Rant-Man's Notebook

By Jim "Rant-Man" MacQuarrie

Customer Serviced.

Customer service has gone the way of the 8-track. It's amazing to me that some companies stay in business, considering the way they treat the people who are paying them. A few examples:

I recently ordered myself a new Mac. It's a G4, 700mhz with a 40gb hard drive, 256mb of RAM, a combo DVD/CD-RW, and a 17" flat monitor, all for $1100. I found it on Pricewatch, and it seemed like a pretty good deal. It sure sounds like a good computer, but I don't know for sure, since I haven't got it yet. I think it's being delivered by mule. I ordered it on February 25. I thought these people might be a little slow when it took them two days to send an e-mail confirming that they had received my order. Especially since it informed me that my order might be delayed due to the Christmas rush.

A few days later, I called the company to see if I could find out the status. The person I spoke to told me it was "processing" and that I would get it soon. On the sixth of March, ten days after I ordered the thing, I got an e-mail informing me that because the billing and shipping addresses were different, they couldn't complete the order until I confirmed my credit card information by phone. It took them ten days to figure that out; have they ever filled an order before? So I called them and answered all their questions. I asked how long it would take for the computer to get here. The person on the other end told me about three working days. That was on Thursday, so I figured that it should be here on Tuesday. I'm so gullible.

On Wednesday, March 12, I checked my order status via the website. The last thing it mentions in the status report is confirming the credit card information. It still hadn't shipped. So I called. I explained the situation to the phone person. She asked me "have you received an e-mail from us about your credit card?" I assured her that I had, and that I had given them all the information they requested. She put me on hold for a while, then came back and said it takes 14 days for delivery. Notice they're being deliberately vague about when that 14 days begins. Is it from the time I confirmed my information? Or is it from the time of this latest phone call. I'm afraid that if i asked, her head would have exploded.

At this point I'm a bit peeved (in the same way that the L.A. Riot was a disturbance), so I ask her why it took them TEN DAYS to figure out that they needed more credit card information from me. She told me it was a glitch in the system. (Have you noticed that the primary result of the Information Revolution is that it provided a ready-made excuse for any and all incompetence? "Our system is down." "We had a glitch." Yeah. ninety percent of all computer problems are operator error; stop blaming your idiocy on the machine already.) Then I asked her why she was trying to verify my credit card information again when I had already given it six days earlier. She could only apologize for that. So then I asked her if the computer had been shipped yet. Nope. I asked why not. She had no answer. Then I told her that if it hadn't shipped by now, 15 days after I ordered it, then maybe I should just cancel the order and look for it someplace else, because I'm a little pissed right now. She tells me she's going to have somebody else talk to me.

A few minutes of hold music later, I'm talking to a guy who also has no answers for me. His line is that because I got the "free shipping" special, it's going to take 14 days for delivery; if I had paid the $49 shipping, I could have gotten it within three days. I point out to him that it's already been fifteen days, and the thing hasn't been shipped yet. He couldn't care less. So I press him: when will I get the Mac?

Suddenly I'll have it on Monday, probably. Fine. If I don't have it on Monday, I'll cancel the order.

About a month or so ago, we went and bought ourselves a bed. Our old one had been banned by the Geneva Convention as an instrument of torture, and we'd already paid for the chiropractor's car, so it was time. We went down to the store that runs those really irritating commercials, where the guy shrieks in a girlish voice about how he'll "beat any advertised price or your mattress is FREEEEEEEE!!"

We pick out a bed we like, resist the urge to shriek in a girlish voice at the price, and arrange for delivery. We're so gullible, we actually believe that setting a delivery date means that the truck will actually show up on that date. Har.

The bed was supposed to be delivered on Monday. We called on Monday to find out what time they thought they might be coming. The salesman had made a mistake and we weren't in the system (again with the system!) and they would deliver it on Tuesday. Tuesday came, and with it a phone call from the salesman. It seems the delivery guys had shown up at the store to pick up a used floor model, but he informed them that we had ordered a new one. Apparently there was a computer error (blame it on the computer!), but our bed would be there on Wednesday.

Wednesday came, and amazingly enough, so did the bed. Oh, but they forgot the hideously expensive frame that goes with it. They gave us a "loaner," the cheaper, wimpier frame that the guy had assured us we didn't want, since it would void the warranty. It took them a couple of weeks to finally deliver the correct frame. We're still waiting on the apology.

A while ago, I went to a fast food joint with some friends. Lunch for four, how hard is that? How many mistakes would you expect in an order for four? Note, there were no special orders, no "extra sauerkraut and hold the anchovies," just four simple meals. All the guy has to do is push the button with the picture of the food we want; how many ways are there to screw that up? The tally topped out at eleven. Yep, two-and-a-half errors per person. I was pretty impressed, and decided to share this achievement, so I went to the counter and asked to see the manager. The counter-guy handed me mayonnaise. "Man-a-ger. El Jefe. Boss!" I watch the concept stumble across his mind, with the progress showing clearly on his face. Finally, the glorious light of understanding bursts forth on his countenance, and he goes in back to get the boss.

The manager mumbles an apology and gives us coupons for a return visit. Yeah, like that's gonna happen.

Supposedly, the U.S. of A. has been steadily moving from an industrial economy to a service-based one. We are in BIG trouble.

I had a friend once whose family had a cow, and he told me that they had to have their cow "serviced." He didn't know what that meant, so when a guy showed up with a bull, he peeked into the barn to see what was going on. He was pretty surprised by what he saw.

And now you know what's meant by "customer service."

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