The Hand of Friendship

I'm going to wrap up this little series on customer service stories and leave on a high note. Not all of my experiences have been bad, as you read in my last missive. This one, though, even impressed me.

Two years ago, my wife and I got married and our joint taxes became my problem. She had been a resident of Ohio and was now a resident of Michigan. She still worked for a Toledo-based company (who still sent her withholding to Ohio). The whole situation was a little confusing to figure out. Now here is where the surprise comes in...

My vote for best customer service of 2005? The Ohio Department of Taxation. Yes, the tax collector.

I called them up hoping against hope that they would answer one simple question: How do I determine the amount of income credited to Ohio and how much to Michigan? Is that on a daily or motnhly basis? Y'see, I've got a real aversion to making mistakes in general. That goes trebly for anything having to do with taxes!

The polite and very professional man with whom I spoke was able to answer my question clearly, distinctly, and without that hint in his voice that would have said that he was talking with an idiot. Wait a minute, don't be hasty. This is not the reason that he gets my vote. This would get him a nod of thanks, but certianly not the championship trophy! Now, listen for it... He then offered, "Sir, if you'd like, we can go through some of the other calculations, just in case there might be any other confusion." Free tax help? Who am I to turn that down?

My hero then proceeded to walk me, line-by-line, through the entire State of Ohio income tax form. I was astounded and amazed. In our everyday belief system, tax collectors rank even lower than used-car salesmen and ambulance-chasing lawyers. The only real difference is that the latter two categories tend to be the butt of jokes. The tax man, though, is no laughing matter. We fear too much the havoc in our lives that his undo interest could cause and we justly fear him for it. Yet, that day, this professional young gentleman came to my rescue without my having even to ask. Maybe we need to re-evaluate our beliefs in this matter.

Certain jobs engender respect by their very nature (or should, at any rate) -- teachers, computer programmers, accountants, etc. The tax collectors, whether state or federal, have no such benefit. In general, they are reviled and feared. Few, upon learning their occupation, hang around long to share small talk at a party. That this guy could rise above it and act contrary to the stereotype should inspire the rest of us to match his example.

And so I put forth this challenge. Find the Tax Man of 2006. Who do you know who does just a mind-bogglingly good job at customer service? I'd love to hear your stories.

What was the best customer service situation you've ever experienced?

Now, On The Other Hand

I've spent the last two entries griping about bad customer service. I've complained about the moronic and insensitive louts who sometimes lie in wait at the end of the help line waiting to waste my time and boil my blood. I'm sure, however, that only a small percentage of customer service reps are truly unhappy with their jobs and are just waiting to take it out on me. A vast majority of them are just like you and I. We have our good days and we have our bad. A select few, though, seem to be willing and empowered by their employers to go above and beyond the call. This is one such tale.

My wife and I are pretty good with our finances. Before I met her, I usually only had the vaguest guess as to how much money I had in the bank. I paid more fees than I would care to count because I thought I had more than I did and the check that I wrote wasn't quite covered by the funds I had available. Before we got married she helped me get on the straight and narrow (for which I am eternally grateful). Still, when it was time to put her name on my account, we decided to get the overdraft protection, just in case.

For the longest time we had no need for the protection. Then as often happens, we made a slight change to our spending and, "wham!" we were overdrawn. Suddenly we had a $64 overdraft charge and a $12 monthly maintenance fee (which is waived in months when you don't have an overdraft). Needless to say, I thought this was a bit excessive, even if it was my fault.

So, I put on my telephone headset and decided to brace the lion in its den. I always use my headset when I am calling up institutions. I figured that I'll be on the line for a while. So I, with great reluctance, dialed the number of our financial institution, Bank One (soon to be Chase).

Remarkably, I got through to an actual person in minutes. Wow! When they say they care about my call, maybe they really do. After all, they apparently have enough people to answer the phone! The rep who answered was exceptionally polite and listened to my entire story before going onward. Don't you just love it when people listen to you? First, came the bad news. "I'm sorry, Mr. Peters, but overdraft protection has not been activated on this account." Oh, drat. I knew what was coming next -- "There is nothing I can do." or "I'm sorry, it's just our policy."

Then, a miracle occurred. This angel of mercy told me that since it was their fault, she would be able to waive not only the overdraft fee, but also the maintenance fee. You could have knocked me over with a ten dollar bill -- actually I would be diving to get that since, remember, I had insufficient funds at the time. Prior to making the call, I was seriously considering switching to a different bank. Afterward I had a new respect for an institution which would give their reps the power to make things right with the customer. I went into the call knowing that I had done wrong. The nice thing was, I didn't come out feeling worse.

I think I'll be sticking with Bank One/Chase for a good time to come.

I can't be the only one who has been impressed by a particularly exceptional act of customer support. I'd love to hear your story. Drop me a line through the comments section.

Customer Service Horror Stories, Continued

As I mentioned last time, I've had a few bad customer service incidents, but one stood out, head and shoulders, above them all. This one involved Sears and the popular Wieder Crossbow exercise machine.

About two years ago I had started an exercise program to try to keep myself in a little better shape. Apparently moving the mouse on the computer doesn't count as aerobic exercise and we computer programmers rarely get much more exercise than that. My program involved three days a week of aerobic exercise and three of resistance training (i.e. weight-lifting). It was to meet this need that my wife and I purchased the Wieder Crossbow 800, a marvel of engineering which used an electronically controlled tension bar and a series of pulleys to provide the resistance to do a variety of exercises. I loved this machine ... when it worked.

The problem was that this piece of ... equipment ... had some pretty shoddy wiring in it. When the wiring broke, the motor which increased and decreased the tension would stop working. With a ten-year warranty, the first time this happened, it didn't bother me too much. These things happen. It took Sears a month to fix the machine (they had to order a part), but it got fixed and I got back on track with my workout schedule.

The fourth time it broke, however, I was becoming a bit less sanguine about the whole situation. This is when Mr. Greg's Wild Ride began. Please keep your arms and hands inside the car at all times.

I made the usual call to Sears. They scheduled a repair visit the following Tuesday "sometime between 8 and 12". I'm sure you could all join in on the chorus on this one, but, wait. It gets better. I stayed home from work that day waiting for my savior, who, I knew, would show up, take one look at the piece of ... equipment ... and tell me it needed the new part, again. Oh, but that clever lad never showed. At 12:30, after waiting all morning, I decided to give Sears a call. Cue the scary organ music.

Call 1: The Sears repair line is busy. Not a problem. I'll call back.
Call 2: I wend my way through the voice mail maze. I finally get to the choice "Are you checking on the status of your appointment?" Why, yes, I am. "You have an appointment today between 8 and 12. Would you like me to repeat that information?" No, I knew that. "Thank you for calling Sears ." D'oh!
Call 3: Back into the voice mail abyss. "Do you want to check on that appointment again?" Nope, fool me once, shame on you... "Would you like to talk to a Customer Service Representative?" A-ha! A human! Yes, I would like that very much. "Thank you, I will now transfer you. <click><bzzzz>". Glrk.
Call 4: Busy again.
Call 5: Needless to say, I was feeling mildly cranky when finally I got hold of the poor yotz at the end of another interminable voice mail trail. Oh, but it isn't over yet.

"Sears, this is Bob speaking, how may I help you?"
"Yes, Bob, I'd like to know where the repair person is who was supposed to be here this morning."
"One moment, sir, let me look that up. Ah, yes. Apparently, the technician assigned to your case had to leave due to illness. Another technician has been assigned and should be there before 5."
"Bob, when were you going to tell me?"

Well, needless to say, the conversation went downhill a little after that.

Now, to give Sears their due, when I went in the next day to tell them they could come and haul away the piece of ... equipment ... they were more than accommodating. The young man I dealt with in the sporting goods department was efficient and sympathetic. On top of that, Sears has such a detailed sales history system, that I didn't even have to produce the receipt. It's funny how two people working for the same company can engender such a completely different response. After dealing with the collective idocy of the Sears repair department, I was this close to never buying from Sears again. Then I dealt with that helpful guy in sporting goods and he saved a customer for Sears.

Well, enough of my cathartic venting for this evening. Tomorrow I'll share a tale of good customer service. In the meantime, I'd love to hear your scary stories.

Helping Hand or Slap in the Face?

Customer Support, Technical Support, Help Desk, Hotline, Guest Services -- all wonderful names for the people you call out to when you have a problem. Sometimes they are quick-witted angels of mercy. Sometimes, well, sometimes they aren't as useful. I salute those who place their tremendous knowledge and technical skills in the service of this thankless task. Great job and thank you! For those who just read the script and go through the motions without really listening to the cries for help on the other end of the line, well, this one's for you.

Everyone has their horror stories of bad customer service. If you've worked with technology for any length of time, it seems, you really can't avoid it. I've had a few and I think it's story time. One was surprisingly bad. I say that because the company, Linksys, had always treated me wonderfully. I didn't have to call them often, but on those rare occasions that I did, they were able to get me straightened around in no time.

This time, though, my router/wireless access point was acting up. My desktop computer, connected directly to the LinkSys box, continued to chug along with no trouble. My wife's computer and my laptop, though, both using wireless connections could no longer see anything. I tried a few things, but when they didn't bear fruit, I called up the help desk -- and pronmptly received my first annoyance of the day. Wait time was 45 minutes. Not bad and certainly not enough to make me hang up and come back later. Still, a minor irritation. When the "service technician", i.e. the person reading the script, finally came on, we went through the basics (flipping things off and on, checking to make sure they are plugged in, etc), which I didn't mind. I believe in the basic troubleshooting dictum of "When in doubt, reboot".

The problem came when we had to go beyond that. The "tech" refused to comprehend that it wasn't my computer that was having the problem, despite the fact that all of my wireless computers were unable to connect. Still, in the vain hope of getting somewhere, I gamely attempted every inane "solution" she came up with, including such gems as renaming the network and plugging the router into a different outlet (I'm assuming if the lights are on, it's probably not the power). Finally after a total of three hours on the phone, I thanked her for her time, hung up, and drove out to CompUSA to get a new wireless access point. What do you know? My solution worked!

Later, I told my tail of woe to my sister-in-law, JoAnn, who used to train customer service people at the old AT&T Wireless. She told me that my mistake was patiently working with someone who patently didn't understand the situation. Within the first ten minutes I should have told them to "escalate" me. Next time I'll know!

In my next installment, though, I'll tell you about the time when I didn't have the opportunity to be "escalated"!

You must have a horror story or two, please share them with me. What was your worst cutomer service experience ever? If you are a customer service representative, I'd love to hear about the worst customer you have had to face.