The Service Economy (Or, F@#$ You Very Much), Part 4

In the previous three installments, I use the story of a bookseller in a ridiculous customer service situation as a frame to talk about the fate of those working in the service industry. The first installment can be found here. The second installment can be found here. The third installment can be found here here . Things already discussed: what is a real job; the consequences of “the customer is always right” policy; rumination on unions; the perennial question – why do I have to pretend to be happy to serve you; and questions about the viability and sustainability of an economy that treats so many workers like waste. And so, onwards and upwards…

The Money Tree/Winston Smith

End of the Hapless Bookseller’s Ridiculous Story

As you are probably aware by now (if you’ve stuck with the story thus far) the story of the bookseller and the Jokester and the drunk boss is my story. Yes, I confess I was the bookseller. Because I’m an artist and get paid very little (and sometimes not at all) for what I do rather well, and because I have moved around quite bit over the years (always penalized in the corporate-controlled economy), I have done my fair share of time in the service economy. I dip in, I flee; a couple of years later, I’m back. Remember, one third of jobs in this economy are in service.

 

Service: it's what's for dinner.

At this point in the proceedings there’s always some pompous-believer-in-the-shock-and-awe-of-capitalism that needs to point out to me that the job in that bookstore really wasn’t so bad. He desperately needs it to be a case of ‘one bad apple.’ "C’mon, man, quit your complaining, it’s not endemic."

           

I agree that my job at the bookstore was not that bad. The job certainly wasn’t the worst job I’ve ever had. Here's a job I had that was worse: I once cleaned toilets, waxed floors, and worked in the dining hall kitchen of a posh private university where the students went out of their way to treat all service workers with condescension and contempt, sometimes even making more of a mess for the workers (especially in the toilets) as a kind of insider class joke (remember, we were the bottom-feeders, what else did we deserve?) And I’m more than aware that too many people on this earth – millions upon millions – have much worse happen to them at work on a daily basis than I did at that private university (and that still wasn’t my worst job...not by a long shot). But the humiliation and low pay is endemic. Not just in the retail industry. It's across the board. Here in the US, the world over.

           

Here are a couple of examples of those doing real work in the US and still remain at the bottom of the great economic pyramid scheme.

Waitresses/Waiters:

Many waitresses that I know – or have known – over the years have had to spend quite a bit of energy fending off the unwanted sexual advances of their managers and bosses. It almost goes with the job – especially when you work in a bar. (Hey, Chickie Babe, you want the good shift, so you don’t have to pay more to the baby sitter? Well, you know what to do with that mouth of yours...”). On top of that, restaurants and bars are not required to pay minimum wage. Restaurant associations have been lobbying congress forever to keep the minimum for tip jobs at an abysmal $2.13 an hour (According to the US Department of Labor, if an employee’s tips combined with the employer’s direct wages do not equal the federal minimum hourly wage – $7.75 – the employer must make up the difference. Of course, employers rarely make up the difference – and no one’s out hounding them down to do it.). That’s right, restaurant labor costs have been passed on to you, the customer. So, if you don’t tip your waitress or waiter 20% then they have basically worked for something close to free.

Farm workers: 

Farm workers suffer on a daily basis from lack of adequate drinking water and toilet facilities; musculoskeletal injuries from lengthy stooping, lifting, and cutting; and daily exposure to pesticides. On top of that, most farm workers are largely excluded from even the very crap Federal laws that are meant to currently protect worker’s rights in this country. (You can read up about a fight involved between the UFW (United Farm Workers) and Gerawan Farming, one of the nations largest food growers, that addresses this issue here: Article from Capital and Main)

Cheap vegetables, fruits and milk come from this world. Here's an incident that happened recently - a report taken from the UFW website: "Randy Vasquez, a 27 year old dairy worker, drowned in a tragic accident at work when his front loader truck tipped into a cow manure pond. Randy had been working at Riverview Ranch, a dairy that provides milk to Darigold.

"(He had)...often lamented...about the harsh working conditions; the shifts were long, sometimes longer than 10 hours per day and he usually worked the night shift. He’d also suffered an accident at work when chemicals splashed into his eyes. Nubia (his wife) told us she watched Randy fervently look for work elsewhere, at warehouse stores and distribution centers but he had no luck; he continued to work at dairies to support Nubia and their two children ages 3 and 2 years old." (Go to the United Food Workers site and read up here. You can help simply by signing their petitions.)

Class Empathy

Futility of a Well Ordered Life/Winston Smith

 Another reason I’ve used the relatively benign example of the bookseller is this: many in the middle class, and too many professional-types I've met, are unwilling to see the horror of what goes on around them unless it happens to be someone they feel they can identify with – you know, someone with a degree, who may have originally come from the middle class. They only have sympathy for people who resemble themselves (let’s be kind and call it class empathy).

             
While I was organizing at Borders I ran into a guy at a party who told me that normally he wouldn’t approve of unions in retail, or unions at all, but he was behind what we were doing because the booksellers at Borders actually had a skill. When I told him that I was hoping the movement would spread throughout the service industry, he said: “I don’t see how what you’re doing would apply to any other part of retail. Those people are unskilled.” (The verdict was in! Unskilled! Those that are deemed unskilled don’t deserve to do anything but survive! They deserve our contempt! Who cares if they’re keeping thousands of corporate box stores afloat – fuck ‘em! Yay!)

            

I found out he sold mortgages. Now there’s a real skill.

           

It goes without saying that if everyone were a professional, a manager, an assistant manager (in retail, they are also over-worked), there would be no one left to clean the toilets. The upper class, the management class, NEED the servant class to exist. They are increasingly wealthy because the servant class is making so little. That’s just how the economy works. (So, for all you people who never gave a shit that millions of other workers in this country were sinking into poverty while your salaries doubled – don’t worry, the percentage of service jobs is growing and growing and growing. I’m sure we’ll all eventually meet in the servant’s break room at Costco.) 

Workers Fighting Each Other for Scraps

Laughing on the Outside/Winston Smith

Service workers also get crap from those that should understand their plight. Sometime last year, a friend posted a petition on Facebook about raising the national minimum wage for all to fifteen dollars an hour, and some guy immediately jumped in and wrote that he understood the need for raising wages but, for Christ’s sake, some people are only slinging burgers and don’t deserve that much (there was a bit of real job blustering). It turned out that he just didn’t want to see service worker wages raised to the level that he was at in his construction job.

Carnage/Winston Smith

My immediate thought was: Okay, fine, let’s all fight among ourselves for scraps from The Overlords. Let’s pretend that this is not doing the boss’s work for him. Let’s hold onto the idea that there’s an actual ladder of morality involved in how much money we make (much like the Calvinists, who believed that the more wealth you accumulated, the more God favored you...they also believed that there is only a small elite who were going to be allowed into heaven – and it’s certainly wasn’t going to be you, bucko, poor cashier that you are – it just so happens that it’s going to be them).

 Do we really need to get our sense of self-worth from the idea that we are above someone else on the great ladder of success, grinding our boot heel on the crown of those worthless heads below, pushing down, down, down?

Back to the Bookseller & The Jokester

Ah, by this time, you know how all this ends: the Jokester won. The boss badgered me so much about smiling – and doing things that had nothing to do with selling books – things that were a distraction from my actual job, a distraction from making him money – that I finally had to quit. 

 As I walked out the door for the last time, I was reminded of a moment in the cult film Idiocracy (two people are cryogenically frozen in a military experiment and wake 500 years later in a dystopian society where a corporate commercial mindset has run rampant, resulting "in a uniformly unthinking society devoid of intellectual curiosity, social responsibiltiy, and coherent notions of justice and human rights." (Wikipedia) No one knows how to do anything. The world is filled with garbage endlessly pumped out by the big box stores. Oh, but there is still a greeter at the front entrance to Costco, endlessly repeating “Welcome to Costco, I love you...Welcome to Costco, I love you...Welcome to Costco, I love you...”

You can watch the idiotic moment here.

 
The bookstore story happened several years ago. When I walked out the door, I said “Never again.” But, as I mentioned above, that’s not the way the economy works. Service jobs are, basically, what's for dinner. I’ve come and gone from retail a few times since...

Oh, but there’s more...

Next (and final) Installment:

Strikes,

New Fights,

& Moving Beyond the Service Economy

Collages by Winston Smith
(for those old enough, he did the famous Dead Kennedy's album covers.
And no, I don't know him.)

His website is

here. 

 

The Service Economy (Or, F@#$ You Very Much), Part 3

In the previous two segments, I relate the story of a hapless bookseller in a ridiculous customer service situation as a frame to talk about the fate of those working in the service industry (1/3 of the economy). The first installment can be found here. The second installment can be found here. Some things covered: the term “a real job”, the consequences of the policy “the customer is always right”, and ruminations on unions. And so, blah, blah, blah, let us continue:

Happy Happy Happy Happy

So, why do you need me to pretend that I’m happy to serve you?

As any servant knows, if the boss really thought that the Jokester guy was nothing but a joke, then he wouldn’t have even bothered to pass the incident on to the bookseller. Deep down, the Jokester had gotten to the boss, sounded the capitalist alarm. The bookseller could see it working through the boss, coming out in the thought: “Sales are going down because the booksellers are not being pleasant to the customers! My god, I’ll go out of business before Christmas!”  The Jokester had showed the boss that the booksellers were not ‘servicing’ the customers properly! Why couldn’t they all just do their frickin' jobs? Why did he have to go up front and tell them simple things like ‘be pleasant?’ Aren’t they adults? Can’t they figure it out themselves?

           

Within days, the boss started lurking behind shelves in proximity to the front cash register, spying on the cashiers, making sure everyone was doing their job properly. When he was drunk, he roamed around the front of the store and screeched a too-loud welcome at the customers – “Heeeelllllllooooo, how are you doing? Thanks for coming in today!” – then he would turn and glare back at the cashiers with a look that clearly said, “You see that? That’s how you do it, you dumb cattle.” (And yes, the customers would make a bee-line for another part of the store because it was scary as hell. They had no idea who he was or why he was screeching at them.) 

Happy Happy Happy

         

In the weeks that followed, the boss told everyone: “You need to smile more.” 

     

Wait, it’s not enough that the customer is always right? It’s not enough that the cashier has to eat whatever bullshit the boss hands them? Sorry, the cashier must also be happy and smiley for you (oh you wonderful little consumer you). In the service economy, the servant is required to constantly give you the illusion that they love their work and that they love serving you (oh you precious wonderful special little consumer you).

           

Happy Happy

I’m reminded of a line from Bob Dylan’s “Like a Rolling Stone”: “You never saw the frowns on the jugglers and the clowns when they all did tricks for you...”  That’s what’s going on. No one can be happy-smiley for eight hours straight, especially when they are being treated for the most part as if they are worthless.

Ironically, as mentioned in a previous section, the focus for the entire hierarchy is on customer service – the cashier’s smiley face. The entire edifice is balanced on the servant – and yet there is no compensation for it. There is only degradation and humiliation – and the constant reminder that they have no dignity, and deserve none.

      

O That Disconcertingly Honest Customer Service 

in the UK

When I lived in the UK, I noticed that most retail clerks, and service workers in general, were not required to have that faux Disney smile perpetually pasted on their lips. They went about their business with whatever face suited them best. Some smiled, some didn’t, but either way, for the most part they all did their work efficiently. No pretense about liking your job or liking where you work or liking the people that you serve. There was a refreshing honesty about this. 

           

David Mitchell (UK comedian, known for Peep Show and That Mitchell & Webb Look) once did a little rant about customer service on QI (a UK game show hosted by Stephen Fry), that cuts right to the core of the problem:

Mitchell:

The things that seem unfair to me are the number of people who are expected to pretend to care about jobs they don’t care about. They should be allowed to say: “Look, I’m fulfilling my contract – you can’t put in the contract, ‘Also, you have to seem like you give a shit.’” I think that’s expecting too much. That’s why I really like the fact that we live in a country with such poor customer service. I’ve got to respect that...

Fry: 

You know, you’re right – why have a cheesy grin on your face if you are working in an awful supermarket?

Mitchell: 

It’s either the sign of a liar or a moron.

(Although, I’d say that it’s not so much poor customer service in the UK as it is honest customer service.)

You can watch it here. Quite funny. 
(I couldn't get the You Tube link to post, for some reason)

 

Happy  Happy

What I’m trying to say here is that someone working in the service economy should be able to do their job and do it well without the demand that they look happy every second of the day. Someone that demands this of a cashier, demands this of any worker who is dealing with the public all day long, is someone who is unable to face actual reality. (Remember reality? That place where you have a real job? A job where you go to the bathroom whenever you damn well please?)

           

So, go ahead, sit behind a cash register and ring people up for eight straight hours and we’ll see how smiley you are at the end of that shift. Now do it for two weeks. Now do it for six months. Now do it for ten years. Do it for three decades. See how those smiles just keep on a-comin’?

           

And, let’s face it, forcing a smile on workers is meant as distraction to the reality of the economy, the culture itself. Very few in retail or related service work like their job; they are selling – for the most part – crap made in China or Indonesia or Mexico by slave labor; they are underpaid, overworked, etc. (You know the drill). Is the cashier’s fake smile the empty facade that helps many in this country get on with their business without too much guilt? What's the smile protecting? A system that works only when a large percentage of the working population live in poverty, go hungry, are depressed?

Happy Happy Happy

 This was said by a Walmart spokesman last November in response to a report about hunger among Walmart employees: “The truth of the matter is 1.3 million people choose to work for Walmart because they understand the company provides its associates with more opportunities for career growth and greater economic security for their families than other companies in America." (Article can be found here)

           

Oh that ole freedom of choice mantra. But we know better. Most work for Walmart because in many places it's the only game in town.

           

So, here’s the question that keeps coming back to me: Why pledge allegiance to an economy that requires so many underpaid servants? 

Next Installment:

“Welcome to Costco, I Love You”

The Service Economy (Or, F@#$ You Very Much), Part 2

In the previous segment, I began the story of a hapless bookseller as a frame to talk about the sad fate of those working in the service industry (1/3 of the economy), about how those behind the counters are perceived and treated. The first part can be found here. It includes the beginning of the bookseller’s story, along with ruminations on my former union organizing days, and the reigning corporate concept of service work as not being real work. 

And so, the story continues:  

The Customer is Always...

The bookseller behind the register doesn’t look up at the couple, just keeps ringing up the large stack of books. When he finally does look up to tell the couple their total, the Jokester’s eyes are wide – with hatred, rage? Just plain crazy? The bookseller doesn’t know. He tells them their total and Jokester throws his credit card at the bookseller.

           

This is not an unusual event. People do this all the time. Why? We’re back to the ubiquitous perception that those working in the service economy are just bottom-feeders who cannot – or simply will not – pull themselves up by their own bootstraps in this great land of ours, and so they deserve our contempt. But there is something else that has been added to the mix over the years, an insidious corporate concept that makes this obnoxious behavior okay: The customer is always right.* The one behind the counter is seen as someone who must do whatever the customer wants, no matter what.

           

What this does is make all "service" employees into servants. Not workers, but servants. If you look up the word servant online, these are the synonyms: “Domestic, cleaner, lackey, flunkey, minion, housemaid, valet, manservant, drudge, menial, and slave.”  (I am not putting down labor as an actual domestic servant here. I'm trying to point out that there are unconscious associations that go with the word servant, and that those associations are different for the words worker or employee.)

          

Here in the US, it’s clear that the many synonyms for servant are what flicker unconsciously through many a customer mind whenever they address anyone employed in the service economy. The bookseller knows this, but right at that moment he is only concerned with getting through the sale. What the hell, he has two minutes left on the clock. He swipes the credit card and slides the receipt across the counter for Jokester to sign. Jokester signs and leaves, obviously disgruntled. The bookseller doesn’t give it another thought and clocks out.

           

Ah, but when the bookseller returns to the store two days later, he’s pulled into the back office by the boss. Apparently, disgruntled-jokester-guy chewed over his “humiliation” at the hands of a mere bookseller for about an hour, then came back into the store, and complained to the boss that the clerk was rude and unprofessional. His words: “He looked right through me.” Jokester had not been SEEN and he had come into the store to be SEEN. Jokester wanted satisfaction. He wanted the bookseller fired. If the bookseller was not fired, then he threatened to never return to the store.

           

 Another typical day in the service industry.

            

 To his credit, the boss did not fire the bookseller. But that was probably only because the place was seriously short-staffed. Instead, the boss played the chummy old game of “It’s us against them, I know, comrade...and I’m on your side, really...but....” He calmly explained that he told Jokester that the bookseller was a bit distant, yes, but not rude...and, oddly enough, many customers actually liked him…even praised him for his helpfulness and book knowledge. The boss then gave the bookseller a sympathetic smile. But there was something else in the eyes that didn’t quite fit with the smile: anger. The boss was angry that he had had to deal with a complaining customer. Someone was at fault for this inconvenience, someone’s to blame, and it certainly wasn’t the boss. In the service economy, there’s always someone to blame, and blame bumps down the chain of command, eventually landing on those at the bottom.

                       

Now, as with many corporate managers or small business owners, this boss was rarely out on the floor and pretty much had no idea what went on out there. The extent of his participation was to make the rounds every once in a while to make sure that no two booksellers were standing together and talking. Sometimes the booksellers were talking about the weather, about books, about politics, about customers...but mostly they were talking about work – you know, passing actual information back and forth about what was going on in the store so that things went more smoothly. The boss was paranoid (from excess drink) and so interpreted every gathering of booksellers as either a conspiracy in the making (what kind, no one could say), or that they were simply slacking off. He was a firm believer in the motto: “If you’ve got time to lean, you’ve got time to clean.” Of course, because the boss was never out on the floor, he had no idea what the booksellers or the baristas actually did all day.

                       

Oddly enough, most of the time they were working. Remember, they were short-staffed, so they were busy all the time. The store functioned smoothly because of the dedication of the staff.  They didn’t do this because they felt any allegiance to the boss (he’d lost that long ago with his periodic firings and drunkenness), but because they loved books and wanted to get the right book into the right hands, and – this is key – because they didn’t want to screw over their fellow workers. They had what Linda Tirado, in her recently published book, Hand to Mouth (an insightful, wonderfully angry, and much-needed book about being poor in America from the actual point of view of a working poor person), called siege mentality. 

           “I will kill myself for my co-workers,” Tirado says. “A lot of us do that. When we work through fevers and injuries and bone weariness, it’s for the money but also because if we don’t, we know that we’ll be leaving our co-workers holding the bag. However bad the shift is, with a man down, it’ll be that much worse on whoever’s left. There’s a siege mentality in the service industry in particular; you go through hell together. If you tap out and go home, you’re leaving your co-workers to deal with more customers with even fewer hands. And that means that they’re more likely to get fired themselves – because if customers start complaining about the service, the boss doesn’t really care that you’re covering for someone who’s out sick.” (pg 22 of Hand to Mouth: Living in Bootstrap America)

           

The boss continued: “I know everyone has their off days, their off hours, but it’s important to look everyone in the eye and smile.” The boss then went into a small lecture about greeting customers when they first walk in the store and how that was the key to making people feel welcome. It was a lecture for someone who was sixteen. At the time, the bookseller was in his mid-forties. 

 The policy of the customer is always right always ends in humiliation for the worker. It means that all the psychically wounded, the nut-jobs, and the viciously cruel, can walk into a retail outlet and put someone down without any repercussions. So, in the end, abusive people get better service than the nice ones.

Next Installment:

“So Why Do You Need Me to Pretend That I’m Happy to Serve You?”

   

      *Apparently, the phrase "The customer is always right" was originally coined in 1909 by Harry Gordon Selfridge, the founder of Selfridge's department store in London. His life has been dramatized on PBS’ Masterpiece Theatre's Mr. Selfridge. The story of "how a young American upstart entrepreneur taught England how to shop." (PBS promo language, not mine) You betcha.