So. Tuesday was a slightly more eventful day for me than usual. On the 28th of July, 2009, I handed in my notice at my job. I'd had this job for two years now, working part time amongst the lovely general public in my little corner of England. My official job title was "Customer Service Assistant", or CSA. Basically I "service" customers in a small local covenience shop. I suppose I should only reveal the name of the company when I've actually finished my time there; here's a hint, it's not Tesco. Some more possibly important information about me; I'm a girl, aged 18, and I've just finished formal school. I'm waiting to see if I've got into university, to study English. Here's hoping I have!
Anyway. As this is the post where I introduce myself, I thought I'd touch on the subject of name badges. Part of my uniform at the shop means I have to wear one, which I didn't really mind to begin with. Since my shop is located in the neighbourhood where I grow up, I actually know a lot of the customers, if not by name then by sight, or by knowing their kids/parents/siblings. This means that sometimes I'm called by my name, by someone who knows me. But then I realised that some of the people I serve, mainly arrogant, suited men with sunglasses and bluetooth headsets, were looking at my namebadge and calling me by my first name. SCANDAL! I hear you cry. I know, it doesn't seem like a travesty that someone actually looked at my name badge...it's just the chummy way they do it. A smug nod, or a wink that suggests we're in cahoots together always seems to accompany the use of my first name. Like they think that using it will get them their twenty B&H silver any faster. It won't, especially not if you're on the phone to someone while I'm serving you! More stuff about customers on phones later.
The most embarassing name-related anecdote I have is a relatively recent one. A man, who I don't believe was native to England, explained to me the meaning of my name. Now I'm not socially defunct; I react quite well to all sorts of strange conversation. But I had no idea what to say to this man, who obviously meant well. Thankfully, his wife rolled her eyes and managed to silence the over-enthusiastic Greek man...although not before I managed to blurt out that my name is actually a quite popular one for dogs. They both froze; the women stiffly informed me that they had called their daughter the very same name. As a tribute to her grandmother. Oh dear.
So, this is Till Girl's world guide to calling shop workers by their names:
1. If you actually know them, using their first name is acceptable.
2. If they intoduce themselves to you, then it's acceptable to call them by their name.
3. If you visit the shop regularly, and often get served by this person, then after a while they'll probably not mind you calling them by their first name. I personally find this quite flattering.
4. Don't tell me stories about my name; I'll accidently insult you. Sorry!!
Overall, my rule of thumb would be this; would you like them to know your name? If the answer is no, don't address them by the name on their namebadge. It's impossible for them to know your name, which creates an awkward situation where you know their name, but they can only address you as sir/madam. It kind of makes the transaction like one between a 19th century servant and their employer. And despite what you may think, we're not servants!
