back of my receipt" - my purse was firmly staying shut, so that was that. 

Still in the mood for a Christmas dress, I popped next door to Next, I felt I was in a forest of clothes and couldn't see the wood from the trees so to speak. A quick exit, as I then did from Laura Ashley, same problem and nobody around to assist. 

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