...unpredictable, and sometimes cold and blustery.
I live only a one minute walk from the Oxford Central (Public) Library. Literally. One afternoon I found myself in need of a walk. Grabbing my wallet and keys I decided to pop out to the library and see if a book I had reserved had arrived. I had only been to the library once before and had never retrieved a reserve book, so naturally I approached the first person with a library employee tag and said, "pardon me, but could you show me where the reserve books are kept?"
"The reserve books?" she replied indignantly. I have been told this is a typical English response. Ask an English person a question they think is daft and they won't answer you outright, but will merely repeat the question back to you with a mixture of shock and horror on their faces. The implied response is something like, How dare you have the combined stupidity and audacity to approach me with such an obvious query. Pardon me whilst I stand here and ponder how you managed to get past immigration...
Meanwhile I replied, "Yes, the reserve books..."
Gathering her composure the librarian asked, "Did you receive a confirmation e-mail?"
"No," I replied, wondering why she had asked.
"That's why we send the confirmation e-mails, you know," said the librarian, "to confirm that the book is in. Otherwise there is no guarantee you'll find it."
Really?? Is that why you won't simply answer my question? "I realize that," I said calmly, "but I thought I might check for it anyway while I'm here..." Just keep smiling, just keep smiling...
"Alright," the librarian snapped resignedly. "They're over there, on that shelf." She flicked a finger towards a tall bookcase about twenty feet to my right and stalked away.
When I found my book on the shelf (indeed, my confirmation e-mail was sent at closing time that day), I had to resist the burning temptation to find that same librarian, flash my book, and thank her profusely with a syrupy smile. This was only the first of a couple similar experiences (Tesco, a restaurant...).
In America the customer is always right.
In England the customer better know what she's doing or know damn well enough to bugger off.
I want to make it clear that this post does not apply to the majority of British people I have met, which have been kind and accommodating to this misplaced American:)
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