Equal time

On the flip-side of the real-life customer service experience, it is only right to describe the good, since yesterday was all about the not-so-good. And by good, I mean, delightfully and surprisingly wonderful.

I am inspired by a woman named Carolyn who was a former colleague and friend. Unfortunately we lost touch many years ago, but I have always remembered her stories. She was an astute manager and adhered to several effective techniques for managing her staff in a productive way. One of her techniques focused on dedicating more time to communicating about good things than bad. Some members of her team had a tendency to walk into her office with complaints. While she wanted to offer an ear to true problems, she did not want to create an open-door policy for idly airing grievances. One of her policies was that the person sitting across her desk could verbalize a negative observation about the workplace only after giving two positive observations.

So here is my equal airtime, ala Carolyn’s method. I just reversed the order.

First place goes to CVS. Their automated customer service line gives me a call approximately 10 days before my prescription runs out and by pressing a few buttons on my telephone keypad, I’ve just submitted an easy-easy refill request. I am the type of person that forgets to call until I’m out of medicine, so this proactive customer service benefit is astonishingly simple, but truly appreciated! I don’t even mind that it’s an automated system calling and not a human.

Second place goes to the friendly staff members at BBVA-Compass Bank and Amegy Bank. They must have some sort of banking competition going on, because I noticed after recent visits to both (in the lobby) that a staff member of each bank made it a point to offer a personal, cheerful greeting, complete with eye contact and a genuine smile. It was such a nice feeling and I will probably make it a point to go inside the bank next time I’m there rather than the drive-through.

Royal silliness

Holiday season brings with it a certain amount of pageantry and performances by our local schools. Last night I was invited to attend a dinner theater, of sorts, produced by Cristy’s nephew’s high school choral madrigal ensemble. The students were adorned in brilliant period costumes and had transformed their school into a medieval banquet hall complete with scullery-maid servants, a royal court, a narrator-jester and a well-choreographed duel of which Erol Flynn would have been most proud.

Amidst the madrigal music performances was a complete dinner service for the audience, primarily parents and family. In return for the meal, the audience good-naturedly participated in some requisite silliness. Namely, acting out the holiday classic 12 Days of Christmas.

Of the 12 tables of guests, each table acted out one of the gifts described in the song. With two student facilitators per table encouraging us to free our imaginations and give in to the overall craziness, we were also told that a “prize” would be awarded to the funniest table.

OK. Adults are not much likely to indulge in this kind of child’s play on an average Saturday night without so much as a spiked wassail to soften inhibitions, but attach an incentive on the other side and all the type-A personalities begin emerging. Granted, the prize was undefined at this point, but with each verse of the song, the competitive spirit in the room escalated.

Of course, our table won. We were not surprised because by this time we had completely locked in on the goal: to WIN THE PRIZE. And the prize, as we learned, happened to be the honor of wearing paper crowns for the remainder of the evening. Obnoxious glittery purple paper crowns that more resembled dunce hats than trappings of royalty. The student “king” bestowed our reward with gestures of grandeur and we returned to our table almost (dare I admit it?) gloating. No matter that the prize was perhaps even more humiliating than the contest. We won it. Which is also the same as: everyone else lost. Hahahahahaha.

Sadly, we left behind our crowns upon departing. It was the closest I will ever get to hanging out with the royals.

Meandering mind of the commuter III

Today's morning commute was reasonably light, just the typical slow patch a bit north of the 610 loop. As usual, with no distraction from my out-of-commission car audio system, my mind is free to wander. Hundreds of thought fragments float behind my eyes, a tiny thread dangling at the bottom of each. I grab one, follow it for a few moments until it carries my brain to another. Then I release it and follow the next thread. Every so often this stream-of-subconsciousness bubbles up to the surface and calls for my conscious attention.

It happened that way this morning, one of these thought fragments caught my attention and took me to the phrase noblesse oblige. It reminded me of a conversation I had with someone a number of years ago. The content of the conversation was regarding community service and the source of personal motivation to become involved in service. At the time, I had never heard this phrase and did not know the precise meaning. And my stupid pride stood in the way of just asking. Within the context of the conversation, I had a feeling that the definition had something to do with extending oneself in service due more from a sense of socio-economic obligation than desire to extend a helping hand.

So, I looked it up today, all these years later. Seems as though the precise meaning of the phrase needs to be inferred from the tone in which it is spoken. Makes sense. It is an old phrase, originating in an age where hard class distinctions were routinely observed as part of daily life.

And I wonder, now, if it matters. I mean, in terms of that original conversation years ago: is the act of performing community service somehow invalidated if it does not come from a pure place of love, but rather from a sense of obligation? Right now, I’d say no. I think the real question is whether the individual performing the service will realize that his or her time and effort is needed and valued. And consequently, whether that person can then forge a personal link to our innate human tendency to offer help, transforming the motivation into a human connection, rather than a chore or obligation. In other words, is this person likely to integrate community service into their life because it is meaningful?

Hmmm, just a thought for the day from the meandering mind of the commuter.

Hypothesis on consumer behavior

How many opportunities do you have to make a mistake before the mistake adversely affects customer loyalty/retention? My hypothesis is that this number is getting smaller and smaller. Consumers, me included, have a reduced level of tolerance for mistakes, even perceived mistakes. This intolerance is attributable to both an abundant supply (purchase options) and attention to spending (perceived value of goods received).

Example 1: This morning I awoke early to take care of an errand. My morning ritual includes coffee and my coffee of choice is a flavor infused selection. Today, I opened a new package of Seattle’s Best hazelnut cream blend. However, I was disappointed to discover that the coffee was indeed not hazelnut infused at all. It was plain ground coffee. Did I brew it? Yes. Was this coffee substandard in any way? No. Did it taste bad? No. Did it meet my expectations? No, only because I wanted hazelnut instead of regular. Will I purchase Seattle’s Best products again? Maybe not.

What is the logic behind this decision? I am trying to be very objective about this. Coffee is not a luxury item; it is not exceedingly costly. I could go to the grocery store and make another coffee purchase right now if I felt that strongly about having hazelnut coffee on hand. However, my level of confidence in Seattle’s Best has diminished because I know that, at least once, there was a quality control error in their product packaging supply chain. I suspect that by now the quality control error has been remedied, but my overall personal experience with this brand has been affected. There is greater likelihood that the next time I select ground coffee it will be a brand other than Seattle’s Best.

Example 2: About three weeks ago Cristy and I dropped into PF Chang’s for an impromptu dinner on a weekday evening. The restaurant was not full and we were seated promptly. Our overall experience that evening was beyond disappointing. Our young server was impudent, aloof and possibly incompetent. We did not receive all of the food items we requested, even after a repeated request. Even though the food we did receive was excellent, there is almost no chance that we will return to this restaurant. Dining options are simply too plentiful and we would prefer to spend our consumer dollars in an establishment where we have previously received a favorable experience, both in terms of product and service rather than choose to extend another chance to an establishment where our experience was truly abysmal.

Example 3: Over the course of three years, I have established a consumer relationship with Montrose Car Care Center based on two factors – their location and the friendliness and sense of confidence I felt in the former manager’s general automotive knowledge. About 9 months ago, that manager departed. I was told his departure was related to the illness of a family member in another city. This seemed reasonable, so I continued to steer my automotive maintenance service needs to this business. However, after two subsequent misdiagnoses, later remedied at another establishment, my opinion regarding the range of services realistically available from this repair shop has narrowed significantly. I still take my automobile here for an occasional oil change, based solely on its convenient proximity to my office, but it is extremely unlikely that I would consider asking them to diagnose a (future) mechanical problem with my Volvo.

I may or may not be a good model for an average consumer. I do not have enough information to compare my own consumer behavior with the range of customers that purchase Seattle’s Best coffee, dine at PF Chang’s or select Montrose Car Care for automotive repair services. However, if my consumer behavior is representative of the broader population, the conclusion is that there is a direct and correlation between a single negative experience and loss of customer confidence, or worse, complete customer defection.