The 5 Worst Customer Service Spots in the Hood

Damn.

Every black person has a horror story about customer service.  Me and some of my smarty art friends (shout out to the TFT) were debating the origins of truly bad customer service.  Fam, opened up with a story about how him and his girl were at a restaurant and sat down for at least what seemed like a decade before somebody came through and asked if they would like some water.  No menus…no thing.  He was, naturally, wondering if it was because he was black?

We kind of concluded that even though infrastructural racism exists on every level of society, that there are certain instances where people (and by people I mean the ubiquitous “whyte man” so commonly spoken of by blacks) just give bad service and the color of one’s skin doesn’t make it any worse or better.

That being said, what about instances when the service is soooooooo bad and it’s coming from one of your own?  One of the contributors to an e-thread I host said that black people expect bad service from other black people and black establishments.  It’s almost like we lower the bar whenever we deal with one another because we’ve been burned by one another so much.  (But we often give people of other races the “red carpet” treatment…but that’s another blog for another day).

Giving each other shady service leads to a) us not supporting each other, and b) us complaining because we don’t support each other.

Here are the most flagrant violators:

Dis-Honorable Mention: The “Ghetto” Hospital (ya’ll know which one I’m tombout).  Every area with a significant black population has a ghetto hospital.  It’s usually state run, poorly funded, and has an even funnier smell than regular hospitals.  The wait in the emergency room is so super off the chain…which wouldn’t be a problem if you weren’t actively overhearing the nurses talking about throwing a tattoo party at their crib this weekend and bringing in an exceptionally well endowed male stripper.  Then these niggas act like they’re doing you a damn favor to place you in a little room, strip you down to a gown, and let you wait ANOTHER hour and a half…just for the doctor to come blowin his hot breaf (yes, breaf) in your face and prescribing generic acetaminophen (aka Tylenol). GTFOH.

5.- Church.  You know what…this really hurts my heart, but I gotta tell the truth anyhow.  Granted, I understand that church members aren’t exactly “customers” but there is definitely a user experience that leaves a lot to be desired and often ends up pissing a whole lot of folk off.  Everything from mean-mugging ex-gang member lookin ass deacons, to nose in the air “my husband works at the post office and we ballin'” face ass church ladies can be found in the hood church.  The leadership can leave a bad taste in a person’s mouth to say the least.  Unreturned phone calls, sex scandals, money scandals, zero administrative transparency, missed appointments, and a complete lack of empathy during crisis  (coupled with often outdated ministry and sus theology) is like being kicked while you’re down.  Shout out to those who labor for the Lord and serve…but as for the rest…kick rocks.

4.- Sprint & Comcast (a tie). Real talk…for the life of me, I don’t even know why niggas still fcuk with Sprint.  And I guess I can understand if a person lives in an area where there aren’t any other cable options why Comcast is still around (Lawd help us if we miss the BET Awards or The NBA Playoffs).  But damn!  I mean neither one of these massive companies give any more than about 1/8 of a fcuk about customer service.  Calling into Sprint is like making a toll free call to hell.  You get passed around more times than a blunt at a Gucci Mane concert, then have to threaten them hoes with complete cancellation and physical violence before they realize that you signed up for the damn unlimited text package.  Comcast ain’t no better.  What kills me about these niggas is…they act like they ain’t got cable, or have never had cable and wouldn’t be a weeeee bit mad if somebody cut that shyt off right before you found out the paternity results if o’girl who is bringing the 34th man to be tested (who’s also 15,000% sure he’s the father).  That shyt ain’t cool, and neither is the way Comcast slick act like I’m speaking Swahili or that I’m intentionally trying to sabotage my own cable when they attempt to “troubleshoot” over the phone.  Ta’ hell with both of em.

3.- Historically Black Colleges & Universities. *long drawn out sigh as I stare up at the heavens* Something’s got to give.  This one hurts too.  As a proud alum of a fine Historically Black University…it pains me to see how some of the most impressionable young adults in our society get treated at black colleges.  And the niggas in the various admin offices KNOW better.  If you’ve never been completely “purged” out of  a university system (purged = no classes, no financial aid, no nothing) for virtually NO REASON, you don’t feel me.  And since most black colleges are located in the deep south, having an exceptionally thick and country employee yell (even though I’m 3 feet away) “what’s yo soh-shuh?” [Note: “soh-shuh” = dirty south slang for “social” as in social security number] is nothing new.  Neither is having cafeteria workers look at you like you stole something, and work study secretaries think that by letting you see someone is a befront to their weak ass authority.  B!tch I need my financial aid…don’t make me reach on yo ol punk ass.  *Sofia from the Color Purple voice* “…you told Harpo to beeeat me!?!”  That’s how many students/alums feel/felt about service at their beloved Black College…they love it, lawd knows they do…but them niggas make you wanna kill ’em dead.

2.- The Barbershop.  The barbershop employs arguably the most stereotypical niggas in captivity.  I mean, just about ALL of the hood shyt we poke fun at on this blog can be found in, or around, a hood barbershop in any 48 hour period.  Crazy thing is, niggas KNOW you not gonna go without…so they feel like they can get a pass on horrible service.  I have literally had a nigga stop cutting my hair, in mid fade, to go get some head in the bathroom from a dip.  Bricks…I mean BRICKS of weed getting sold right in front of everybody.  Niggas keep they pistols right next to they T-edjers.  Then got the audacity to have a “no profanity” sign up while a we go on a 45 minute tirade about who got the phattest ass…Delicious or Buffie the Body?  And don’t forget about the flagrant sexual harassment of the poor babysmamas that just want to get lil Man-Man’s hair cut.  Niggas out here making ridiculous sexual advances while he edge her shorty up…tombout how he can come “cut shorty hair at her place”.  And the sad thing is…everybody co-signs on it and laughs.  Other flagrant violations: smelling like a mixture of kush and  fried chicken AT WORK, hour long personal phone calls that turn a 20 minute taper-fade into a marathon, letting his boys cut you in line, not making an appointment due to court or being in the county lock-up, or better yet…asking you to run to the store for him and taking the money out of what you would pay for your cut.  *smh* niggas.

1.- Harold’s Chicken (or any locally owned hood restaurant, usually a chicken/soul-food/ ribs joint). Harold’s Chicken is a legendary Chicago area establishment known just as much for botched orders and hard-on-the-outside-raw-on-the-inside steroid chicken breasts as it is for it’s addictive sweet 87th street sauce, and it is symbolic of every hood restaurant.  Really?  How many times are you going to fcuk up the same order?  Then you gonna laugh it off like giving me 5 wings is okay and I ordered the 6 wing combo?  Top to bottom hood restaurants can be flat our wrong.  No paper towels or toilet tissue in the bathroom.  Them niggas never take debit or credit, but quick to point you to that ATM that charges an $87 surcharge. Off-brand pops (soda), shyt you ain’t never even heard of, flavors like “red” and “orange”  (but for some reason “peach” is always good as hell *shrug*).  Completely unorganized.  Niggas are literally yelling at each other.  You get warmly greeted with “whatchu want”  and zero eye contact.  No one has on a hairnet and it takes the cashier 15 minutes to ring up your order because the rhinestones on her nails just got glued on.  And don’t let them be a “chain” or “franchise”…how and the hell you have a chain of restaurants and EVERYBODY knows that one restaurant is waaaaaaaaaaaay better than the rest??  And what exactly is the point of calling ahead again?

Funny thing about all this is…I love it.  My expectations, unfortunately, aren’t high so all I can do is sit back and enjoy the 5 wings I get with my 6 wing combo.

~El Jugo

PS: If you liked this blog…you’ll love this one.