Last Summer I saw myself forced to buy a new pair of running shoes. I don’t particularly like buying running shoes, because you can’t pick the cutest shoes รกnd you have to buy the one the salesperson tells you to. But they had nice red laces, and they were a new version of my regular Saucony’s, so all was well.
Until last week, when I felt a burning sensation around my heel, and when I got home I had a big blister. So I looked into my shoe, and sure enough: there was a big, fat hole in the heel surrounded with my freshly spilled blood.
There was nothing for it: I would have to go back to the running store. I hate going back to a store with a product, because the shop assistant usually assumes the customer is guilty until proven innocent. So I got there, showed the shoeguy my bloody shoe and told him about how I had ran until I bled.
Suddenly the shoeguy looked at me with new found respect, and behind me a male customer whistled and said: ‘Wow! You kept on running while your bleeding? You are really something!’
I was a bit stunned by the effect of my story, because I got the impression they thought I was this amazing kind of runner who runs for days on end, so I mumbled: ‘Oh well, I get blisters very easily you know…’
Anyway, the shoeguy looked in his computer and saw I had indeed bought these shoes only months ago, and without further ado he offered me a brandnew, sparkly pair.
It was great customer service! I am pleasantly surprised and impressed!
