NDUMISO NGCOBO | Service with a sneer seems to be the norm these days

You can fool some of the people all of the time — but if some of those people are you, you’re probably in the dwang. No, I didn’t botch the original Abraham Lincoln quip like George W Bush did when he was tripped up by that “fool me once” adage. This fluff was deliberate.

I’ve had this “fooling some of the people” saying stuck in my head for about a week now. The earworm was prompted by an interaction I overheard between a fellow traveller and an airline staffer at a boarding gate at King Shaka International two weeks ago. The silver-haired gentleman in question was trying to make his point as discreetly and tactfully as he could in what I assume was a dispute over the dimensions of his carry-on luggage. However, this columnist, being the skilled eavesdropper he is, picked up every syllable.

The heavily made-up aviation professional wasn’t interested in making conversation. She was simply yelling out airline policy at 200 decibels, accompanied by the intermittent and mocking use of the word “sir”. This is when he raised his voice a tad and delivered a rebuttal in Zulu that I wanted to reward with a one-man standing ovation.

“Musa ukukhushukelwa wushukela, ntombi. Angilwi nawe ngoba wena angikwazi nokuthi ungowaphi. Njengoba ugqoke lenyumfoma nje, ngikhuluma nalenkampani oyisebenzelayo, hhayi wena siqu.” (Calm down, dear. I’m not talking to you personally. I do not know you from a bar of soap. When you’re in that uniform, I am addressing the airline you represent.)

I walked away from that scene with two thoughts. The first was to wonder why anyone would think it wise to argue with a grey-haired 70-something wearing thick bifocals, faded corduroy pants, Hush Puppies and a tweed jacket with elbow patches. Hello? Quantum physics professor right there! The second was how much I enjoy it when someone expresses thoughts I’ve had for years in language I have struggled to formulate myself.

Call-centre agents will thoughtlessly rattle off the practised “All our calls are recorded for quality purposes” disclaimer as if it means anything. In a former life, I was a quality-management systems (QMS) consultant in the food industry. Each time I hear this line, I mentally snort derisively and roll my eyes. This is because I doubt the average call-centre manager could give you a meaningful definition of “quality”. Such a person wouldn’t be able to recognise quality if it donned a fluorescent bodysuit and twerked to Beyoncé’s Single Ladies in pitch darkness. Talk about fooling most of the people and oneself all of the time.

In my younger, stupider days, I was impatient when faced with poor service. However, I have learnt impatience is the offspring of hope — hope that things will go well

Speaking of darkness, back in the days of the 1980s UDF-Inkatha wars, there was a story on the UDF side that used to do the rounds in the townships. The stereotype about the (usually hostel-dwelling) fellows on the other side of the conflict was that most of them couldn’t read that well.

I cannot comment on the veracity of this assertion, but it was said that if they caught up with a young man wearing a T-shirt bearing perceived UDF colours, they would go about “persuading” him to switch sides with the aid of various weapons. And as they did it, they would be shouting, “Asishayi wena mfana, sishaya le DDF ekuwena!” (We’re not lashing you, young man, just the DDF in you.) They apparently couldn’t say UDF, you see.

I suppose Prof Quantum Physics from the airport was just delivering a variation of this refrain. He was merely addressing the DDF inside the dolled-up airport staffer — nothing personal.

In my younger, stupider days, I was impatient when faced with poor service. However, I have learnt impatience is the offspring of hope — hope that things will go well.

I remember an especially unpleasant exchange circa 2010 with the manager of a Sandton restaurant about the quality of the sauce accompanying my pasta. I tried to explain to him that I wasn’t really talking to him but rather to the restaurant chain he worked for. He gave me a look I’ve seen only on the faces of passengers who’ve just realised they’re on the bus to Umlazi.

In any case, should this whole newspaper columnist thing not work out, I will hopefully be able to get my old QMS gig back. I will go from company to company doing service-quality seminars, making frontline staff yell out 100 times every session, “The customer is not lashing me but the DDF inside me!”