Former Labor Secretary Robert Reich said he could explain the problems with the economy in less than 2 minutes, 15 seconds—and he did it (with illustrations to boot). It’s great! Check it out:
httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JTzMqm2TwgE
Former Labor Secretary Robert Reich said he could explain the problems with the economy in less than 2 minutes, 15 seconds—and he did it (with illustrations to boot). It’s great! Check it out:
httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JTzMqm2TwgE
As I look back through this blog, I notice a certain theme growing in the general area of customer service issues. I’m sure that everyone has said, at one time in their life, that there should be a list where you can publicly register complaints with problems with bad customer service. These departments are always quick to mention that they’re recording calls for quality assurance and that they want you to hold the line for brief customer surveys, but their intention seems to be more directed toward rewarding their representatives for saving their company’s money by denying discounts and rebates more than it’s geared toward customer satisfaction. In the absence of a definitive online resource for these tirades, I’ve blogged verbosely about issues with a whole host of other problems (Google Voice and Solicitations, Adventures in Small Business Banking, One Voice, A Representative Will Be With You Shortly, Network Solutions is Utter Garbage, and recently, Guaranteed Value vs. Value Assessments). This post, dear readers, is yet another.
It was time to trade in my old refrigerator for a new one. Naturally, my chief concerns were price and delivery, however—being the tree-hugger that I am—I also wanted to find an appliance that qualified for at least a 20% rating above the Federal Standard. To my surprise/excitement, I learned that Sears.com rewards customers by providing a $75 discount for compliant appliances and a $100 discount for those that were at least 25% beyond the Federal Standard. Their quixotic calculator is attached for your befuddlement, if not amusement.
The day the refrigerator arrived, I mailed off the rebate forms to the New Jersey Clean Energy Program, the same forms that are prominently displayed next to the refrigerator on Sears.com. Three weeks later, just under the cut-off for when the application should be processed, I received a letter from the energy program informing me that of the vague and disheartening denial that I was disqualified due to “invalid retailer participation.”
In calling the program, they promptly sent me to the number for Sears.com customer service. Customer service sent me to the MySearsRebates.com customer service crew, who informed me that they only handle rebates on delivery. They recommended that I contact the clean energy program again. Once again, I contacted the New Jersey Clean Energy Program who informed me that I should speak with a representative at Blue Appliance Crew of Sears.com. I contacted them a second time and the representative took down my information and promptly said she’d handle the issue for me. After a half hour on hold, and without my knowledge or consent, she simply transferred me back to the MySearsRebates.com representative that I’d spoken to a half hour before. He, frustrated, provided me with the phone number for Sears National Center. “We do not handle these rebates, sir,” he said in a curt tone.
In contacting the Sears National Center, a sweet woman with a southern accent apologized for my run-around and told me she would help me with my issue. She took my information again and placed me on-hold, returning to inform me that she’d been told that this must be processed through my power company, PSE&G. This is when I started getting a little irritated. I asked her to contact PSE&G directly, while I waited on-hold. She did, and returned to tell me that PSE&G informed her that she should contact the New Jersey Clean Energy Program. I asked her to call that number, and while I waited on-hold, I shook my head at the rhetoric in simply trying to receive the rebate that they had, previously, posted as an incentive to use their services. The representative returned saying that she was told the same thing that I was told. I asked her to call the Blue Appliance Crew and she returned telling me that she was transfered to the “Sears.com Personal Shopper” number, rather than a rebate representative. She was given an additional number that customers aren’t privy to, a number for processing rebates when all else fails. After calling that number, she was told that it would not connect to a representative and made the recommendation that I be transfered to an “offline” team to look into the case further.
While I enjoyed the hold music, over the last hour, I was able to share this story with you. The case is still unresolved, though they promised a callback in 1-2 business days. When this happens, as I’m sure you know, the chances of a callback are truly hit-or-miss. I requested the representative’s identification number and a case number for my call. I also provided two phone numbers and an email address to ensure I receive a return call. Lastly, I requested that the representative leave explicit notes within my case of the revolving door that describes my journey into the world of Sears.com Customer Service.
If you’re on the edge of your seat, anxiously awaiting resolution to this harrowing tale, I must recommend that you do not hold your breath for a swift and rewarding resolution. More later…
It is with mixed emotions that my year-long search for the reason that my cell phone has been barraged with spam has finally come to an end. And the issue is equally frustrating as simple. Google is not (entirely) to blame.
About a year ago, I added Google Voice to the cell number that I’ve had for the greater part of the decade. Since then, I started receiving 1-5 automated solicitations daily from the 678 area code. I was convinced that Google sold my number to a number of solicitors but learned from friends that use their Voice service that they hadn’t received solicitations themselves. The solicitations were robo-calls where Google Voice would only capture the last 10-seconds of the call, so I couldn’t even speak with an individual to ask them to stop hounding my number. The cell number is on the national Do Not Call registry but, as you probably guessed, illegal voice solicitors—like illegal email spammers—don’t really pay attention to such courtesies. If they have your information, there’s no stopping them. So installing Mr. Number on my phone enabled me to automatically block all calls from the 678 area code—well, actually, it answers and hangs up immediately, so the call isn’t even sent to the voice mailbox. I just had to deal with the annoying Missed Calls notifications on my phone 1-5x a day. Not bad, considering.
Two weeks ago, I started to receive calls from a 770 number where an actual attendant was leaving a voicemail for their company, a loan collections center. The attendant was looking for someone named Felicia Wallace. In calling their main line, I learned that they didn’t have my cell phone number listed in their system at all. But then it started to dawn on me. I asked them if they had my Google Voice number and, sure enough, they had it listed under a delinquent payee’s account as her home number.
The center removed my Google Voice number from their system. On a whim, I asked if these numbers were susceptible to solicitations and the attendant said that from time to time, they will provide their customers’ numbers to third parties whose services they thought their customers could use (read: they sold the numbers for cash).
So Google Voice, who must’ve acquired my number within the last few years, unwittingly passed a tainted line to their voice customers—one that had previously been sold to solicitors, or would be sold within the next year. Completely absolved of any implicit wrong-doing, it’d be advantageous for Google to run tests on the numbers to see if they’re giving their customers lines that had already been sold for solicitations. At this point, the only thing that I can do is switch my Google Voice number to another, but I’d be taking the same gamble that the new number isn’t already included on any number of solicitation databases. With this in mind, I might as well keep the current one and rely on Mr. Number, as I know that it won’t be sold in the future, at least not by the loan collections center.
But if anyone in Googleland is reading this, perhaps you can use this parable as a cautionary tale to screen new voice numbers for disease before unwittingly being a “carrier” and passing the infection to the clean, untainted lines of your customers.
I’ve ranted verbosely in the past about the customer service industry going down the tubes (Adventures in Small Business Banking, One Voice, A Representative Will Be With You Shortly, Network Solutions is Utter Garbage, and recently, Guaranteed Value vs. Value Assessments) where much was stemming from experiences with online orders, so the following short tirade will certainly not seem out of character.
In an industry where 90% of the transaction is automated and inexpensive, unlike that of real estate, used car sales or even graphic design, it would seem pretty obvious that the best way to retain ecommerce customers is through a gratifying and easy online experience. If I collected money from a client under the agreement that I would deliver a design work on-time, I could assume the client would be dissatisfied when I followed up with a form letter informing them of upcoming truancy.
Their anger might even be compounded if the letter was cold, impersonal and offered no explanation for the reason of this delay—other than the fact that the issue was on my end and I’m working on it. To further add insult to the client, I might also include that I couldn’t tell them how long the delay was, except that it could be as short as 12 hours. Not communicating the reason for an issue, but sending a templated response informing the client of the second best possible scenario (other than the product being delivered on-time) is an empty method to pacify the disgruntled. I certainly understand that not all industries can quantify this equally, so providing graphic design services and mailing a widget from a colossal warehouse do not perfectly correlate. However I do think that expectations correlate, customers—particularly in a competitive market—correlate, and the services-for-cash system correlates.
Due to recent conversations that I’ve had with clients in friends, I’ve been thinking a lot about consumer behavior surrounding discounted items. One of my clients attests the following, which I found the be pretty interesting:
The current emphasis on web coupons and social site tie ins neglects another fundamental rule of retailing: guaranteed value. We tend to buy high-priced items at discount because we perceive that we are getting a good deal. But the same psychology works in reverse sometimes. We believe we are being overcharged unless we are getting a discount. Without guaranteed value, we tend to decide to purchase at the last moment, or decide not to purchase in advance because we assume or fear the price will be too high.
In this argument, he goes on to note spending habits on airline tickets, hotel rooms, Netflix and other luxury items like those offered by Groupon. Granted, I’m giving you a snippet of this client’s argument without the full context, but the point is pretty clear. The notion of discounts genuinely changes buying habits for certain items and services. It’s absolutely true that I may decide which mode of transportation (much less which airline) to book for a family vacation. The airline industry, particularly with the emergence of discount fliers like Ryan Air and jet blue, show a pristine example of buying habits and how discounts dissuade consumers from spending money on what once was a pretty average price. However, this mentality certainly doesn’t work for all purchases. Read more
God I really, REALLY wish they seized this opportunity to get rid of Continental’s dated globe icon. It looks like all they did was change the font to a Gothic face and call it a day. What a waste of a great chance to reinvent themselves.