Showing posts with label customer service. Show all posts
Showing posts with label customer service. Show all posts

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

The Death of Customer Service


A few nights ago, my son and I stopped at a local Dunkin' Donuts so he could get his new favorite snack, a cinnamon raisin bagel with strawberry cream cheese. He didn't realize until we'd gotten home that the bagel had regular cream cheese. To erase the look of utter sadness and dejection that had covered his face, I told him we'd take it back.

I didn't go back into the store with him, but knew something was wrong when he came out a few seconds later holding the very same bag he went in with. "They're all out of bagels," he said. Did they offer him anything else or a credit or refund, I wondered? They hadn't he told me. So, I did what any mama bear protecting her cub would do: I went into the store with him to get his $2.15 back.

The woman behind the counter had a look in her eye that said she'd been there for hours and was ready to just get the heck up out of Dodge and off her feet already. When she saw us step to the counter, she literally sighed like we were planning on plucking her last good nerve. Politely, I explained what my son had just explained a few minutes before. I even threw in the obligatory "I'm sure it wasn't intentional, but..." speech hoping it would ease the tension and help move things along. Not.

"So he CAN'T eat regular cream cheese?" counter woman snarled.

"I didn't say CAN'T - I said doesn't like - which is why he ordered strawberry cream cheese to begin with," I said through clenched teeth. "Can't he just get a credit or something?"

"It may take a while," she sighed again. Honestly, I had no idea what we had done to so upset her, other than ask her to correct a mistake she'd made. Guess she didn't get the memo about the customer always being right.

Thirty seconds later, the register opened and she handed my son his cash. When he put down the bag to get his money, counter woman quickly SNATCHED it off the counter. To make matters worse, her manager was standing right next to her. It was difficult to wish them a nice evening, but I did.

What's wrong with this picture? Is customer service that dead that folks working the register at the neighborhood Dunkin' Donuts have to get snooty when their "authority" is challenged? Why wasn't a refund offered in the first place? Did she see a 15-yr-old and think she could treat him like his money wasn't green enough? Did the calm Black woman politely asking for a refund unnerve her so much that she had to get indignant? To me, the manager's silence was truly a non-verbal agreement that her actions were appropriate and condoned. What the heck was that all about?

Yesterday, my son wanted to get another bagel but was a little leery about going back to the scene of the crime. And to add insult to injury, he's filled out an application to work there over the summer. Although the store is about a two minute drive from my home, I don't think I want him working there.

If he does happen to get the job, hopefully he'll understand how NOT to treat a customer from personal experience - and that's truly a shame.

Wednesday, October 8, 2008

My "Cloak of Invisibility"

Although gas prices are starting to come down, $3.40 is only CHEAPER - not CHEAP - especially in a tough economy. To save a little more of my hard-earned bucks, I've decided to buy a motorcycle. Having done my research on engine size and the like, I headed out to see a man about a bike.

I popped into the Kawasaki dealer on Rte. 32 in New Windsor one afternoon. I saw rows of beautiful, big bikes, but although I heard people milling about SOMEWHERE in the store, I saw no one. Suddenly, a head popped up from behind a desk on an upstairs platform. I got a gruff "Can I help you?" from a guy who acted like he didn't even want to be bothered with coming down the five stairs to personally greet me. I yelled up to him that I was interested in buying a bike and was looking for a model called the Eliminator. "Even if I could get one I wouldn't carry it HERE," he said. I guess he meant only manly man 750cc and above bikes dwelled within those four walls, not the dainty little 250cc ride I was searching for.

"Well, do you have any smaller engines at all?" I asked, my neck getting tired from talking to this man from so far away.

"Over there," he pointed. "I'll be down in a few - I'm putting the paper in the printer," he added.

I waited for 10 whole minutes for this fella to finish fooling with his printer. Must have had to mill the paper first, I guess. I'm not an impatient person by any stretch of the imagination, but I'm not into being ignored either. So I did what any woman in her right mind would do - I decided to search elsewhere for the bike of my dreams and left.

Is customer service really THAT jacked up that the owner (or salesman or whatever he was) couldn't come down to the sales floor to look me in the eye? Was the assumption that a woman in business attire sans motorhead fella at her side not really be interested in buying a motorcycle? Should I wear leather riding chaps and a skull cap to the next bike shop I visit?

Do guys have to think about crap like this?

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