The art of providing help to customers before, during and after a sale is the old definition of customer service.
The new definition goes something like this:
How can I avoid answering your simple question about why our items are defective? How about this? I feel like doing my nails right now so I won’t be able to help you look that up. Here’s another good one. The avoidance technique of, “My supervisor is at lunch and won’t be back for the rest of the day.”
Years ago, you could walk into a store and the sales person would be right there ready to help you find what you’re looking for. Now, with downsizing, trying to cut costs and just plain rude behavior, you’re lucky if you don’t have to use the in-house telephone over the loud speaker saying, “Customer needs assistance in aisle 4!”
I’ve literally yelled out in the store, “Does anybody work here?” followed by the sound of crickets.
When I tried to purchase some fabric at Wal-mart once, I had to cut the fabric and scan it myself while other customers were lining up asking if I would do the same for them.
Last time I tried to explain why my water bill shouldn’t be $3,487.62 for one month to the city utility company. I was told we had broken the meter and would have to replace it. Looking outside my house, everything was intact.
Driving to the city office, walking straight up to the front desk with a digital photo of my meter, the woman behind the desk proceeds to tell me she’s not going to look or listen to what I have to say. I’m a criminal in her mind. I ask for the supervisor who was non-existent. I tried to explain once again to no avail. Finally, I told her I was not leaving until someone came I don’t care if they want to call a cop.
Along comes the supervisor, so quickly like the pop-up helper at a dry cleaner. It was a miracle. I show her the photos telling her she can come to my house and take a look. After an hour of exasperation, they decide they have the wrong house and adjust my bill to the proper fee.
Doctors and lawyers are no better. They keep us waiting in their lounges for eternity then have the nerve to bill us $200 an hour for their time. Maybe we should bill them for the time we wasted and could have been making money or helping little old ladies cross the streets. Aren’t we just as valuable to society?
This has become a typical scenario in customer service these days. Oh, how I long for the days when the customer was always right. At this point I believe the definition of customer service is now - guilty as charged!
