That's Life: Customer service 4-3-09

Issue of April 3, 2009 / 9 Nissan 5769

Dear That’s Life,

In these hard times in which we find ourselves, people are cutting back on luxuries on which they had spent money in the past, in order to save or to afford necessities. There are “for sale” and “for rent” signs all over town. Some stores that sell luxury items are still in business, but I don’t know how or for how long.

Having been invited out for lunch on Shabbos, I decided to get our hosts a nicer-than-usual gift and placed an order at a local specialty shop. They took my order, and phone number and told me to arrive 40 minutes later to pick it up. I arrived promptly and gave my name to the cashier. He looked around at the already prepared orders and said, “It’s not ready yet.”

“What do you mean ‘it’s not ready yet?’” I said. “I came when you told me to –– at the time you chose.” He was not impressed. “It’s not ready yet,” he repeated, “and that’s the way it is.”

Well, excuse me.

“I don’t understand,” I continued. “You told me to come at this time and you have my phone number but did not call me to tell me to come later and now here I am.”

“I’ve been helping out in the back all day,” he replied. “We have a lot of orders.” He asked me if I could wait another 10 minutes but I could not –– I had carpool.

“Do you deliver?” I asked. He said yes. OK, I thought, but then thought again.

“Are you going to charge me for delivery?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said, unflinching and unapologetic.

Taking a step back, I reviewed the situation with him. “So let me get this right –– I came when you told me to, you were not ready and did not call me to tell you were running behind, and now you’re going to charge me for delivery?”

"Yes,” he said and, without hesitating, added, “that’s the way it is.”

Now I was really frustrated. “Nothing is ‘the way it is’” I answered, “and stop saying that.” But to really understand my options, I asked how much delivery was and I was told $12. “You’re going to charge me $12 when this was your mistake?!” I exclaimed. But before I could hear that infuriating line again, I said I would be back in 20 minutes which would give me time to calm down but also to think of what I would say next.

As I re-entered the store, the gentleman at the front looked up and asked my name. He checked the orders and said it was ready. As he handed it to me I asked, “Are you the owner?” He replied that he was not.

“So let me ask you something,” I began. “In this economy when spending this kind of money on a luxury item is insane and possibly fiscally irresponsible, why would you do anything but try to ingratiate yourself with a customer instead of infuriating a customer so the next time, they take their business elsewhere?”

He said nothing, turned away and headed back to the counter. “I should not have told you to come then –– I should have told you to come a half an hour later –– that was my mistake,” he replied. “That was the first of many mistakes,” I answered, “but the worst part of it is how you have not taken responsibility for any of it.”

There our conversation ended. I finished filling out my card, heard nothing else from him in the form of a mutter, an explanation or an apology and went on my way. There are plenty of other places for me to spend my money, I thought, and they come with customer service — something we deserve in any economy.

MLW