When I returned to Jamaica a few years ago, I thought I had seen the end of the poor customer service I had experienced for a few years while living on St. Maarten. To say customer service was bad on that little island would be, by any stretch of imagination, an understatement, because it simply did not exist.

So as the Caribbean Airlines finally completed its descent from the cloudy skies over Kingston on December 31, 2007, among the things I thought I had left behind was the difficulty I had expecting good service in return for spending my hard-earned dollars. I couldn't have been any more wrong.

I don't know how much my memory has been impaired, but it seemed to me that before I left Jamaica a few years earlier, that customer service was a bit better than I remembered it, or maybe because it was so bad in St. Maarten it seemed a lot better than it actually was here at home. However, in the almost four years I have been back reality has offered a brand-new perspective.

Almost everywhere you go to conduct business, it seems as if you are an intrusion on people's lives. It's like my intent to buy a product or a service is an inconvenience for the very people from whom you would be getting that good or service. It's incredible!

I had one of the worst experiences recently when I set out to get my son's football boots repaired. I took the boots to this repair shop in New Kingston, and from the moment I got there I regretted the decision to take the boots there. Don't get me wrong, I picked up a pair of well-repaired boots a couple days later but the manner in which the service was delivered left a lot to be desired.

First, the young woman who attended to me was behaving as if I was being a bother as opposed to someone about to pay J$1,500 to get a pair of football boots glued and stitched. Her face was all twisted, as if I was annoying her. Actually, she was annoying me as I was forced to stand there for what seemed like an eternity as she continued to look through me as if I wasn't standing there less than a metre in front of her. Yes, maybe she has having a bad day but that wasn't my problem. I was there to spend money with the place that employed her, and while I wasn't expecting a smile, I did expect her to be professional and, at the very least, pleasant. She was anything but.

Anyway, I gave her the pair of boots with the relevant instructions and overlooked her dour mood. I paid her the $1,500 and left. Surely, she would be in a better mood when I returned to claim my boots. I was so wrong.

First, when I got there to pick up the boots, the young woman looked like she had just heard that she had contracted full-blown AIDS and had a week to live. It took her a year to pay any attention to me, even though there was only one other person there waiting to collect shoes. She loitered, fixed her bra strap and continued to sulk. By the time I gave her my ticket, my mood had also soured. It got worse soon afterwards.

The young miss, almost seeming not to care very much that I was not there to waste time, took her sweet time looking for the pair of boots. She looked with the kind of interest of someone not very keen on finding anything. She stopped, fixed her bra again, and then muttered something unintelligible that sounded more like someone suffering from a stroke than someone attempting to ask a question. It was another attendant who translated to me that she did not know what she was looking for, so I told her. So after almost 10 minutes of time wasting, she finally brought me the pair of boots.

They do good work but I am never going back there again. I don't believe I want to put up with this woman who probably should be seeking counselling instead of serving people. I am certain I am not the only one who feels this way, but will they change? Will they recommend to the young woman that her disposition needs to improve, that she needs to show greater care when dealing with customers? I don't think so.

I don't even think the proprietors recognise they are offering dirt-poor customer service, and that, for me, is the biggest disservice.

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