I’ve been wanting to go to that optometrist, I don’t know why. Maybe it was the ample free parking spaces, or the bakery shop with yummy pastries 20 feet from it. I don’t know, it just feels like the right place. So I finally went there today.
I think you know where I’m going to. The fact that I’m writing this is a hint that things weren’t as rosy as it was supposed to be. First of all, the cheap frames were ugly, unlike what they have in their flyer. Hmm. Why did I only think of this now? I should have asked, “Where is the cheap one you have printed in your flyer?” Ok never mind, too late anyway. I went for the more expensive one, going over my budget by 79 bucks. Ouch. Make it a hundred coz deep down inside, my budget is actually lower.
The fact that it’s expensive doesn’t really matter anymore because it’s already a done deal and my budget is down the drain. Let’s talk about attitude. Service. My favourite topic.
The lady wasn’t too keen on chatting with me which makes me feel highly unwelcomed. Ok maybe not highly. Just unwelcomed. -Minus 10 marks- You know, sometimes you dress sloppily (Sloppy by their standards; their “I’m-a-high-class-salesperson” standards) and they look down on you. You go in a shop and they look at you like you’re living in a 50sqft house made of coconut leaves. Well excuse me, perhaps you might wanna call yourself a high-class-wannabe-salesperson-but-unfortunately-JUST-a-sad-lowlife-on- earth salesperson. In short, you’re just a salesperson. No offense to those doing sales. I’m only talking about the arrogant ones. Hey everyone is equal. Except for the arrogant ones.
Anyway back to Ms. Optometrist. She didn’t really answer my questions as well. -Minus 20 marks- Hey, it’s my eyes we’re talking about here, missy. She’s probably too shy or too arrogant. It better not be the latter. My blood boils easily lately. It boils, literally. And I’m craving to give a scold or two, literally craving for it. I was looking for an opening to mock the Citibank staffs today but unfortunately Ms. Fucking Retard wasn’t there. I remember her alright, but that’s another story altogether.
Then when the time came to pay the downpayment, her assistant asked for *calculates* a 53.8% payment. My eyes were about to pop out. People will usually ask how much you wish to pay first. She was pretty blatant, asking for that much. In the end we only paid her 35.8%. Just in case you’re starting to think I’m trying to conceal the price from you, which I’m not, I’m just ‘calculative’ right now, 35.8% is a hundred bucks. You do the math.
Right now I have 5 working days before I go collect my glasses and I’m giving them a chance to impress me. Oo I can’t wait. My mouth is itchy. I need to show some bitchiness. Don’t mess with the bitch.