The difference between customer service and customer servitude is how the customer treats us. I recently had an email exchange with somebody who could have benefitted from taking a step back before venting, or at least might have benefitted either from a better education or some more intense parental guidance in childhood.
There is nothing more annoying than to have somebody stand on a soapbox and talk about something they obviously know nothing about. First, some folks who might not know that they don’t know, will learn something wrong; second, the speaker often winds up spiraling down a hole of ignorance from which they rarely return without a long ladder with rungs of restitution to climb to get back some self worth.
Of course, a customer service person often suffers stoically through such experiences, and we do not reply in kind, but if I could write back to this particular person, here is part of what I would say:
Dear Customer:
With regret and a few grumbles under my breath, I fulfilled your request today, but I really feel sorry for you. That may come as a surprise to you, since you were so adamantly stalwart in your convictions and made such an effort to be the type of customer that employees like me begrudgingly must regularly handle. It was your objective to make us feel bad, but I feel the wrong kind of bad when it comes to you and your future as a customer.
You accused us of a “bait and switch,” and it’s obvious that you are unfamiliar with what that term means. The scam involves a promise of something which the person with the offer then says is not available or has been replaced by another less desirable thing. The truth is, we helped you so much that, had you taken your blinders off and spent a moment looking at what we did for you, you would have found that, rather than baiting you, we actually set a whole smorgasbord under your nose and asked for nothing in return but your continued business.
So after a year of a passive business relationship in which you didn’t lift a finger to enjoy what we offered, you have decided to grouse by email and smugly say goodbye. I hope that someday you realize how many bridges you are burning before you find yourself with few options and fewer people who are happy to recognize you when you want something. When you think you’re right all by yourself, it is a hollow victory.
Funny thing is, no matter what, the customer never seems to feel better, and neither do we. However, the emptiness is usually replaced by a lot of thanks from happy customers who use their time judiciously to counteract the doofusses who come by every so often. I am grateful for them all, and I always hope they get more than what they want; what they truly deserve.