Let's talk about telephone customer service. Today I called AT&T to check on setting up wi-fi for my home. I have DSL through them and, after searching everywhere I could think of on their website for the quick answer, I decided to call customer service. BIG MISTAKE.
I know it is never fun, but sometimes if you can get past the annoyingly calm and condescending male automated voice and can avoid the 'valley girl-my voice raises at the end of every sentence' female voice there is hope. Today, to begin with I got someone nice who knew nothing about DSL but did seem genuine and ended up talking me through switching to a different phone plan for one of our lines that will save me money. OK, that's fine, but then it went downhill. She said she could switch me to the DSL/modem department and I could ask about a new one. The next thing I know I am listening to the valley girl voice asking me about packages! I quickly began punching O over and over and eventually got a customer service rep, for UPS! Yes, I'm not kidding! The UPS lady said for some reason they keep getting Verizon and AT&T customers transferred to them and she was sorry but she could not transfer me back to AT&T. How long do you think that will continue before the right people get the message and fix it?
My quick question turned into two more routes through the system before I got a real person who could transfer me to DSL and gave me the number in case something went wrong. What I thought would take 15 minutes, ended up taking most of the hour.
I can't change the whole system but I do offer these suggestions:
*Give people a choice of automated voices and replace the annoying voices with ones that have a caring and compassionate tone.
*When someone reports an experience where you get transferred to a completely different company, direct them to someone so it can be reported.
*Teach all of your customer service people to have compassion and be able to say "I'm so sorry that happened to you, I will try to make this a better experience." At least they could acknowledge that you have a right to be a bit upset and they understand.
So be careful out there and if you need to call customer service, be prepared.
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Monday, October 13, 2008
Darla the Plumber?
Well, that might be stretching it, but here's the story. A couple of weekends ago my husband, Paul, embarked on his yearly "Follow the Tigers" trip when he and his friends travel to watch the University of Missouri football team play an away game; this year it was to Lincoln, Nebraska. My daughter, Doran, and I look forward to this time to do our stuff, which usually includes an out of town shopping trip, I mean, it's only fair right?
Around 10:30 p.m. on Friday night we were getting in order so we could leave as soon as possible on Saturday morning. I was cleaning up in the kitchen and, having used the last paper towel, asked Doran to go downstairs and bring up some more rolls. When she came up from the basement she offhandedly asked, "You know the basement floor is all wet, right?" (This is when everything fell apart!)
I, in my old, but still comfy Victoria's Secret robe (do not think slinky or silky here, it's cotton and covers my entire body), headed down and discovered wet carpet, wet boxes, and water dripping from a pipe on the furnace that came from who knows where. After retreating to grab a pair of Crocks, I returned and began moving boxes, old golf club bags, a set of folding tv trays and 14-year-old Lego toys out of the way so I could begin to figure out what was happening. Doran was getting a bit excited now and wanted to help so I sent her for a flashlight, some old towels and finally banished her upstairs to keep her out of my way and iron our clothes for our shopping trip I was NOT giving up on yet!
Paul, was so glad to hear from me at 11 p.m. when I semi-hysterically told him the furnace was leaking, the basement was wet and asked if he had a clue what to do! Our plumber friend was nowhere to be found or else wisely decided not to answer anyone who was calling him after 10 o'clock at night. There were more phone calls back and forth, more drama, a few raised voices and a lot more leaking water until I told both of them to leave me alone to think and if I need them, I'll let them know. I sat on the damp concrete floor in a tiny space between the water heater, furnace and wall with dirty towels and my beloved robe wrapped around my legs as I mentally inventoried the situation and what I thought would work. By about 1:30 a.m. the leak was temporarily stopped with the aid of a hose and clamp I borrowed from the dehumidifier, the cut off necks of two large balloons I found in the attic and a lot of creative thinking.
By 2 a.m. I had notified Paul, taken a shower, and climbed into bed exhausted but kind of proud that I save the day, or at least the basement, by using my creativity and whatever we had on hand. My stop gap solution held for 3 days until Paul and the plumber could handle it in a more conventional way.
The lesson to be learned is, creativity isn't just for the fine arts, it's for life and it's inside you to use anytime you want to access it; I would suggest today!
Around 10:30 p.m. on Friday night we were getting in order so we could leave as soon as possible on Saturday morning. I was cleaning up in the kitchen and, having used the last paper towel, asked Doran to go downstairs and bring up some more rolls. When she came up from the basement she offhandedly asked, "You know the basement floor is all wet, right?" (This is when everything fell apart!)
I, in my old, but still comfy Victoria's Secret robe (do not think slinky or silky here, it's cotton and covers my entire body), headed down and discovered wet carpet, wet boxes, and water dripping from a pipe on the furnace that came from who knows where. After retreating to grab a pair of Crocks, I returned and began moving boxes, old golf club bags, a set of folding tv trays and 14-year-old Lego toys out of the way so I could begin to figure out what was happening. Doran was getting a bit excited now and wanted to help so I sent her for a flashlight, some old towels and finally banished her upstairs to keep her out of my way and iron our clothes for our shopping trip I was NOT giving up on yet!
Paul, was so glad to hear from me at 11 p.m. when I semi-hysterically told him the furnace was leaking, the basement was wet and asked if he had a clue what to do! Our plumber friend was nowhere to be found or else wisely decided not to answer anyone who was calling him after 10 o'clock at night. There were more phone calls back and forth, more drama, a few raised voices and a lot more leaking water until I told both of them to leave me alone to think and if I need them, I'll let them know. I sat on the damp concrete floor in a tiny space between the water heater, furnace and wall with dirty towels and my beloved robe wrapped around my legs as I mentally inventoried the situation and what I thought would work. By about 1:30 a.m. the leak was temporarily stopped with the aid of a hose and clamp I borrowed from the dehumidifier, the cut off necks of two large balloons I found in the attic and a lot of creative thinking.
By 2 a.m. I had notified Paul, taken a shower, and climbed into bed exhausted but kind of proud that I save the day, or at least the basement, by using my creativity and whatever we had on hand. My stop gap solution held for 3 days until Paul and the plumber could handle it in a more conventional way.
The lesson to be learned is, creativity isn't just for the fine arts, it's for life and it's inside you to use anytime you want to access it; I would suggest today!
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