The Customer

04/2007

Sometimes a girl just wants to be a customer. The other day, I was at a big retail center when the sales associate called me her “guest.” I wanted to say, “I’m not your guest. I’m your customer. Just say it. Sure…treat me with all the courtesy normally reserved for a guest. Knock yourself out. Have at it. Treat me like a guest. But please call me your customer.” I wanted to say all that but I didn’t – not even close. I didn’t say anything. I just smiled like a good guest.

Sometimes, at restaurants, waiters say, “Hi, my name’s Jake and I’ll be your server tonight.”

“My name is Jake,” is a good opening line even if your name is George. Come to think of it, especially if your name is George. But can’t we just leave it at that? I can figure it out from here.

Call me a smart-alleck, but the first words that pop into my head are, “Hi, my name is…and I’ll be your customer tonight.” I mean, if he has to tell me what he’s doing standing at my table, shouldn’t I tell him what I’m doing sitting at the table? Isn’t it the polite thing to do? Aren’t I just following his lead? Some would say I’m being lady-like. But I don’t say that. I never do. I just think it.

Sometimes I go this far: I think…you’re the guy I’ll ask for food. You’re the guy who will communicate my order to the kitchen. And you’re the guy who will bring me my food when it’s ready. Buddy, I should tell you, I’ve been down this road a time or two.

What is it? Too much? Too sassy? I hear you. Okay, I’ve had a bad day and I’m taking it out on innocent retail centers and restaurant employees. But give a girl a break. Sometimes a girl just wants to be a customer.

And sometimes she wants her Man to fly to town and stay a while. And sometimes she wants her Man to hold her hand. And sometimes she wants her Man to take her to Tiffany’s. And sometimes she wants her Man to do Unspeakable Things.

Me? I just want to be a customer.