Polish Customer Satisfaction

One of the first things that strikes you in Poland is the customer service. Or the total lack there-of.
We stood at the delicatessen counter, while one assistant chatted to another member of staff diligently cleaning the display fridge, ignoring our presence. ‘They are discussing what day St Nikolas day is on.’ Explained Olivia, my girlfriend. I thought might have something to do with the chicken breast we were yet to order.
‘Only in Poland could you have a public holiday that nobody knows exactly when it is,’ she followed. Only in Poland would you be stood waiting for some attention, I thought to myself. Myself accustomed to the apparently high level of customer care in the UK.
It’s understandable that people earning around £2 an hour don’t give a shit about the customers that pay their wages. Before landing in Warsaw to pursue my temporary English teaching career, I myself had been in the same position. Minimum wage, minimum effort. But even then, the spectre of service with a smile had seeped into the sector of shelf-stacking.
As I wondered whether a smiley service would have any effect in this country (I think you’d have trouble selling the concept, people seem impassively pissed off) someone passed, mopping the floor. ‘How stupid a manager do you have to be to get your staff to mop the floors before the shop’s even closed?’ noticed Olivia. One not stupid enough to try getting their staff to be civil to their customers, I thought.