How many of us has phoned "Customer Dis-Service", oh, excuse me -"Customer Service"? If one is on this planet, at one time or other, this experience, this exercise in exasperation, has been "enjoyed."
Usually,the joy ride begins like this: You phone "Customer Service" with a problem. Before you do, you logically think the entire mess through in order to sound intelligent, methodical in order to talk the "representative" through the swamp of dishonest disgust in which you are forced to wade. A phone connection is made with five options to press buttons to "serve you more effectively". Only the English option is valid, the rest does nothing to address your issue. After pressing "O" enough, you hear: "Thank you for contacting ____customer service. Your call is important to us, so please stay on the line and your call will be answered in the order in which it was received." Then, you hear, "All calls are recorded for quality assurance and training purposes." Now, right there, I challenge any and all companies, if calls were truly used for accuracy and training, one would think that someone would learn something and clean up the rather poor, badly lacking comedy show...the "get the hook" act is so old, stale, and basically ironically sad and insulting to the consumer. Shabby comes to mind. And so, you are placed on "ignore" and if your call was important, you wouldn't be placed on ignore right out of the box! The music that is played, apparently is geared to agitate an unhappy customer to the point of hysteria. Horrid, offensive, abrasive music finds it's resting place in customer dis-service "hold" lines. Finally, totally incomprehensible syllables spill into your ear. After at least seventeen attempts on your part, pleading and apologizing: "I'm sorry, I don't understand you! Is there someone who can speak reasonably understandable English?" (in those grass shacks with coconuts and strings...no, you can't say THAT) Finally, a representative who has marginal command of General American English takes you on. As a rational, mature adult, you begin your tale of woe after introducing yourself. Whoa! Whoa! "Spell you name please." Name spelled, story begins. Whoa! Whoa! "Please may I have your full address and verify your zip code." Address reported. Zip code fine and dandy, story begins. Whoa! Whoa! "The county?" UGH. You reveal the county. (Why?) "May I have your phone number please, area code first?" Now, after all of that, you begin the reason that you are calling. Whoa! Whoa! "E-mail address?" You patiently (yeah, sure) give your e-mail address and are told that it is not a valid e-mail address. The fact that you have received e-mails with that address for twenty years and that you are receiving e-mails on your phone at that address while you are being told that it is not a valid e-mail address is not relative, I suppose. After a sparing match, I finally say: "I don't have an e-mail address."
There you go! Do I have an order number, shipment number, item ID number, transaction number, authorization number, reference number, receipt number? NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO,NO! "How can I help you?" Whew! Finally! By now, you have spent three days trying to make a connection in order to ask a question. You have missed your child's first step, the first day of school, the birth of your second child and dinner!
So, you explain the "nature of your call." You are stopped, challenged, made to repeat yourself. You try to explain in other terms, answer questions and are told: "We'll get back to you." OH NO, NO, NO, NO, NO!!! You demand to speak to a supervisor who is always in a meeting. Now, I believe that my publisher, my cell phone carrier, FragranceNet.com, Amazon have parties/meetings together scheduled for supervisors all at the same time. Occasionally they meet with the billing department supervisor of my Doctor's office, the cable company's supervisor and any government agency supervisor (or not) and yuck it up together while you are waiting, because, if you do not "remain on the line" (aka IGNORE), you will never hear from any "customer dis-service supervisor" EVER! And, if you try to phone back, you have to go back to square one and begin at the very first "hello" at the start of the loop from deep, dark, tangled gyrations suffered in the previous paragraphs! So, you wait and wait as you begin looking for a machete, a lead pipe or two or a sub-machine gun to attempt achieving a little attention and "blow off steam", after you've emptied your wine bottle. Finally, you have a 50/50 shot and someone gets on the phone with a marginal vocabulary, fair language skills and whose IQ just might reach the temperature of the room. BUT...you have to explain your name, address, zip code, county, phone number all over again. Apparently, he/she is incapable of pressing "play" to hear the "recording". And then he/she gets slick: "E-mail address?" Ah-ha! you learned that you don't have a valid e-mail address from the last round in this ring...'None" you boast proudly. Snarky pants sitting in "supervisor's" chair: " So, you are telling me that ____________@____.com is not your e-mail address? I will have to transfer you to..." "NO! NO! NO! My e-mail address is: ____________@____.com, but I was told that it is not valid. When I said that I don't have one, I was still connected to the service department. Don't make me start this mess all over again! And further more, why is my e-mail address an issue? I am not phoning about e-mails, my problem is..." Then Ms. Snippy launches into : "Mam! Mam! " (I hate that) "This is for your own security! We respect privacy and security!" The Yahoo address worked just fine, Mam. Now, your mother's maiden name please?" How is your identity protected with Mom's name when I never filled that out when I bought the items (in a brick and mortar store)
in question? UGH!!!
Now, the fancy talking really begins. Let me share my latest experience:
For Christmas, I bought the trio (Grandchildren: Todd, 10; Tess, 9; Tanner, 6) Kindle Fires. I walked into Staples during a sale. Three grandchildren = three Kindle Fires. In the snappy boxes containing these electronic contraptions, only the Fires and USB cables were nestled. The actual plug for the cord ($25 each) and cases (starting at $50 are sold separately, thank you very much. By mid January, Tanner's wouldn't charge (loose port) and Todd's had no sound! So, we trooped to Staples. A nice saleswoman handed us a phone number: "Here's the phone number for Amazon Customer Service (Apparently, Amazon is the sponsor of the Swindle Fire line of torture) You will be able to resolve all of your issues in a phone call." Sure after 1. The check is in the mail and 2. You can tell me anything. I will not repeat the previous paragraphs, but actually, they accurately retell my experience. I was told: "We'll send you replacements. You must return the damaged Kindle Fires in the boxes in which the new ones are shipped. We are e-mailing you shipping labels immediately." (you know, to the invalid e-mail address? don't go there). After removing the replacements, place the returns in the boxes, USB cords, use the shipping labels and bring them to an authorized UPS shipment facility. We will take your credit card number and only if within a week, we do not receive the old Kindles, we will charge you for the new ones." This conversation occurred on Monday, January 13. On Tuesday, I received two new Kindles. On Wednesday, January 15, the defective testaments to technology were on their way back to the Thieves (without Ali Baba) Cave. I thought, "Hot Diggity!" The trio danced to "The Bird is the Word", performed Virtual Surgery, played games, built in Minecraft. In spite of the insanity with Customer Dis-Service, life was good.
Until:
February 16. A month after the Customer Dis-Service polka and shipment watusi. An e-mail from Amazon was in my in box stating that my credit card will be charged for an unreturned Kindle! Without rocket fuel and before I shed my boosters, I launched into space! I spent an hour in the scenario that I described in the beginning of this blog (again). I endured the music, the questions, retold the story 1,000 times, give or take. I stressed that if my previous calls had been recorded, they could pull from the archives my information. I also had to resort to telling "Debbie" (supervisor...got to her in 32 minutes of hellish music) that I was a finger away from hitting "send" to the BBB for this after I talk to my bank. My attorney would then tap dance because of fraud and theft. Well, well...all resolved. I asked for a confirmation of the solution, no charges, etc. She said she would e-mail it to me. Yep, the same "invalid" e-mail address through which the threatening letter was sent. Go figure. She made the mistake, after I saw the confirmation on my screen, to ask: "Is there anything else that I can do do help you? I apologize. You made sense." With every possible fiber of my being, I maintained rational restraint and replied: "Lose the abrasive, annoying, obnoxious music and please DO BE SURE that "this conversation was recorded for quality assurance and training purposes" instead of replays for amusement around the water cooler. Common sense is severely lacking. Language is a problem. Please record that for quality assurance and training purposes!
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