There's a secret to customer service.
It’s simple, really. It’s consideration. It’s humanity. Customer service is just about taking a moment to consider the other person. Consider they might not be having the best of days. Consider that they could be going through the worst of times. Consider they are poor. Consider that they're scared. Consider that they may be needing to hear nothing more than just some nice words. And because I sell a product that doesn’t always work. Because I deal with problems that I can’t actually fix. Because I have to tell you that it’s going to cost something you're not willing to pay.... Consideration might be all I have left to give.
I read the next name from the list.
“John?”
“Yeah!!” comes a shout from the other side of the sales floor. A man with wild hair spins it around, throws up a hand, turns to throw the display phone back on the rack and thunders toward me, Hawaiian shirt flapping up to reveal a hairy belly. He’s greasy, big, a little sweaty and visibly upset. I must try diffusing.
“Hello sir, how’s everything going today.”
“Well it could be a lot better.” I can hear his jowls.
“I’m sorry to hear that, what’s going on?”
“My phone’s broken.”
“Oh no.” I take the proffered phone into my hand. The LCD is cracked on the screen. I tread lightly as I continue, “Aw jeez”.
I always adopt the ‘aw jeez’ voice when I’m trying to take a Code Red back down to the safe zone. I don’t say “that sucks” because people don’t want to be reminded that about their life. I don’t say “yikes” because people don’t need to be more alarmed. I’ve discovered that it’s the most innocuous vocal affectation of empathy I can muster. So “aw jeez” it is.
“What’s that supposed to mean?!”
I know what it means. Experience has taught me that there is nothing I can do to this phone--nothing within the confines of my job description and corporate limitations. Three things could happen:
- The LCD can be replaced at a third-party repair store
- There is a chance that the customer has insurance or...
- Maybe he’d like to sign a contract and get a discount on a new phone.
John, as hundreds have before him, will react as follows to those options:
To the proposal of a third party repair shop: “What?!? This multi-billion dollar company doesn’t fix phones?!?!”
To that of insurance: “A $50 dollar deductible and I have to WAIT for it to be SHIPPED to me?!?! What am I supposed to do in the meantime!?!?
And to the idea of a contract: “Why the hell would I want to sign up for two more years with a company that can’t even replace my phone in the store, that has a shitty insurance replacement policy and that drops my calls every other day anyway?!? Do I look insane to you!?”
That's rhetorical, right?
So instead of launching into the options, I try and get John on my side and let him know that I am on his. I take the battery out of the phone and put it back in as I ask him about the NY tattoo on his forearm. I check for other signs of physical damage to the device as I inquire as to how he has enjoyed the seven years since he moved here. As I look up his account in the computer, I ask him if he’d ever consider changing his 917 number. I know he won’t--the 917’s never do.
Small talk coming to an end, I decide to investigate a little.
“John, do you know when this happened?”
He’s much calmer.
“Well, I always keep the phone in my back pocket. It’s always fine. This last time, I got up, pulled it out and now the screen doesn’t work anymore.”
“Well, John, you can see where some pressure has caused a little crack in the screen there?”
He gets defensive. There’s no avoiding it.
“Well, I don’t know how that happened, I never dropped it.”
“But did you, by any chance, sit on it?” And then quickly I universalize his problem to spread out the blame, “sometimes I see this happen where people sit on their phones or bump them in just the right way and this is the result. Happens all the time.”
Suddenly alarmed he starts shaking his head wildly. He can’t believe what he’s just heard and I am equally startled by his reaction. He trembles as he exclaims, “I...I....No one ever told me I couldn’t sit on the phone!”
I nod in simultaneous agreement and disbelief. I give him his options and he responds predictably, storming off and threatening to go to another provider. I pause and I think of all the other advice we’ve neglected to give this man over the years. Had we reminded him that he should look each way before crossing the street? Did we ensure that he knows not to get in a car with a stranger? Does he know what a black widow looks like? The world is a crazy, dangerous place, John. There are a lot of dangerous things out there you need to know about. Your back pocket is also a dangerous place for your phone when lurking just on the other side of it is your fat, crazy ass.
I lean over to Brooklyn, “I need a drink.”
