Dialogue: Rude behaviour masked behind a veil called service

Shops, bars, restaurants, petrol stations. We all frequent them - but how often do we bring their little irksome habits to their attention?

Sure, we complain if there's a foreign object in the food or if a product is faulty, but we generally restrain ourselves from pointing out their many annoying tendencies.

But those days are over. It's time that bad behaviour, performed in the name of service, was exposed.

In shops, customers are so polite when completing a purchase.

They mutter a neverending stream of thanks to the sales attendant. Thank you for wrapping up the item; thank you for telling me the price; thank you for taking my credit card off me; thank you for allowing me to sign my credit-card slip; thank you for handing me my package; thank you for telling me to have a nice day.

It's no wonder we so readily use that abbreviation "ta." It helps to punctate and abridge such situations. Thanks, ta, thanks very much, ta, thank you, ta.

In the midst of all this gratitude and politeness, the customer will carefully hand her credit card to the attendant. But what does the attendant do once she has finished with it? Give the same courtesy and consideration to the customer? I think not.

Nine times out of 10 the card is slapped rudely down on the counter, leaving the customer to prise its slippery plastic form from the surface, when it could have simply been handed back.

This rude habit is rife in Auckland, even in the finer stores that should know better.

If a customer pays cash, the attendant will often place a till-receipt in the customer's outstretched hand before piling the change on top of it.

I am holding my hand out for the change, not for their paperwork generated by the transaction.

Why can't the receipt be placed in with the goods or at least passed over separately, instead of forcing the customer to pick out the rubbish before slipping the money into her wallet?

Shoppers are often laden with handbags, sunglasses, car-keys, umbrellas and children.

They should not be saddled with an extra unnecessary task just to make the attendant's job easier.

Solicitous waiters at restaurants never ask who wants a refill of their wine glass. They just go ahead and refresh every glass they see, clearly thinking they are doing diners a favour.

In fact, there are numerous scenarios where this is inconvenient.

For example, two friends - planning to split the bill - properly deserve roughly half the bottle each, but waiters ensure that the speediest drinker gets more than her share.

Or sometimes the driver at the table will decide that his non-driving companion can have the rest of the wine in the bottle although her glass is still full. But waiters come along and fill up the driver's empty glass anyway.

Many people - whether they are dieters, drivers or just trying to keep tabs on their alcohol consumption - want to know how much they have drunk but this fact is disguised by willy-nilly pouring. Plus, wine stays much colder in the bottle, so frequent top-ups mean the wine warms faster.

What about restaurants that serve minuscule amounts of food on enormous plates, and then expect the diners to help to rearrange the table to find a landing place? It should be up to the waiters to ensure there is room on the table before they appear laden down with food.

Tiny tables only exaggerate this problem, as does the nasty habit of squeezing six people around a table designed for four.

Have you ever noticed that service-station attendants often only materialise after the customer has loaded the nozzle of the petrol pump herself?

It seems to be a type of one-upmanship, some psychological warfare on the attendants behalf. "Ha, you've just ruined your manicure, so now I can stand idly by without getting my hands dirty."

If they cannot make it to the customer's vehicle in time to be of service, that's fair enough - but they should not add insult to injury by arriving once the hard work has been done. It's even worse if they lean on the car while waiting to dexterously screw the cap back on.

Service stations need to decide whether they are full-service or self-service. It doesn't matter what they choose but they should not keep customers guessing. The present no-man's land, half-way territory is a shambles.

Perhaps we should drop our native reserve and tolerance, and mention these irritating foibles and power games to the perpetrators.

It might not do any good, but at least they would realise that we are on to them.

* Shelley Bridgeman is an Auckland writer. Kate Belgrave is ill.