Customer service - how to and how not to

My biggest client - a company called Rackspace - are absolutely passionate about customer service. In fact, if you ask what they do, they'll tell you they deliver Fanatical Support. The IT Hosting bit comes very much second. Being surrounded by all this customer love has taught me a thing or two. It has also made me a lot less tolerent of companies who forget that customers ultimately pay their wages.

A couple of recent examples. I was trying to pay for three pairs of various footwear in SportsDirect (yes, three pairs... having a small boy interested in sport is a very expensive affair!). It had been something of a drama getting this far in the store as there is never anyone around to assist in finding you the right size, but at last we'd got to the point of passing over cash. Except, we hadn't quite. The queue was about 10 deep with one till open. Don't get me wrong, they weren't short staffed. There were a couple of other girls behind the till tidying up hangers and security tags - because as we all know, that is far more important a task than serving paying customers. To cut a long story short (because this was just the start of the whole sorry affair!), I ended up practically leading a rebellion of angry customers and giving them lessons in how to create a pleasing customer experience (this from the girl who wouldn't say boo to a goose for the first 30 or so years of her life!). The only reason I didn't walk out was because my son had broken his trainers and needed them for school the next morning. I shan't be shopping there again any time this century.

Then, on Sunday, my Broadband suddenly stopped working. This in itself is annoyance enough, but your heart sinks after 10 minutes of no miraculous repair and you realise you are going to have to phone Sky Technical Support. After you've been through the maze of press 2 for this, 4 for that, 1 for the other, and 5 for will someone please just answer the ****** phone, you are then through the labotomised operative who, no matter what you tell them you already know, will insist on going through a set procedure. They will then diagnose a fault with the exchange which they don't know when will be repaired. Call back later and you'll find your ticket closed (with no repair), so you have to go through the whole procedure again.... and again.... and again..... No matter how many times you tell them you've already tried switching the router off and on, they are unable to move to the next question without an answer. The second time we called, it was a fault with our machine. The third time it had moved back to the exchange, the fourth it was clear that they just making it up as they went along, by the fifth attempt I had packed my screwdriver and was on my way down there to fix the thing myself.

At no point in either of these two examples did any member of staff take ownership, admit there was a problem and use their brains to solve it.

OK rant over. We are back on Broadband but Sky lost us as a customer - not just Broadband, but TV and phone too.



Bit of a stark contrast to the BMW dealership. I went in to buy a new key - which is probably the cheapest thing in there (but still £126!). I was also worried I had a bit of an oil leak and wondered if any of the mechanics could check it out for me. Despite the fact that I was clearly not going to be parting with £40k for a new motor, I was still greeted by a smiling lady who plied me with proper coffee from a fancy machine and cake and sorted my son out an X-Box to play with, while I waited to be served in a comfy chair with a fresh newspaper. As there was a bit of a wait (ooh, at lest 5 minutes) because I'd picked a busy time, she popped back to let me know they hadn't forgotten me and make sure I was OK.

It's just a shame they don't sell trainers or supply Broadband...

A customer in need is a .... pest?

Last night I dreamt I was trying to buy a train ticket and catch a train to London.. from Polzeath… not sure what I was doing there and if that small Cornish resort even has a railway station, but that’s dreams for you! After experiencing some frustration in purchasing the ticket, including a near punch-up with an old lady who tried to queue jump and looked a bit like my Grandma, I finally got my ticket only to miss my train by one minute because I couldn’t find the train times. (Stick with me, there is actually a point to this rambling!)

The scene then switched to another angry customer complaining vociferously that they were bombarded with irrelevant information all over the station, including useless facts on advertising hoardings. All they wanted to find out what platform they needed to be on and when. Was that too much to ask? Rather than do the usual English thing of avoiding making eye contact with everyone; I instead stood on a chair and applauded this revolutionary outpouring. I was joined by the person standing next to me, then another and another, until eventually the whole station was applauding. It felt great. Then I woke up.

It may be entirely unrelated but I believe this subconscious rallying against poor customer service stemmed from a trip to the library earlier in the day when I waited patiently at the counter to pay my fines (tish – bad girl!). The ‘assistant’ was fully aware of me standing there trying awkwardly to balance a pile of books on a service desk that contains no space for such items. I mean this is a library, what do you expect!

However, he was rather busy sticking pointless labels in books. Pointless because the library has now gone self-service and your book is no longer stamped with the expected return date. Instead you wave your ticket under a laser beam and receive a receipt which you are expected to keep track of for however many weeks or remember when your books are due back (hence the fine…. I believe it’s a stealthy way of making more money out of us personally….). When he finally deigned to acknowledge my presence the look he gave me was one of withering contempt. How very dare I interrupt his important work? Who did I think I was? His eyes bored into me and I shrank a good few inches (not around the waist though, which would have been useful).

Quaking in my flip flops I explained I owed him some money. Tap tap tap on the computer as he fixed me with a beady glare and pursed his lips and prepared to tut. I handed over my coins and scurried off to the self service machine to check my books out and collect the receipt that I’ve already lost.

I left dejected and feeling slightly guilty. Am I really such a nuisance? Or had he perhaps somewhere along the line forgotten the point of his occupation. For surely it is to provide a service to the community - that being me. I may bring my books back a little late occasionally but it's my visits and token fines that pay his wages. The library is there for me not as a warm room in which to stick bits of paper on fly sleeves.

So, if you are reading this young man - take note - I have stamped your ticket!

Still, at least customer service is not dead in this country. Far from it in fact. I can think of plenty of great examples but it's late and I'm tired and I guess you're probably bored by now anyway! All this talk of librarians is sending me to sleep. Night folks.