The Customer Service Conundrum

The customer service system is broken.

You're nodding, aren't you? You know it. You feel it.

You can tell it's broken because there are just too many examples of horrendous service. They're becoming tropes. Stereotypes of bad service.

Should we list some? Yes, let's.

The Disappearing Server

Sometimes he starts off strong - friendly, attentive. But something happens as your meal progresses.

He changes.

Your glass empties, you notice the void, the absence, and you start to look around.

Where did he go? You empty your glass. The search becomes more frantic.

Plates empty and sit, sauces congeal, vegetables fade. Frustration builds.

Time goes on. Tides change. You watch your kids grow up before your eyes.

Your skeletal remains are all that are left at the table. Then, on the same 17-year cycle as the cidadas, he re-emerges!

You are met with that same initial level of ebullience.

"Did you save room for dessert?"

No. I've fossilized into the booth. I did not save room for dessert.

The "I'll Call You Back" Phone Rep

You've already been on hold for 38 minutes. Then Randy answers and he's sure he can help you with your issue.

After stating your issue, Randy repeats your issue back to you and reasserts that he's sure he can help you with it.

Then Randy places you on a 'brief hold."

I'm not sure Randy's definition of "brief" aligns with mine. My definition certainly doesn't run for another 13 minutes of "Hold Music."

Randy comes back and offers his "solution." Once again, there's a misalignment of definitions. I point out that Randy's "solution" is not a solution.

Randy reads from his handy list of "Answers to Possible Objections." I am not moved and remain steadfast in my pursuit of an actual solution.

Randy quickly moves to Plan B, which begins with him placing me on another brief hold.

Randy's definition of "brief" has only improved slightly. I am on hold for 11 more minutes.

Randy provides an alternative solution, which, alas, is yet again

NOT A SOLUTION, RANDY.

Randy works through his list again. Then tells me he needs to place me on a...

"Randy, don't put me on hol..."

Hold Music playing

Randy returns to let me know that he has forwarded my issue to his supervisor, who will call me back.

"When will they call me back Randy?"

"Within 24 hours."

The final definitional challenge. Apparently, Randy's definition of "Within 24 hours" means

"Never."

The Lame, Silent Type

You know this type. A cashier to whom you posit a query.

Any query. Simple or complex.

You will get the same responses - staring and silence.

"Those Spicy Sweet Chili Doritos are supposed to be $3.49."

You wait for a response.

"They rang up as $4.79. They're supposed to be..."

"...three....fort....never mind."

He finishes ringing up your order. The silence is deafening.

You pay. He hands you your receipt.

Ludicrously, pathetically,

you

thank

him.

Silence. No "You're welcome."

Certainly no "Oh no, thank YOU."

As you leave, you can't help your sad self.

"Have a good one." You bleat.

The service system is so bad that you walk out of the store muttering to yourself, angry, cursing your introverted self and your overpriced groceries.

The Solution?

I have no idea. The sheer scope of the problem is immense. I'm convinced that poor customer service is a strategy employed by even some of the largest companies.

The example of Randy, the I'll Call You Back Phone Rep is based on a true story and based on an actual phone rep from a very large communications conglomerate that shall not be named.

Want another example?

How many times have you noticed that an item rang up the wrong price. Like the aforementioned Spicy Sweet Chili Doritos?

All the time, right?

Now, how many times have you noticed that an item rang up the wrong price and the price was too low?

All the time?

I don't think so.

It almost always rings up at a higher price and it happens way too often to be a coincidence. I'm not a conspiracy theorist.

The truth is, as they say, is out there.

So what is the solution?

No idea.

Better training? Better service philosophies? More self-checkouts?

Just give me my Spicy Sweet Chili Doritos for $3.49 like you promised.