Awkward Customers?

          Who knows what librarians do all day? It’s apparent that they keep the bookshelves in order, but there’s probably more to the job than that – behind the scenes, so to speak. Our city library appears to be abundantly staffed by relaxed-looking individuals, untroubled by any discernible activity, yet when I’ve had occasion to rouse one of them from their seeming torpor, they have sprung willingly into action.

          Do they just wait, in a state of repressed anticipation, for opportunities to show that there’s more to the job than meets the eye? Or are they trained to keep a low profile so as not to intimidate would-be readers who are daunted by the notion that librarians have read all the books in the building and look down on those who haven’t? If so, that would be quite a sophisticated training module.

          Mostly, I have no need to trouble the staff, dropping in as I frequently do to relieve the tedium of an otherwise dull schedule of errands and shopping. I usually pick something from the local history section, so that my perambulations might be enhanced by spotting remnants of the past and clues to the origins of unusual place names.

          But, the last time I popped in, I noticed a set of books with Hangman’s Record on their spines. I couldn’t resist the grisly urge to take a look, though time was pressing and I got no further than an entry describing a complaint from one operative that he had not been paid for his last job. That was in the volume covering 1868-1899. I’m looking forward to a deeper delve to see if the hangman’s lot had improved by the last volume (1930-1964) and to what extent, if at all, they had been trained in the art of public-facing etiquette.

          Those of us who are service users rather than providers may underestimate the difficulties faced by individuals on the frontline. Confronted by all manner of client – from the polite to the rude, the apologetic to the apoplectic, or the easily satisfied to the unreasonably exacting – the person behind the counter needs all the training they can get. Of course, it helps not to have the personality traits of a Basil Fawlty but, even so, if the job involves conducting hundreds of repetitive transactions every day, even the most patient character must surely crack occasionally.

          When, earlier this week, I checked into a budget hotel, I got grudging service from a young man who was clearly not enjoying the chore of ‘welcoming’ his umpteenth guest of the day, though I didn’t take it personally, since I had said nothing other than, “Hello, I have a booking”. I reckon he was just fed up. However, he became even grumpier when I pointed out that the pen he had handed me with which to fill in the registration form had run out of ink. It was as if his day could get no worse.

          I did a stint of ‘customer-facing’ myself last week. I was helping out at a community event, dispensing hot drinks to around sixty people. In the kitchen, I found a couple of old-style giant teapots – just the job, I thought. But the modern palette is no longer communal. It has developed a taste for all sorts of concoction, with or without caffeine, plus a choice of either milk or plant-based substitutes.

           Determined not to fall into the trap of curmudgeonly disapproval of other people’s picky penchants, I put the teapots aside, filled up a giant electric urn and set up a self-service flow system, which worked tolerably well, so long as I chivvied everyone along. I even made a point of refraining from scowling whenever someone put a spoon in the wrong bowl or dithered over their choices.

          Yes, I know a thing or two about the customer interface. But do they know how much work goes on behind the scenes?