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Ethical considerations within customer service
Managerial skills
Managerial skills
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Recommended: Ethical considerations within customer service
I stared at the waitress as if she had grown a second head, unsure of how I was to reply to the absurdity of what she had just yelled. Surely this wasn’t the way they ran this establishment; I was already going over the Kelp review I would be leaving later. I was shocked and astounded at the audacity in her manners, shocked that no one in the staff tried to stop her. Was they just as shocked as me? Or was this a common occurrence? Either way, it wasn’t okay, nothing about this situation was okay.
“I’d like to speak to your manager,” my mother said with gritted teeth, staring the other woman down angrily. My mother would give both this place and her a piece of her mind, and that is something I would never envy them. When angry, my mother could
Previously, the narrator has intimated, “She had all her life long been accustomed to harbor thoughts and emotions which never voiced themselves. They had never taken the form of struggles. They belonged to her and were her own.” Her thoughts and emotions engulf her, but she does not “struggle” with them. They “belonged to her and were her own.” She does not have to share them with anyone; conversely, she must share her life and her money with her husband and children and with the many social organizations and functions her role demands.
how much she hates the fact that she was not affirmative in her words to Mrs. Price on
Suzie attended the IEP meeting for one of her new clients. While in the meeting, the client’s mother began crying. Suzie quickly told the mother that it was neither the time nor the place for crying. Following the meeting, Suzie met with the mother and told her she should do her best to hide her emotions.
Most importantly, the mother offers advice that only a mother should. Although she is being informative and authoritative, the mother's tone is often condescending. In particul...
“It took Mother nearly half an hour to dress my wound. There was no remorse in her eyes. I thought that, at the very least, she would try to comfort me...
Tan succeeds in her use of pathos as she manages to make her mother seem helpless. This is quite a feat, as her obvious strengths have already been displayed in situations such as when yelling at the stockbroker. Tan supports her depiction of her mother as a victim by bringing up how people “did not take her seriously, did not give her good service, pretended not to understand her, or even acted as if they did not hear her.” (37)
The Narrator’s family treats her like a monster by resenting and neglecting her, faking her death, and locking her in her room all day. The Narrator’s family resents her, proof of this is found when the Narrator states “[My mother] came and went as quickly as she could.
Her character is portrayed as being anxious through the author’s choice of dialogue in the form of diction, which is “waves of her [the mother] anxiety sink down into my belly”. The effect of this is to allow the readers to establish the emotions of the narrator, as well as establish an the uneasy tone of the passage, and how stressful and important the event of selling tobacco bales for her family is. Additionally, the narrator is seen to be uncomfortable in the setting she is present in. This is seen through the many dashes and pauses within her thoughts because she has no dialogue within this passage, “wishing- we- weren’t- here”, the dashes show her discomfort because the thought is extended, and thus more intense and heavy, wishing they could be somewhere else. The effect of the narrator’s comfort establishes her role within the family, the reason she and her sister does not have dialogue symbolizes that she has no voice within the family, as well as establishing hierarchy. The authors use dictation and writing conventions to develop the character of the narrator herself, as well as the mother. The narrator’s focus on each of her parents is additionally highlighted through
A powerful scene that is flowing with anger is when the narrator’s dad’s brother dies in a horrific accident. The narrator’s mom told him about his dad’s brother because she wanted him to understand what the world was capable of doing and to show him how his dad’s anger has prevented him from moving forward in
“As they stepped into Ms. Couchon's office, the mother, a nurse, burst into tears. Her husband, a software engineer, had just lost his job,” she explained, leaving the family strapped. “I gave her a hug and let her cry,” Ms. Couchon says. She also refused the mother's request to drop her two preschoolers from the center's roster, telling her she would cut their tuition until her husband got a new job.” (Shellenbarger, 2000).
Unfamiliarity, in the broadest sense, can evoke a feeling of fear or anxiety. However, my unique cultural upbringing has made me comfortable with unfamiliarity, and eager to embrace differences among people with compassion and tolerance. I am the product of a cultural infusion—I was born in the United Kingdom to an English father, but was influenced by the Turkish customs of my mother. While living in England, I grew up eating dinner on the floor, listening to Turkish music on the radio, and waking up to a poster of Kemal Ataturk. I spent every summer living in Turkey where I learned the language, saw the way different people lived, and became familiar with the practices of Islam. At 14 years old I was immersed in yet another culture when I
It’s 10:30am and Janice, Alex’s mother, receives a phone call. “Hi Janice, this is Mrs. Smith calling with regards to Alex. Yes, he isn’t having a good day. He has been very disruptive this morning. We tried calling Alex’s older sister to calm him down, and to talk to him, but he wouldn’t calm down.
"Your father would have insisted." She responded calmly. I glare at her, as I let out a long, irritated sigh. "Well, he's dead. He can't control me, and neither can you!" I yell as I am not glaring sharp daggers. "Lady Charlotte, I do not mean to disrespect you in any way, but you are eighteen years old. Stop acting like a goddamn five-year-old!" She yelled back, raising her voice at me. My eyes widened at the sudden outburst. Never have I seen her like this. Now I really felt bad for acting inappropriately towards her. I mean, she is only here to take care of me; and to make sure I am perfectly safe. "I'm sorry," I mumbled, as I turned my head, looking out the moving carriage.
Years ago I had the most terrifying, shocking day of my life. I had between seven or eight years when this happened. The day before the accident, all my family was at my grandfather’s house. We all were eating the food my mother and my aunts brought, telling jokes at the dinner table. Meanwhile, I was playing with my cousins in the backyard. Everyone was enjoying the family meeting. As the time passed by and everyone was about to go home, my mother suggested the idea that we all should go at my grandparent’s ranch next day, since everyone was in town we all could have the chance to go. Everyone liked the idea. It was the perfect time to go because it was a weekend. As they all agreed to go, they begun to decide who bring what to the gathering. Who would have thought that thanks to that suggestion, I would lead me to the hospital the day of the reunion.