Day 226: Pyrrhic Refund

A visit to a shop to pick up some goods that I've ordered online.  I like this as a system.  No money wasted on delivery charges, no 'sorry we missed you' cards, and subsequent trips to the parcel depot.  All good.  When I arrive at the collection desk, there's a woman waiting to be served.  She's red with rage, and wastes no time in telling me that she's been waiting for a VERY LONG TIME.  She rings the service bell again to prove her point.  I ask her exactly how long.  FIVE (APOPLECTIC) MINUTES!!!  She bangs on the bell again and does some ranting at me.  I make mild, acknowledging noises. 

Eventually a member of staff turns up.  She apologises and fetches the woman's order.  Too late. 

Rage Woman: 'NO!  I'm so DISGUSTED with the service here that I DON'T WANT any of this stuff now.  On PRINCIPLE!  NONE of it.  I want a REFUND.'

Staff: 'Certainly, madam.'  (Awkward pause.)  'Unfortunately I can't do a refund at this desk.  This is Collections.  You'll need to queue up at Refunds over there.'       

I am slightly concerned that Rage Woman's eyes are actually going to pop out of her head.  She is so enraged now that she can't speak, but snatches the goods up, and burns a trail of righteous ire through bras and pants to Refunds. 

At this stage she could have just accepted the goods (that she'd ordered and paid for) and she'd have been out of the building, situation over.  But it's clear that her agenda now is not 'to get stuff' but 'to get cross'.  So now she has to do some extra waiting (so she can get even crosser), just so she can get a refund to prove her point (not that a shop this size will give a tiny shit), and she doesn't even end up with the stuff she wanted in the first place.  A Pyrrhic victory.  A nose cut off; a face spited.  

Or am I?

I wonder if this incident is the final straw on a morning of numerous outrages?  Or is being made to wait five minutes really so insulting it cannot be born? 

If the former, I understand.  It happens.  If the latter, then I am clearly a doormat.  And First Capital Connect are grossly insulting me on an almost daily basis, laughing in the face of my placid acceptance.  Oh well...