I recently bumped into a fuming friend. After I calmed
her down with an offer of expensive coffee, she narrated how she had just had a
session with the worst receptionist in the world. According to my friend, the
young, beautiful and seemingly well-groomed girl sitting behind the reception
desk barely looked at her, she mumbled her answers, was chewing gum like a homo
erectus, and when she made eye contact, my friend felt as if she was being
sized up for a bare-knuckle fight.
I empathized with her, because, after all, encountering
rude receptionists and watchmen is a rite of passage. Job
places are flooded with receptionists who give the unfortunate impression that
somebody had to hold a gun to them to have them report to work. They make you
feel like they are doing you a favor just by attending to you. The pesky
patience testers, is what I call them.