The fact that you insist that you have “a email,” (it’s actually “an email,” just because you have an English accent doesn’t mean you have mastery over your own tongue) with a tracking number proving we’ve received your book doesn’t change the fact that both my inventory system and my phone call down to my receiving manager say that we don’t. So when I say I’m fairly sure we don’t have it, but I will still go down to the basement and check, know that calling me a “bloody obstructionist cow” and literally stomping off in a huff will not incline me to go down and check once you’ve left the store.
Further, returning not a half hour later with said “a email” from UPS (aka, not the commercial enterprise for which I work) with a tracking number saying the item had shipped does not prove your point, because when I bring up said tracking number on the Internet, it shows that it’s (drumroll, please) a notification of SHIPPING. FROM UPS– from our distribution center several states away to UPS’ distribution center. Several states away.
Clearly, he needs the book less than he needs a good mood stabilizer, but that sure as hell isn’t my job, though I could recommend a few books that might lead toward self-diagnosis.
I did, however, point out that while I might be a bloody obstructionist cow, it still didn’t change the fact that as it said on the order confirmation receipt we would call him when his book arrived. I’m thinking he’s probably not going to come in, although who knows. I do know the manager on duty’s going to ban him once this order’s complete, even though I never felt worried. Desperately unhappy, miserable people who have futile foot-stomping temper tantrums don’t bother me– I have been one, many a time, though never to the point of name calling. And there are practicing attorneys in Boston whom I regularly came up against who were far, far worse. This guy was a annoyance only.
An annoyance. Sorry. Some things are bloody contagious.