The Accidental Song

It never fails to escape me that, thanks to the Internet and blogs, I am now able to broadcast my disdain when service is not what it ought to be. Just last week, for instance, I ranted, raved and, in general, blathered on about AT&T, Verizon, Sears and other assorted retailers. My complete dissatisfaction with a local bank had not escaped publication either.

For me, an entire topic of eternal questions keeping me awake at night is: When did the customer become the enemy? In that mental folder, if you will, I place all the little questions that bog me down, like: Don’t they want to sell their product to me? Why do they hate me so? How much of my phone battery must I use up listening to their adverts and holding-on before I get to ask my question?

I think, therefore, that it is only fair to make an announcement:
There are still some folks who not only excel at customer service, they truly enjoy what they do.

(No, this is not a fantasy/science fiction entry, why do you ask?)

___________________________

This afternoon, I stepped outside to find that I had a flat tire. Disgruntled, I dialed the number for Audi Roadside Assistance. I had purchased the contract when I bought my car and this was my first time needing to use it. I wondered if it would be worth the trouble. In the past, whenever I needed a service of this kind, I usually ended up so aggravated that I ended up calling a garage on my own and paying for the help I needed rather than deal with my insurance company's so-called customer service. Enough said about that, because today was different.

Today, Jessica answered the phone on the first ring and was about as pleasant as a cool fresh breeze on a sweltering summer day. (Oh, hush. I know it’s cliché. It is also true!) She took my particulars in record time without once asking me to repeat anything, not even the lengthy, often confusing alpha/numeric Vehicle Identification Number. Impressed, I could feel my eyebrows rise and my chin lower as she confidently moved on to the next series question. We confirmed that I was indeed who I said I was, and then began the inch-by-inch identification process of the vehicle itself. With all that asked and answered, she repeated the car’s physical description back to me, inadvertently making it rhyme. My quiet chortle was not lost on her. Before I knew it, we had ourselves in stitches trying unsuccessfully to one-up each other.

Don't believe me? Here is a partial result of our efforts:

I had me a flat tire today
Wait'n for me on my Gunmetal Gray
Oh-4 A-4 Cabriolet!

If there's one thing I cannot abide
Smirking at me when I get to my ride,
Oh drat! 'S a flat! Left front. Driver side!

No need for me to continue with the whole thing. I'm confident you get the picture.

Corny? Yes. Fun? You bet. Now this might not sound like much to you, but from my point of view, it was positively brilliant! Hell, I had a flat tire. When I initiated the call, I was upset at the inconvenience and worried that I was facing the possibility that I would need to make a very expensive, unbudgeted purchase. By the time my call with Jessica reached its conclusion, I was happy and, quite frankly, over it. She made me laugh and I appreciated that.

Well done, Jessica!

I am not even going to tell you about how breathtakingly handsome and charming the mechanic was... or that he showed up at my house in ten minutes, fixed the car in five and refused a tip. I'm figuring I must have done something good somewhere this past week...


CM

*Disclaimer: My only affiliation with Audi is that I am a customer.