Service With a Growl : Whatever happened to customer satisfaction? One consumer is mad about the new mercantilism and isn’t going to take it any more.

I was in a major department store, idly shopping, not looking for anything particular, when a large gold necklace caught my eye. I picked it up to admire its shape and weight, when a salesperson swooped down and snatched it from me.

“Hey,” I exclaimed. “I was looking at that.”

“Not any more,” retorted the salesperson, evidently eager to end her shift in a timely manner.

I was taken aback. After all, other cities are saddled with notorious reputations for service with a

growl, but not the City of Angels. I took up the

issue with the store manager, who took up the issue with the salesperson, who took an aspirin and went home early.

I was proud of myself for taking action. Normally, I would have shrugged, muttered under my breath, even apologized for taking up space. But over the years, I’ve come to value and assert my consumer power. Now, when I find a restaurateur unresponsive to complaints about cigarette smoke wafting over my meal, I tell the owner why we are leaving. Now, when I report a problem to my cable-television company, only to confront a representative who sassily assures me it’s my lack of understanding or my mistake, I dash off a letter to her employers.

Taking action as a consumer. Not letting service providers bully or belittle or otherwise beat one into accepting inferior goods or less-than-satisfactory service or belligerent attitudes.

And when negotiations fail, when reasonableness is unattainable, when it comes time to slap down the glove, I turn to people and agencies willing to step in and work on my behalf.

The Better Business Bureau, for one, offers a forum for complaint and arbitration. Complaint forms can be filed through a local Chamber of Commerce. Even the state Department of Consumer Affairs may provide relief--that is, if you can navigate that confusing bureaucratic sea.

But what if you want to throw in the towel? There’s still recourse to consumer satisfaction. There’s a television program, touting a new kind of crusading consumer journalist. There are the consumer

advocates, like Ralph Nader, ever vigilant. And

there’s always the municipal judge in small claims court.

But some service providers are getting hep to the trend, and have devised interesting ways to circumvent, deflect, deflate and defeat consumer anger and action.

“Take me to court,” urged the owner of a one-hour cleaning service in Monterey Park. She didn’t bother with sympathy or apology or even a negotiation. She taunted me instead. “We’ll let a judge decide,” she said confidently.

I picked up my brown-and-black houndstooth suede blazer and sighed. I had worn the beloved garment to the premiere of my play “Kimchee and Chitlins” in Chicago, and it had been a nerve-racking experience, so the blazer well deserved its first cleaning. But when it was returned to me, it was burnt, shrunk, discolored, utterly ruined. The owner herself lifted the plastic covering and showed me the damage, employing Tactic No. 1, deflect responsibility.

“This is the fault of the other cleaning company,” she said. “I contract out for special cleaning, and this is their fault. We are not responsible for this damage.”

As I pursued the matter, she deployed Tactic No. 2, humiliate customer: “This was a very cheap garment. You should complain to the manufacturer. You should spend more money and buy nice things. I know this line of clothing, and it’s very cheaply made.”

Then, Tactic No. 3, the stranger: “You are not a regular customer. I don’t recognize you. You have never been in here before. I don’t need customers like you.”

But the coup de grace and source of her confidence was Tactic No. 4, the disclaimer.

The disclaimer can be vaguely worded or detailed, but basically it works to absolve the service provider from any responsibility. Such disclaimers are surfacing everywhere--doctor’s office, dentist’s office, car-repair shop, schools. I don’t know how they stand up in a court of law, but to sign one seems to undercut consumer potency.

Call me old-fashioned. But I just can’t help these expectations that accompany me whenever I pull out my wallet. They seem to be part of a social and economic pact between reasonable people.

Perhaps people like the dry cleaner are right and notions like “Service with a smile” and “The customer is always right” are antiquated.

But the next time I am asked to lessen or abdicate my right to complain, I’m leaving the disclaimer, unsigned, on the table. I, my cash and my credit cards will politely take a walk right out the door.