Death Of Customer Service

Two things happened to me that led me into the netherworld of automated and outsourced customer service. First up, Microsoft. I'm generally a Mac person but my lap top is a PC and recently upgraded to Windows 7. Like a douche, I didn't punch in my product key on time and this resulted in it not working.

No sweat, right? I'll just call the 1-800 number and talk to a person and they'll just give me a new key and I'll be on my merry way. Way out, man. Yeah, right.

Once I got through the automated prompt with little success, I was transfered to a telephone rep. I could barely understand the person on the other line and was told there was a problem and that I had to call back after one hour. Aside from the fact I hate dealing with c/s in India - I do feel them to be rigid, too scripted and impatient. You can't joke around with them - I also don't like the presumptuous nature of the prep questions. Jesus, all I want to do is ask ONE question. I suppose it's too much to ask to simply say "Hello, this is Microsoft, what's up? at which point I ask away and I can get a nay or yay and I can move fricken on.

Instead, I'm wasting precious time punching in numbers, talking to a receiver while increasingly becoming erratic in my thoughts because I soon realize I'm nowhere I should be. Next thing I know I'm having a conversation:

Prompt: Ok. I can help you with that.
Me: We'll see.
Prompt: I'm sorry. I didn't catch that. Did you say "Cilantro?"
Me: What?
Prompt: Please enter the 54 digit/letter combo product key....NOW! If you make a mistake simply press the pound button.
Me: Ok.
Prompt: I'm sorry, I didn't catch that. Did you say "French fries?"
(I beging to punch in key. I press pound more than three times)
Prompt: I can transfer you to a representative. Do you want this? Say, yes, no, maybe, perhaps or um.
Me: Fuck me this is retarded.
Prompt: Swell. I'll transfer you.
Soft, sultry voice with Indian accent: Hello, you've reached Hello, Sexy India. For dirty talk in Bombay please press 1. For webcam action in New Dehli please press 2. For all other pleasures to feed your sexual appetite please hold the line. Please note all our representatives are Pakistani.

And then I hang up learning more than I need to know about Indian sex and less about my fricken product key!

Note: My second go around with Microsoft went better. The person I reached here in North America screened my problem and then proceeded to send me to the wrong destination but it's ok, the girl in India figured it out quickly and bounced me to the right spot. Shit happens. From there, I got my effen product key. And yes, India was professional and courteous. Although they're not much for dirty jokes.

***

My father-in-law - God rest his soul - was considered a grocery icon in Montreal. He was the master of moving merchandise, calculating shelf space and maximizing profits. We would often talk about how the grocery industry has changed - for the worse. Once upon a time, if you didn't carry a product or removed one from the shelves a client would go directly to him to complain and he would make a decision right on the spot. There was no procurement process; no telling the client to call head office. None of that bull shit.


I was at Metro today (yeah, I'm naming names) and realized they had removed a specific organic product my wife, who has severe allergies, consumes. It was the second time they clip a product off our life line. This time I was mad. Stoming my feet and flipping carriages I sreamed, "Get me the manager! And she'd better be a looker!"

Soon enough, in comes this young chick with a discreet but charming diamond on her nose. We cordially discussed the problem and she conceded was powerless. She explained that when she inputs her orders she can only choose from the list upper management provides. My only option was to call head office. She kindly gave me the number and off I went. Well, after I went to buy some bokchoy.

When I got home, driven more by curiosity, I called "customer service." It was more like talking to a person offering a sympathetic shoulder. I was told all I can do was make the complaint and put in the system where it would flutter around until some manager got around to it. At which point a shrug of the shoulders and a cool "meh" would precede a soft click of the delete button. "No one eats that shit. Fucken dust collectors."

In the end, what did I get for my concern? Absolutely nothing. My voice as a paying customer went nowhere.

Is it a stretch to think if the response was mooted here, imagine how bad things are in politics! When they say there's a disconnect between citizens and politicians it's not that hard to believe.