The lights are on but no one's home . . .
I went to Dunkin' Donuts on the way to work this morning. No one in the place except the two women who were stocking the donut shelves and ignoring me. So close I could reach out and touch them. Not even looking at me. Walking back and forth like I was invisible.
Finally one looked up at me with a mix of disdain and incredulity. "Can I help you?"
"I would like a large coffee with milk, please."
Sigh. Eye roll.
"I'll get it for you but we don't open until six."
"Oh no. I'm so sorry!" (Glance at watch.) "Would you like me to come back in one minute?"
Showing posts with label customer service. Show all posts
Showing posts with label customer service. Show all posts
Friday, May 6, 2011
Thursday, September 10, 2009
I Wanna Be Your Dog
While the following story doesn't rankle me as much as my interminable Home Depot experience, my Dell hell, my two separate Delta experiences that I've never even chronicled (yet), or this Maytag debacle my brother found on Dooce, I have new found issues with Verizon Wireless.
Specifically, or at least initially, I was annoyed by the fact that the battery on my new phone won't hold a charge. I only got a new phone because my last one died, refused to recharge and, as a result, I lost everyone's numbers. But, I simply don't like the phone that I chose. I picked it out of necessity, out of a lack of time to think and out of a desire to not have to purchase all new accessories because, invariably, the cables on different brands/models are different.
Lo and behold, I can't easily swap batteries at Verizon. Instead they took my phone and placed it on a 1.5 hour test call which, in their words, "only went down a bar" apparently indicating that my phone is okay and I'm smoking crack.
Me: I rarely even use the thing. Look up my usage. How is it possible that I have to recharge it every day?
Service tech: Do you text a lot?
Me: I rarely text at all.
Service tech: Do you have poor reception at work?
Me: No.
Service tech: Do you store it in a locker?
Me: No. No. No. Not only do I not store it in a locker, it's a brand new phone. I'm comparing it to my last phone of the same brand which did not have to be charged constantly.
Service tech: Well, the new batteries are not as good as the old batteries.
Me: Did I just hear that correctly? And there's nothing we can do about that?
Service tech: That's right.
Me: Correct me if I'm wrong, but you're telling me that I'm SOL?
Service tech: Not in those words.
Me: Can I get a new phone?
Nope. Verizon won't let me trade in or up for another two years. It's how their crappy contracts are written. To hell with customer satisfaction.
But wait. Here's the kicker! I got a call that night (just a few short minutes later) from Verizon offering a new contract to raise my minutes.
Me: Why would I want to raise my minutes?
Call center lady: You had a sharp increase in minutes last month.
Me: Wow. How is that possible? I was out of the country for a week and phone-less in a conference room in CA the following week.
Call center lady: It jumped from 300 last month to over 400 this month.
Me: Well, let's just assume that was a blip and I'll raise my contract if it continues.
And a minute after I hung up, I realized what had happened. They were subverting the minutes used for my TEST call to talk me into a new blinkin' contract.
So. Messed. Up.
Specifically, or at least initially, I was annoyed by the fact that the battery on my new phone won't hold a charge. I only got a new phone because my last one died, refused to recharge and, as a result, I lost everyone's numbers. But, I simply don't like the phone that I chose. I picked it out of necessity, out of a lack of time to think and out of a desire to not have to purchase all new accessories because, invariably, the cables on different brands/models are different.
Lo and behold, I can't easily swap batteries at Verizon. Instead they took my phone and placed it on a 1.5 hour test call which, in their words, "only went down a bar" apparently indicating that my phone is okay and I'm smoking crack.
Me: I rarely even use the thing. Look up my usage. How is it possible that I have to recharge it every day?
Service tech: Do you text a lot?
Me: I rarely text at all.
Service tech: Do you have poor reception at work?
Me: No.
Service tech: Do you store it in a locker?
Me: No. No. No. Not only do I not store it in a locker, it's a brand new phone. I'm comparing it to my last phone of the same brand which did not have to be charged constantly.
Service tech: Well, the new batteries are not as good as the old batteries.
Me: Did I just hear that correctly? And there's nothing we can do about that?
Service tech: That's right.
Me: Correct me if I'm wrong, but you're telling me that I'm SOL?
Service tech: Not in those words.
Me: Can I get a new phone?
Nope. Verizon won't let me trade in or up for another two years. It's how their crappy contracts are written. To hell with customer satisfaction.
But wait. Here's the kicker! I got a call that night (just a few short minutes later) from Verizon offering a new contract to raise my minutes.
Me: Why would I want to raise my minutes?
Call center lady: You had a sharp increase in minutes last month.
Me: Wow. How is that possible? I was out of the country for a week and phone-less in a conference room in CA the following week.
Call center lady: It jumped from 300 last month to over 400 this month.
Me: Well, let's just assume that was a blip and I'll raise my contract if it continues.
And a minute after I hung up, I realized what had happened. They were subverting the minutes used for my TEST call to talk me into a new blinkin' contract.
So. Messed. Up.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Ship of Fools
Why does Amazon offer free super saver shipping only to delay said shipping indefinitely? The free shipping offer instills goodwill while the postponement negates it entirely.
Case in point: a hardcover cookbook ordered for the hubby's birthday. On his birthday, March 3, I offered an apology for his missing present. Today, March 29, upon viewing the order status and noting that it still hadn't shipped, he canceled the order. What's the point?
For Amazon, it's $58 in lost revenue today but even more in lost revenue longer term. It's so much easier to shop at the local B&N and use my discount card. Now to go to B&N and buy the latest book in John Illig's trilogy, Man in the Middle, for my brother-in-law.
You would think I'd learn.
Case in point: a hardcover cookbook ordered for the hubby's birthday. On his birthday, March 3, I offered an apology for his missing present. Today, March 29, upon viewing the order status and noting that it still hadn't shipped, he canceled the order. What's the point?
For Amazon, it's $58 in lost revenue today but even more in lost revenue longer term. It's so much easier to shop at the local B&N and use my discount card. Now to go to B&N and buy the latest book in John Illig's trilogy, Man in the Middle, for my brother-in-law.
You would think I'd learn.
Friday, January 30, 2009
Happiness as Your Business Model
I thought this was sweet and well done.
Happiness as Your Business Model
Happiness as Your Business Model
Friday, October 3, 2008
Lost in the Supermarket
The folks at Trendwatching recently coined the word PERKONOMICS.
"A new breed of perks and privileges, added to brands’ regular offerings, is satisfying consumers’ ever-growing desire for novel forms of status and/or convenience, across all industries."
I love the concept in the signage above. In this case, a retailer can reward customers who behave in ways that is consistent with their brand -- even beyond the shopping experience.
When I was preggers with Son #1, for the first time ever, people began to offer me their seats on the subway and Metro North. Yep, right when the benefits of being knocked up kicked in, we moved to Northern VA. D'oh!
What I found there, however, was also pretty cool: signs in front of the best spaces in parking lots that said "Parking for Expectant Mothers." Hey, that's me! I was suffering from exhaustion and extreme cankles at the time and really appreciated the benefit (even if walking probably would have helped). Here, at the mega-Wegs in Pittsford, we have designated parking areas for parents shopping with small children. For a while there, I was loving that, too.
All of this has made me stop to think: are there ways (other than parking related) that my clients can offer non-traditional but brand-related perks to their customers? As Taco Bell reminds me, I need to start thinking outside the bun.
------------------------------------------------------------
On an unrelated note, did Wegmans just change their logo??
to 
I'll be darned. It's definitely an improvement. Clean, less dated and more legible. But it's not grabbing me yet. Wegmans strikes me as a progressive, customer-centric, employee-friendly company; whereas, this image seems to hearken back to a bygone era. It makes me want to don an apron, vintage dress and put my hair in a beehive updo. Mind you, after saying that I wanted to be Amy Sedaris yesterday, that isn't entirely a bad thing.
(Image from AdoreVintage.com)
Maybe I can pick up the fixins for some tuna casserole.
"A new breed of perks and privileges, added to brands’ regular offerings, is satisfying consumers’ ever-growing desire for novel forms of status and/or convenience, across all industries."
I love the concept in the signage above. In this case, a retailer can reward customers who behave in ways that is consistent with their brand -- even beyond the shopping experience.
When I was preggers with Son #1, for the first time ever, people began to offer me their seats on the subway and Metro North. Yep, right when the benefits of being knocked up kicked in, we moved to Northern VA. D'oh!
What I found there, however, was also pretty cool: signs in front of the best spaces in parking lots that said "Parking for Expectant Mothers." Hey, that's me! I was suffering from exhaustion and extreme cankles at the time and really appreciated the benefit (even if walking probably would have helped). Here, at the mega-Wegs in Pittsford, we have designated parking areas for parents shopping with small children. For a while there, I was loving that, too.
All of this has made me stop to think: are there ways (other than parking related) that my clients can offer non-traditional but brand-related perks to their customers? As Taco Bell reminds me, I need to start thinking outside the bun.
------------------------------------------------------------
On an unrelated note, did Wegmans just change their logo??
to 
I'll be darned. It's definitely an improvement. Clean, less dated and more legible. But it's not grabbing me yet. Wegmans strikes me as a progressive, customer-centric, employee-friendly company; whereas, this image seems to hearken back to a bygone era. It makes me want to don an apron, vintage dress and put my hair in a beehive updo. Mind you, after saying that I wanted to be Amy Sedaris yesterday, that isn't entirely a bad thing.
(Image from AdoreVintage.com)
Maybe I can pick up the fixins for some tuna casserole.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Perlo on Furlough
Okay, so I'm not trying to get into the business of restaurant reviews but my boss and I took some high-profile clients to a much touted Perlo's last night and -- oh, how do you say -- never again?!
When you're across the street from one of the city's best Italian restaurants, your decor is suboptimal and your food only marginally better, shouldn't customer service be your strength? Otherwise, how do you differentiate yourself (in a positive fashion)?
With six people ordering appetizers, soups and full meals, shouldn't one person be "allowed" to order a smaller (i.e., children's) portion of the ravioli, if so desired? Doesn't the customer come first? Our waitress not only said "no" but also checked with the owner who also said "no dice." Our client didn't order a meal at all. Somehow that's better than
a) pleasing the customer and b) generating more revenue?
Did I mention someone in the restaurant was smoking?
What's Italian for "ass backwards": àsino al contrario?
Ciao.
When you're across the street from one of the city's best Italian restaurants, your decor is suboptimal and your food only marginally better, shouldn't customer service be your strength? Otherwise, how do you differentiate yourself (in a positive fashion)?
With six people ordering appetizers, soups and full meals, shouldn't one person be "allowed" to order a smaller (i.e., children's) portion of the ravioli, if so desired? Doesn't the customer come first? Our waitress not only said "no" but also checked with the owner who also said "no dice." Our client didn't order a meal at all. Somehow that's better than
a) pleasing the customer and b) generating more revenue?
Did I mention someone in the restaurant was smoking?
What's Italian for "ass backwards": àsino al contrario?
Ciao.
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
Mea Culpa
I ordered a work-related book from Amazon on June 26. Since the dollar amount was so close to the "free shipping" minimum, I ordered another small book to qualify. When I looked at the estimated arrival date, it stated July 8. I immediately thought, "that's impossible." I could walk there by then. They must be setting low expectations and planning to exceed them . . . wrong.
Three days later, the "shipment has left seller facility and is in transit" (Warrendale PA)
Three more days later, "arrival scan" (Warrendale PA -- same town! Traveling by rickshaw?)
Three additional days later, "in transit" followed immediately by "undeliverable"
Whaaaaaaaaaat? I checked my order and, sure enough, I had my old zip code on the shipping address from our previous office which is, by the by, two feet up the road.
My question: Wouldn't it be cheaper for the USPS to do a simple zip code lookup and deliver it to my office than to ship it back to Amazon? I know I screwed up but come on. Aren't they the official keepers of all things zip code related? What the ?
If I were Amazon and shipping a gazillion packages through the U.S. Postal Service, I would demand better service. Now, according to an email from their customer service team, I will be getting a full refund for the returned book.
Good! Because I just ordered it from Barnes and Noble and it will be ready for pickup later this week.
Three days later, the "shipment has left seller facility and is in transit" (Warrendale PA)
Three more days later, "arrival scan" (Warrendale PA -- same town! Traveling by rickshaw?)
Three additional days later, "in transit" followed immediately by "undeliverable"
Whaaaaaaaaaat? I checked my order and, sure enough, I had my old zip code on the shipping address from our previous office which is, by the by, two feet up the road.
My question: Wouldn't it be cheaper for the USPS to do a simple zip code lookup and deliver it to my office than to ship it back to Amazon? I know I screwed up but come on. Aren't they the official keepers of all things zip code related? What the ?
If I were Amazon and shipping a gazillion packages through the U.S. Postal Service, I would demand better service. Now, according to an email from their customer service team, I will be getting a full refund for the returned book.
Good! Because I just ordered it from Barnes and Noble and it will be ready for pickup later this week.
Friday, April 4, 2008
Better than the Betty
My brother and his family just got back from a fabulous vacation at La Quinta Resort & Club outside of Palm Springs.
As beautiful as it appears, I have to question: Is 41 pools and 53 hot spas enough? Gosh, what on earth would we do all day long? Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh. Sounds soooo good to me on this chilly, drab day.
The only time I have ever been in that area was for a regional sales meeting when I worked at American Express which took place at the Hyatt Grand Champions Resort in Indian Wells. (No, contrary to public opinion, I haven't been to the Betty Ford Clinic -- yet.) Because we played marginally instrumental roles in facilitating the sales meetings that year, a co-worker and I were placed (unbeknownst to us until we arrived) in our own, side-by-side, two bedroom villas complete with fireplaces, private backyards and spas. Apparently the hotel was filled to capacity and we were the primary recipients of the luxurious benefit. Who am I to complain?
When I arrived, I called the hubby to let him know I was safe and sound. During our call, I heard a knock so I put the phone down and answered the door. It was Charles, my butler (!), checking in to see if there was anything I needed. Nope! I think I'm okay!
When I got back to the phone, my ever-so-lovely husband, who overheard the brief conversation, put the phone up to his butt and proceeded to let one rip. What the . . ? His response, "I just wanted to remind you of what you were coming home to." Yeah, sadly that realization has never escaped me!
A moment later, Monique came to get me for dinner and noticed that I had a piece of chocolate on each pillow across my beds. She joked with her butler on the way out the door, "Hey, why don't I have chocolate on my pillows"? He appeared to be just as surprised as she was and apologized profusely.
Upon arriving back later that evening, she came rushing into my villa, "You HAVE to come see this." Her butler had taken hundreds of pieces of chocolate and placed them roughly an inch apart from one another completely covering her beds. She was ecstatic.
Now that's what I call service.
As beautiful as it appears, I have to question: Is 41 pools and 53 hot spas enough? Gosh, what on earth would we do all day long? Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh. Sounds soooo good to me on this chilly, drab day.
The only time I have ever been in that area was for a regional sales meeting when I worked at American Express which took place at the Hyatt Grand Champions Resort in Indian Wells. (No, contrary to public opinion, I haven't been to the Betty Ford Clinic -- yet.) Because we played marginally instrumental roles in facilitating the sales meetings that year, a co-worker and I were placed (unbeknownst to us until we arrived) in our own, side-by-side, two bedroom villas complete with fireplaces, private backyards and spas. Apparently the hotel was filled to capacity and we were the primary recipients of the luxurious benefit. Who am I to complain?
When I arrived, I called the hubby to let him know I was safe and sound. During our call, I heard a knock so I put the phone down and answered the door. It was Charles, my butler (!), checking in to see if there was anything I needed. Nope! I think I'm okay!
When I got back to the phone, my ever-so-lovely husband, who overheard the brief conversation, put the phone up to his butt and proceeded to let one rip. What the . . ? His response, "I just wanted to remind you of what you were coming home to." Yeah, sadly that realization has never escaped me!
A moment later, Monique came to get me for dinner and noticed that I had a piece of chocolate on each pillow across my beds. She joked with her butler on the way out the door, "Hey, why don't I have chocolate on my pillows"? He appeared to be just as surprised as she was and apologized profusely.
Upon arriving back later that evening, she came rushing into my villa, "You HAVE to come see this." Her butler had taken hundreds of pieces of chocolate and placed them roughly an inch apart from one another completely covering her beds. She was ecstatic.
Now that's what I call service.
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
Kudos to Webkinz®
Bear with me. I promise this is the last, albeit brief, commentary about customer service.
In stark contrast to my God-awful experience with Home Depot, my hubby sent an email to Webkinz when one of the eyes fell out of son #2’s much beloved Tree Frog.
They sent an email response within an hour, called the very next day, and promptly shipped us a new Tree Frog (free of charge) along with a gift: a free Lil’Kinz frog!
As the hubby put it, son #2 was “totally jacked.” Now we have 13 of these little creatures.
In unrelated news, Home Depot still sucks.
Friday, June 8, 2007
Yes, There is a God
After nine months of mayhem and, no exaggeration, probably 20+ calls to customer service, I just received a long overdue $125 refund from Home Depot for a wedding gift that they mis-shipped to my friends in VT.
Instead of simply reshipping the correct product without further involvement from me, Home Depot claimed to be crediting my account and I had to reorder the gift. I was also informed that, since Home Depot marked the item as "returned" on their system, someone else had already ordered it for the couple and I had to pick something else. I almost ordered something immediately, but decided (thankfully) to wait until my account was credited. I had no idea that it would take the better part of a year, with literally no response from Home Depot to my countless calls, and would result in a final, three-month “escalation” process.
During that same span of time, I have maligned the company not only personally with anyone who will listen but, more importantly, professionally in front of countless organizations by using it as a case study for “what not to do” as well as a treatise on the importance of effectively living your brand values.
You know, a good friend once joked to me, “I just read ‘I’m okay, you’re okay’ . . . I get the ‘I’m okay part’.” Well, that’s exactly how I feel about the Home Depot tagline, “You can do it. We can help.”
Home Depot either needs to streamline their internal operations, train their staff on customer service 101 (starting with the importance of returning a call), and revisit the term “escalation” or simply change their tagline. I suggest the following:
“You can do it. Let’s all sit back and crack open a beer as we watch her struggle.”
I'm going to celebrate by going on a shopping spree at Lowe's. Anyone need anything?
OMG! Update! Update! I just received a call (June 12) from Home Depot! The woman was looking into my account and couldn't figure out what was going on. I shared with her that I had already been reimbursed -- she didn't even know. Could this possible have been the call I requested in October? She stated that I had requested help reordering. As if!
Instead of simply reshipping the correct product without further involvement from me, Home Depot claimed to be crediting my account and I had to reorder the gift. I was also informed that, since Home Depot marked the item as "returned" on their system, someone else had already ordered it for the couple and I had to pick something else. I almost ordered something immediately, but decided (thankfully) to wait until my account was credited. I had no idea that it would take the better part of a year, with literally no response from Home Depot to my countless calls, and would result in a final, three-month “escalation” process.
During that same span of time, I have maligned the company not only personally with anyone who will listen but, more importantly, professionally in front of countless organizations by using it as a case study for “what not to do” as well as a treatise on the importance of effectively living your brand values.
You know, a good friend once joked to me, “I just read ‘I’m okay, you’re okay’ . . . I get the ‘I’m okay part’.” Well, that’s exactly how I feel about the Home Depot tagline, “You can do it. We can help.”
Home Depot either needs to streamline their internal operations, train their staff on customer service 101 (starting with the importance of returning a call), and revisit the term “escalation” or simply change their tagline. I suggest the following:
“You can do it. Let’s all sit back and crack open a beer as we watch her struggle.”
I'm going to celebrate by going on a shopping spree at Lowe's. Anyone need anything?
OMG! Update! Update! I just received a call (June 12) from Home Depot! The woman was looking into my account and couldn't figure out what was going on. I shared with her that I had already been reimbursed -- she didn't even know. Could this possible have been the call I requested in October? She stated that I had requested help reordering. As if!
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