Monday, August 07, 2006
Ten Things Flat Out Wrong - Number Two
Customer Service in America
Ok, so you say this is old news. Well, maybe it is at that. I still am often amazed at the level of customer service at retail markets all over America.
The most glaring is probably the local grocery store. These places used to jump for the customer. Bagboys hopped to action and checkout clerks worked their butts off keying in all those dollar amounts. Today, they don't have to key and the best bagger left in the world is me. We have two major outlets in my local market. One is full service and one lets you bag your own. I find that I save a little money at the place where I do the bagging, but would gladly go to the other and let them bag if only their full service wasn't worse than the acknowledged partial service at the other store.
"Paper or plastic?"
That's the extent of personal contact. Then the bagger and checkout clerk talk to each other as she swipes items by the scanner. Both stores have the same scanners in action. The full service one can't get through my order without the key question, "Do you know how much this costs?"
Somehow the lower service store never asks that question. My answer is always, "Yes I do. It's forty-nine cents."
They sometimes believe me.
After bagging two hundred dollars worth of groceries, the bagboy asks if I need help out. I say, 'No, but my food does."
Anyway, at some point people should recognize which parking lot is always full. The low service store is packed.
I go to the bank and I'm the only customer in the lobby. I walk in past the roped-off cow line that they needlessly have set-up. There are two tellers behind the counter and neither looks up. One finally speaks, "The line starts over there."
After getting over the startling amusement of her statement, I move over there and she takes care of me.
Next time in, I go through the right motions, eventhough I am again the only person in the lobby. I walk up to the open window, directly across from the teller, not more than three feet from her. She is busy with some paperwork and doesn't look up. After a minute, she calmly walks away. I'm alone.
When she returns she says, "Can I help you?"
"Yes, I need to transfer money between two of my accounts."
She hands me a withdrawal form and says, "You'll need to fill out one of these."
"They never make me do that at the other branch," I tell her.
"This is how we do it here."
I take the form and step over to the counter with the pen-on-a-chain, and fill out my new form. Meanwhile a lady comes in and gets my spot in line. When I go back, I notice she has five bags and they're all marked with the full-service grocery store's name. I wait ten minutes while she makes the commercial deposit. There is another lady behind the counter, but she's the drive-through teller with no customers and she can't help me unless I go get in my car.
I leave, get in my car, and drive to the other branch.
These are true stories and they happened last week, and they'll happen again the next time I try these locations. They represent customer service as we've come to know it. Do you have such stories of your own?
Ok, so you say this is old news. Well, maybe it is at that. I still am often amazed at the level of customer service at retail markets all over America.
The most glaring is probably the local grocery store. These places used to jump for the customer. Bagboys hopped to action and checkout clerks worked their butts off keying in all those dollar amounts. Today, they don't have to key and the best bagger left in the world is me. We have two major outlets in my local market. One is full service and one lets you bag your own. I find that I save a little money at the place where I do the bagging, but would gladly go to the other and let them bag if only their full service wasn't worse than the acknowledged partial service at the other store.
"Paper or plastic?"
That's the extent of personal contact. Then the bagger and checkout clerk talk to each other as she swipes items by the scanner. Both stores have the same scanners in action. The full service one can't get through my order without the key question, "Do you know how much this costs?"
Somehow the lower service store never asks that question. My answer is always, "Yes I do. It's forty-nine cents."
They sometimes believe me.
After bagging two hundred dollars worth of groceries, the bagboy asks if I need help out. I say, 'No, but my food does."
Anyway, at some point people should recognize which parking lot is always full. The low service store is packed.
I go to the bank and I'm the only customer in the lobby. I walk in past the roped-off cow line that they needlessly have set-up. There are two tellers behind the counter and neither looks up. One finally speaks, "The line starts over there."
After getting over the startling amusement of her statement, I move over there and she takes care of me.
Next time in, I go through the right motions, eventhough I am again the only person in the lobby. I walk up to the open window, directly across from the teller, not more than three feet from her. She is busy with some paperwork and doesn't look up. After a minute, she calmly walks away. I'm alone.
When she returns she says, "Can I help you?"
"Yes, I need to transfer money between two of my accounts."
She hands me a withdrawal form and says, "You'll need to fill out one of these."
"They never make me do that at the other branch," I tell her.
"This is how we do it here."
I take the form and step over to the counter with the pen-on-a-chain, and fill out my new form. Meanwhile a lady comes in and gets my spot in line. When I go back, I notice she has five bags and they're all marked with the full-service grocery store's name. I wait ten minutes while she makes the commercial deposit. There is another lady behind the counter, but she's the drive-through teller with no customers and she can't help me unless I go get in my car.
I leave, get in my car, and drive to the other branch.
These are true stories and they happened last week, and they'll happen again the next time I try these locations. They represent customer service as we've come to know it. Do you have such stories of your own?
