I recently had an opportunity to experience the concept of customer service. One of the real challenges in the world today is communication. The extent, duration, and efficacy seem threatened.
Years ago, the Chair of the Federal Reserve, Alan Greenspan, made headlines for a now oft-repeated quote:
“I know you think you understand what you thought I said but I'm not sure you realize that what you heard is not what I meant.”
Uh, ditto.
In this instance, I visited a large retail store to rent a tuxedo. This required a significant investment of time for the attendant measurements and some trying on of sample items. In short, much effort was invested in the task.
Believe me or not, I have purchased and worn a dress shirt or two over the years. I know my sizes. The measurement technician nonetheless confidently measured my sleeve length and announced to the notetaker (yes, it required two people to obtain my measurements):
Technician one: "32 inches."
Technician two: "32, check!"
Me: "No, 34/35"
Technician one: "I know what I’m doing, it’s 32."
Technician 2: "32 check!"
Me: "No, it’s a 34/35"
Technician one: "Trust me."
I was getting nowhere. The experts had their decisions made, and the course was laid. Months passed, and I presented miles away to retrieve my tuxedo. By then, of course, I was on the verge of the event.
The reader may be astounded to learn that the sleeves on the shirt were, in fact… too short. They were, believe it or not, 32-inch sleeves. I could not help but remember the fateful parting words of the confident technician: "trust me." On another, somewhat related note, the legs on the tux trousers were also too short, inches too short. L'il Abner too short.
The kind clerks assured me that the trousers could be readily fixed. They took a measurement, made a mark, and advised me that the trousers would be altered before closing time that day. They assured me that they would call when they were ready to be picked up. They were not the ones that botched the measurements, so for a moment I was reassured.
The shirt sleeves were more of a problem. I suggested that the sleeves were too short and noted how they were invisible up my jacket sleeve. I could pull them down into place, but if I moved, they rode up.
The clerk first suggested that I button the shirt sleeve tighter in hopes that it would remain taught and lower. She buttoned the sleeves as tightly as possible, pulled them down repeatedly, and noted confidently each time, "yep, you see?" And yet, each time I moved, those sleeves retreated upward and disappeared yet again.
I asked whether a larger shirt might be available. But the clerk had a different idea. She suggested that we instead shorten the jacket sleeve approximately one and 1/2 inches, so that despite the shirt sleeve riding up, it would remain visible as I moved. I was reasonably surprised by this. The jacket sleeves were exactly the correct length.
Apparently, my look of incredulity and doubt was lost upon her. I actually questioned: “You’re not serious?” To which she reiterated that shortening the jacket sleeve would be the best course forward.
I was immediately reminded of the old (1968) Jerry Lewis movie Don't Raise the Bridge, Lower the River. A great sentiment for a punch line, but logical?
Surprisingly, perhaps, I was losing my remaining modicum of faith by this point. I asked them not to shorten the jacket, and committed instead to wearing my own shirt. Despite paying them a substantial sum for a shirt that fit, they adamantly refused to provide one.
I left the entire package at the store, and assured them I would return when called, upon the trousers being fixed. I went about my day, patiently awaiting that telephone call.
The phone call never came. The tuxedo was retrieved for me the next morning as I ran other errands. But when I opened the Tux bag, I found that the trousers had not been returned to it. With minutes to spare, I made yet another trip to this national retailer. They apologized and pointed to a rack where the trousers were hanging. They handed me the hanger, complete with a pink Post-it note which read: "call when ready," and reflected my phone number.
I laughed aloud, at no one or thing in particular. The entire experience with this tuxedo had been errors, disregard, and worse.
When did we reach a point where the retailer tells us what we will consume? When did the self-perceived "expertise" of others become paramount to our own needs?
A more pertinent question is why someone would choose, purposefully, not to listen? When someone is describing their perceptions, needs, or desires, would it not behoove us to listen? That will not always mean someone is necessarily correct, but shouldn't we listen first and then make that determination?
When it comes to correcting a problem, have we lost sight of our critical thinking? The shirt sleeves are too short. Option one - zero cost, provide a larger shirt; option two - pay a sewing professional to rebuild the jacket?
The confusion is palpable. The role of any service provider is to deliver value for the customer. That value will be largely determined by the customer. Listen to the customer, strive to understand their need and perceptions. Then push to deliver in the most expeditious and efficient way you can.
Most important, when you promise, deliver. When you can't, say so. When you fail, own it and do better. Simple, direct, and frankly easy. The fact is, this will work in whatever industry or service you choose. Are we living up to your expectations? Are we actively listening? Could we do better? david.langham@doah.state.fl.us
