The Lost Art (of Customer Service)

It's a complaint I hear from just about everyone. It's a rare thing now a days to hear accolades from someone who has received exceptional service from an 800 number or from a service person in-store. My boyfriend was recently very impressed with the service he received when calling the Kobo e-reader Technical Support number. Not only did a live human answer the phone, she did so within two rings! Wow, it's a sad state of affairs when you are excited when treated with respect.

Recently, I experienced the norm. An in-store experience left me shaking my head in wonder, yet again. I do not know why these things surprise me. It happens all the time, so I must have expectations of grandeur. Of maybe finding someone that actually knows what they're doing and takes pride in their job.

The SIM card in my iPhone stopped working suddenly, in the middle of a call, of course. I don't know much about SIM cards or their importance in the cellular world, but I quickly deduced that your mobile phone is of little value when they stop functioning. I did what I thought was the wise thing to do. I called Bell Mobility, my provider.

"My iPhone says "No SIM'. I assume it's there because I was actually talking to someone on the phone." She tells me there are a few things we can try so we attempt some things to see if it's just a funny little glitch - her words. After ten minutes, it becomes painfully apparent the SIM card is dead and she tells me sadly that I will have to take the phone to a Bell corporate store. She was quite pleasant actually, seemed quite apologetic at the inconvenience of me having to drive to have my six month old phone looked at. I asked her if SIM cards were covered under warranty. She said it depended when the card was activated. I pointed out that I probably wouldn't have activated a SIM card without activating the iPhone (is it just me?) but she was unable to verify if SIM cards were covered or not.

The next day at lunch, I drive to the mall, enter the Bell store with a premonition of disaster. I figured these SIM cards cost about $200 and I was going to have to write a letter to the CEO of Bell.

I approach a youngish guy.

"Can I help ya?" He sounded really disinterested. LIke he'd rather be clipping his toenails. I explain the issue. I told him I called Bell tech support, tried a bunch of things, they told me to bring it to them.

"Didja turnitoff?"

"Sorry?" I ask. I don't understand "jumblelanguage". I tried to learn it when my kids were teenagers but I couldn't quite grasp it enough to carry on a conversation.

"DID-YOU-TURN-IT-OFF?" he repeats, as if I am deaf.

"YES-ABOUT-TEN-TIMES. THEY-SAID-THE-SIM-CARD-IS-NO-GOOD'", I tell him, in case HE is indeed deaf.

So he takes the phone, goes behind the desk and looks in a pen holder for a little doo hickey to remove the SIM card. He can't find one. Complains to his co-worker. Looks around a bit more. She hands him something. Rolls her eyes. I stand there thinking "Wow. The professionalism".

I remember as a teenager, getting my first job as a cashier at a Beckers store in my neighbourhood. My mother was a head cashier for years at a Dominion Store. The first things she told me? Always be polite. And never ever walk around looking like you're an idiot. This guys mother never was a head cashier at Dominion. Obviously.

Eventually he was able to remove the SIM card from the phone. He looks at it. Blows on it. Puts it back in the phone. Turns the phone on. Looks at the phone.

"Yer SIM cardsnogood."

"I know. That's why I am here."

"It's five bucks for a SIM card."

"Okay", I say. He stares at me. "Just out of curiosity, is it not covered under warranty? The phone is six months old."

"SIM cards aren't covered under warranty", he responds, without offering any explanation as to why this is so.

"Okay then." I reach into my purse for my wallet and pull out a twenty dollar bill. I place the money on the counter in front of him. He types something into a computer, the screen I can not see. I assume he is accessing my personal information, like my address, date of birth, date of my last menstrual cycle. This takes a few minutes. I patiently wait. (This is a HUGE deal for me but this rude young man holds the key to getting my phone working again).

"Soooooo, didja want the SIM card or not?" I look at him to make sure he's really a living breathing human being. I wanted to say "You've got to be kidding? What the hell am I going to do with an iPhone without a SIM card? Use it for an iPod? A camera? Are you stupid? Not enough oxygen?" But being a generally polite person, all I said was:

"I guess if I want to have a phone I have no choice, do I?" Duh.

Honestly.......