Act Like You Want to See Me and Other Customer Service Tips
By Dorothy Rosby
I once ordered antivirus software online. As it turned out, it would have been easier and more pleasant to have a virus.
I was unable to download the software so I emailed the support desk for help. Then several days later I emailed again. When no help was forthcoming, I purchased another brand and emailed the first company asking for a refund.
Then they offered to help. Then they couldn’t find any record of my order. Then they asked me to tell them what happened. Then they asked me to tell them again.
After more than a month and a dozen emails back and forth, they sent me a message saying, “Unfortunately, these issues are best resolved over the phone. Please call at your convenience.”
They must have meant at their convenience because they didn’t include a toll-free number and they left me on hold for twenty minutes—twice. Eventually I was able to speak to an actual human, or so I thought. I’ll call him SJ for “Smug Jerk”—because he was one, not because it’s his name. I forgot that, but his mother probably even calls him Smug Jerk.
Anyway, his helpful response was, “You’re past the thirty-day refund period.”
“But I’ve been emailing your company for thirty days.”
“Doesn’t matter. That’s our policy.”
Customer service rule #1: Never say, “That’s our policy.” Even if it is. The only thing more infuriating to a customer is spitting on them. SJ probably would have done that too if he weren’t far away, hiding in his little cubicle in the bowels of some giant tech firm.
SJ said his supervisor would email me the next day. I told him I’d rather give him my phone number.
“He won’t call.”
“Why not? Your email said these issues are best resolved by phone.”
“Only within thirty days.”
That’s when I did something that I normally reserve only for the people I love: I yelled at SJ. I told him his customer service skills stink, his company stinks and his cubicle probably stinks too. Actually I don’t remember what I said, but I know it did nothing to change his company’s policy.
And he was right. His supervisor didn’t call. Nor did he email. And I’m still waiting for my refund.
The experience led me to contemplate other customer service nightmares I’ve endured. (I’ve probably been on the giving end of some as well, but I don’t have that much space.)
I was calling the lone hotel in a town I would be visiting the following week. When I said, “I’ll be arriving next Thursday—that’s Thanksgiving,” the proprietress said, “I am well aware of that.” On Thanksgiving I checked into the motel, which I now fondly refer to as the Bates Motel. I commented on her lovely grandchildren who happened to be playing in the lobby. “Yes,” she said icily, “Even people who own hotels have families.”
I was getting the feeling she didn’t want to be there on the holiday. Oddly enough, at that point, I didn’t either. Which leads me to customer service rule #2: The person who has the money you want should be led to believe that you’re happy to see them—whether or not you are.
And finally customer service rule #3: If the customer is upset, give them something free. This rule is also known as: If you work at a gas station that sells watered-down gas to an easily-annoyed customer on a very hot day, and that easily-annoyed customer walks the mile back to your station not once but twice, and while she’s waiting for a tow, that easily-annoyed customer would like a cold drink, never say: “that will be a dollar and 75 cents.” (I’m not easily annoyed, but otherwise this story is entirely true.)
Of course, I’ve had some wonderful customer service too. Back in the days of landlines, I had a cordless phone die after only a few days of use. I called the manufacturer on my cellphone, worried that since I’d screamed at a stranger on the telephone once, it would be easier to do it again.
A recording told me that because of the volume of inquiries, callers were waiting an average of twelve minutes on hold that day, and that if I didn’t have time to wait, I should call later. The recording was a nice idea—but I timed them anyway.
Eight minutes later a very nice man came on the line. He quickly diagnosed the problem as a bad battery and promised to send me a new one, which he did—at no charge.
Alas, the battery was not the problem. Who cares? What customer service!
Dorothy Rosby is a blogger and humor columnist whose column appears regularly in publications throughout the West and Midwest. She’s the author of three books of humorous essays all available locally at Mitzi’s Books and on Amazon.
Dorothy Rosby
Author of Alexa’s a Spy and Other Things to Be Ticked off About