To mark 100 years since (some) women were granted the right to vote, I thought I’d celebrate some of the women in my life who’ve made it substantially better. Kicking off: Nadine Dereza.
Britain, we are told, is not the place to go for good customer service. And yet last night, I had an impromptu mince pie with charming staff at Shoreditch’s BoxPark, and got 25p off my breakfast this morning at Pret.
Perhaps, I reflected, customer service is not something that you are given, but is more an inadequate label we attach to interactions between ourselves as customers and the people behind the counter. How can we customers get better customer service? Here are two tips – and one black-hearted, dirty trick.
We Englishman seldom express a gregarious bent with physical expression, but my modern friend, Caspar Berry clapped me on the shoulder this week, when I mused out loud on all the things I’d done for the first time this year:
Presented a radio show without guests;
Written for the News Quiz;
Compèred a comedy evening;
Gone scuba diving;
Turned down a ‘safe’ (but boring and backward-looking) job;
Eaten frogs’ legs;
Listened exclusively to a single Tom Jones CD for an entire fortnight.
Caspar is a motivating sort of person, which is just as well because his day job is as a motivational speaker. (I presume by night he fights crime.) but even he was impressed by some of these milestones, not least the Tom Jones one.
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