If You Can't Stand the Greet...

Hi, readers. How are you doing today? Can I help you with anything? A funny post maybe?

Woah, sorry. I bet that was annoying. But I figured when in Rome, do as the Romans do.

By Rome, of course, I mean “any business establishment in America.” And by Romans I mean “the annoying customer-service types who pepper you incessantly with inane pleasantries regarding your personal well-being and potential need for help in the store.”

When did this start? And how did it get so quickly out of control?

In Blockbuster the other day, I saw a woman enter only to be greeted by a store employee, who asked if she needed any help finding what she was looking for.

Now, I know better, so I respond to these greetings with short, monosyllabic grunts whenever possible.

But, sadly, this woman foolishly replied, “I’m not sure what I’m looking for.”

Oh, you poor simple woman! Never tell them that!

I wanted to scream out, “Noooooo! Run for your life!” but it was too late. The woman was already getting a full-guided tour of the place, complete with brief reviews and suggestions on what seemed like every New Release.

Oh well, you can’t save them all.

I mean, I had to look out for numero uno, you know? It’s a pleasantries jungle out there, and if you’re not careful, you’ll get eaten alive.

Take for instance the dangerous creature known as the way-too-smiley, handshake-happy manager at my local Bank of America branch. This guy is friggin’ relentless.

Always smiling, always shaking my hand and asking me how I’m doing. As if I couldn’t survive my two minute wait for a teller to greet me. I keep meaning to see if my bank has a suggestion box (probably next to the free cookies and coffee), so I can give them a tip: “Leave me the fuck alone. I came here to deposit a check not have a fuckin rap session.”

Of course, this is why, whenever possible, I use the ATM, which stands for “Crazy People Scare Me, So I’m Not Going Inside.”

I’m waiting for the day – and I’m sure it’s coming soon – when my bank simply positions the Budweiser “whaaazzzzup” guys on one side and Matt LeBlanc, repeating “How YOU doin?” on the other to see who can make my head explode first.

All I’m asking for is a little less customer service. Please, spare me.

Hopefully, none of those greeting-happy freaks read this, or they’ll be storming the comments section like the folks from Gu-- ... well, I’m not even gonna say it. Cue angry responses in 3…2…1….