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Once more I picked up the phone and called my trash pickup company, and this time I listened to a litany of choices of buttons I could punch and chose my cheerful Customer Service button again. I was transferred, listened to a brief melody when there was a “click” and I expected my cheerful voice to chirp “hello”. The next thing I heard was another click, silence, and then the dreaded dial tone that means you’ve been disconnected. Not being one of the “fainthearted”, I simply redialed my number. Again there was the litany of button choices, my choice and the music, and just when I began to feel that all was right with the world I heard – “click”, “dial tone” and nothing.
This was not the morning for the phone to be playing games with me, so I made one more determined effort and REDIALED! “NASA, we have lift-off !” I once more heard the litany of button choices, but this time I outfoxed that monotonous voice and punched “0”. I asked for the Manager of Customer Service, I was given her name and was transferred. What greeted my eager ear was, “You’ve reached the voicemail of ……., please leave your name and number and she’ll return your call.”
So here we sit - my lidless, green can and I facing another pick-up day. This eager-to-serve plastic green waif must bravely face another dutiful day half-clothed.
You must admit that is an amusing story, and one that far too many of us have lived through, but what a sad commentary it is about our business community. Doesn’t it make you wonder if our language has changed so drastically that what we interpret “Customer Service” to mean - is not what today’s business owners mean. It makes me wonder when the marriage of Customer and Service broke-up, leaving us all the lonely ones.
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