Why do bad customers have to exist? And why must we deal with them? Couldn't we just have trap-doors built into the floor in front of our desks, so when they appear we can drop them into a rancor pit? Personally, I can't think of a better punishment for them than spending some quality time with a manifestation of their own ill will.

I think the worst thing about bad customers---at least for me---isn't the actual encounter with them, but the inevitable aftermath. The scene replays in endless loops in my head, and I spend far too much energy and time analyzing what they said and what I said and what I did wrong. And then I feel ashamed.

If my actions were blameless, maybe I wouldn't feel ashamed. I don't know. But I've far too much pride, and my temper runs a little too hot, to let the insults and the condescension and the fury simply slide over me. Maybe that's a bad thing; that's certainly the premise upon which my shame builds itself. But I think I'll require a couple more decades before I'm mellow enough not to feel the urge to fight back when someone attacks me. In the meantime, maybe I can assuage my conscience by admitting, yes, my actions weren't ideal...but they were a whole helluva lot better than those exhibited by that bad customer.

But I still rather wish someone had been sitting next to me; I still want someone else to say, "No, I saw the whole thing. Your response was perfectly acceptable."

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