Customer Service: A Cookbook

Another victim of “customer service.”

Just about every large organization in this country, from retail companies to medical practices, has constructed an elaborate automated procedure that they call customer service. It is misnamed. Almost without exception, “customer service” is in reality  corporate service, designed to enhance the convenience of the business, not the customer, and to make sure no corporate employee has to actually talk with a customer, let alone a pissed-off customer. 

No organization hires enough people to handle the easily predictable volume of customer calls, so the first thing that happens when you finally have to call is, you get put on hold. Tinny, upbeat digital music blasts in your ear, and every 30 seconds a very enthusiastic recording reminds you that “we care about your call.” Just not enough to answer it. It will be answered, says the voice that sounds like it is on some spectacular controlled substance, “In the order in which it was received,” Years have passed since I first heard that formulation, and I still do not know what it means. Are some calls in disorder when received?

Finally, after at least 15 minutes and sometimes an hour, another chirpy voice comes on and says “Welcome to customer-service hell,” or the name of the company, depending on whether she’s being honest. It’s almost always a female voice. You start to tell her your problem because she sounds empathetic, but without paying any attention to you she says, “If you want to continue in Spanish, press two.” And you realize the voice is inhuman, generated by a computer.  

Now comes a series of six to 20 options that describe what could be your problem. Except that none of them do. “If you want more information about your new air fryer, press 6. If you want to purchase an extended warranty for your kitchen knives, press 27.” No. I bought a smart toaster-oven from you that turns on at the level marked “incinerate” at random times and uses my wifi to access porn sites. There is no button for that. 

There used to be on most of these option lists a “something else.” or an option to press 0 to speak with an actual human. These days that option, if present at all, is buried so deeply that only veteran combat soldiers have the tenacity to find it.

But if you persevere, and devote at least half a day to this enterprise, you will at last be rewarded to hear an actual human voice say, “Hawkeen ee hrpoo?” It’s a voice whose first language was not English, reading a script at the speed of light and the volume of falling dew. When you try to get the person to stop and start over, more slowly and clearly, you have to yell so loud for so long that you realize they probably don’t even have their earphones plugged in.

But if you persevere, and get the person to speak loudly and clearly (sort of) you will finally get to tell your complicated story. It takes a while, but at least a human being is listening. When you’re done there’s a pause, a sympathetic one you suppose, and then the customer service person says “I’m afraid that is not my department. I will transfer you to someone in toaster-ovens.”

And just like that, you’re back on hold. Same cheesy music, same chirpy voice saying, “We care about your call.” And then, one of two things happens: a muffled voice says “Hawkeen ee hrpoo?” Or the connection drops and you hear a dial tone.

 

[BTW: The title refers to the famous Twilight Zone episode which Earth was invaded by apparently friendly space aliens whose manual of operations was titled, “To Serve Man,” which — spoiler alert — turned out to be a cookbook. If you didn’t get the reference you’re probably too damn young and there’s nothing I can do about that.]

 

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10 Responses to Customer Service: A Cookbook

  1. Greg Knepp says:

    “Hawkeen ee hrpoo?” Great stuff, Tom. But you’d better get the hell outta’ town fast! The PC police will be beating down your door presently.

  2. Michael Graham says:

    Not just an American phenomenon. It’s just as bad in Mexico. maybe even worse. Crapification is universal.

  3. kim worth says:

    The “Cookbook” reference was to an episode of Twilight Zone, a show so good it was obviously programmed on US television by mistake.

  4. Max424 says:

    ” … reading a script at the speed of light and the volume of falling dew.”

  5. Oji says:

    Tom, you forgot the universal excuse, “We are currently experiencing heavier than usual call volumes and appreciate your patience.”

    I hear this one no matter the day or hour of my call.

  6. Rob Rhodes says:

    My solution to this is that as much as possible I buy stuff from Dealers who will actually repair it. My lawn mower eg. came from a local dealer (who also rents them). Some manufacturers limit sales of the top of the line stuff to dealers, the good stuff that pros use. I don’t even keep my receipts, they have it all on file.
    As for my toaster oven no one fixes them so I chose simple cheap ones with electro-mechanical controls, they last about five years.
    My adult children are tech support for my Stupidphone, after all they are the dealers (they gave it to me for Xmas).

  7. FamousDrScanlon says:

    I could not find the episode on youtube, but this 10min mini Doc will be of interest to Zone fans.

    To Serve Man: Why Was This Classic Twilight Zone Episode Filmed Twice?

    “Based on a short story by Damon Knight and adapted for television by Rod Serling, this Twilight Zone story is arguably one of the best and most remembered of the entire series. And that’s saying something, as Rod Serling’s The Twilight Zone is one of the most respected and probably the best anthology series of all time.”

    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fMhqguR4OFg