My very pregnant friend Danielle started a blog (http://daniespages.blogspot.com/), and even though she didn't say as much, I'm taking full credit for being the inspiration. I clearly need to do a better job of inspiring though, since she only has two posts so far. Geez, it's not like anything else is going on.
In post 2 of 2, she talks a little about customer service, and talks about being pleasantly surprised by successful encounters with people in that position. I'm a little light on creativity this morning, so I'm stealing her theme to jumpstart the posting process.
I've been in service positions before, including a couple of years working at an Italian restaurant in a mall. At the end of each day, I found that I only recalled three types of customers: assholes, weirdos, and hot chicks (I was 14 when I started there). The normal, nice folk got forgotten pretty quickly. I took this knowledge with me out into the world, and I decided that if I wanted to add color to someone-in-a-service-role's day, I only had one option: be slightly weird. I can't really be an asshole to people in person, it's just not in my nature, and even though I have nice legs, I'm not a hot chick. I'm not talking about being super-freaky and ordering in pantomime or interpretive dance or anything, just slightly different than Joe Customer.
For example, I went to the Coffee Bean near my office a couple of days ago. I asked what kind of hot teas they had, and after reviewing the list, I asked the difference between the two peppermint ones. "This one is an herbal tea," the young lady said as she pointed to the Ginseng Peppermint. "Don't you think Herbal T would make a good rap name?" I asked. She was a little caught off guard, then replied, "Isn't that kinda nerdy for a rapper?" "Well Ice T seems like it would've been too nerdy to me, but he's done alright for himself." She wasn't sold yet, so I added, "What if he's all about legalizing weed like Cypress Hill - then it's a good name, right?" She saw my point but stuck to her guns and said it just didn't seem to fit. She handed me my Ginseng Peppermint, I paid, and I guarantee you she recalls that conversation next time she makes that same tea for someone. Do I care that much about being remembered? Not really, it's more about breaking the monotony for those people. I'm a giver.
So that's what I try to do for them. What can they do for me as the customer? Simply do their jobs correctly. I don't think I ask for too much in that regard. If I'm calling customer service with a question, either have the answer or find someone who does. It's the in-between, "I'm not sure...maybe" answers that frustrate me.
Wait, I've had a lot of anger in my posts this week. It's not my fault that French Stewart and Carl's Jr. are so infuriating, but I'm going to take the high road for the rest of this post. Here is a tale of excellent customer service in a place where others would be content to be average:
I lived in Santa Barbara for a total of nine years, and I loved so many things about that town. One of the things was the number of really cool and relaxing bars. Nothing crazy, just places to chill with the homies, have a drink or two, and actually hear each other's conversations because they weren't drowned out by thumping beats. One such place is Dargan's, an Irish pub downtown. Good music, good beer on tap, pool tables, and a weekly trivia night - that kind of thing is my bag, baby. Anyway, there was a younger busboy there who stood out for doing his job very, very well. I don't know if he got paid by the number of empty glasses he brought back to the kitchen, but the minute your last drop was gone and the glass hit the table, you'd look down and it would be gone. He kicked ass at his job and did it with pride.
Yet, that's the less prominent reason that my friends and I remember this young lad. The thing is, any time he needed to either reach in front of us get our attention for some reason, he would say, "Um excuse me please." I left out commas there intentionally, because that would imply pauses between some of the words. It was never "Excuse me," or even "Please excuse me," but always - always! - "Um excuse me please." He was soft-spoken, so he might say it two or three times in a row before someone moved their hand off the empty glass. Always the same exact delivery; no fluctuation in tone or volume, just "Um excuse me please" over and over throughout an evening. We couldn't even make a drinking game out of it, because we'd all get too plastered. Naturally, we refer to him as Um Excuse Me Please to this day.
This might sound like it would get annoying after a while, but it didn't. He was working hard at his job, doing very well at it, and he unknowingly developed his own endearing catchphrase too. After a couple of years going there occasionally, Dusty showed me an article in the Santa Barbara News Press with a big picture of Um Excuse Me Please as the lead. It was all about him, and it was remarkable. This guy, it turned out, was a high school student whose parents immigrated to the U.S. when he was very young. He had three of four jobs to help them make ends meet, was an excellent student, and was in the middle of running for class president. It became clearer to me why Um Excuse Me Please did such a good job at Dargan's - it was the only way he knew how to do things.
Since this was years ago, I like to think that Um Excuse Me Please got into a good college and is now making his family proud by pouring himself into something that involves helping others. Somewhere, he's either in front of a classroom, in a board room, or meeting with a patient, and I hope he's opening with his famous line. Have a great weekend, everyone.
In post 2 of 2, she talks a little about customer service, and talks about being pleasantly surprised by successful encounters with people in that position. I'm a little light on creativity this morning, so I'm stealing her theme to jumpstart the posting process.
I've been in service positions before, including a couple of years working at an Italian restaurant in a mall. At the end of each day, I found that I only recalled three types of customers: assholes, weirdos, and hot chicks (I was 14 when I started there). The normal, nice folk got forgotten pretty quickly. I took this knowledge with me out into the world, and I decided that if I wanted to add color to someone-in-a-service-role's day, I only had one option: be slightly weird. I can't really be an asshole to people in person, it's just not in my nature, and even though I have nice legs, I'm not a hot chick. I'm not talking about being super-freaky and ordering in pantomime or interpretive dance or anything, just slightly different than Joe Customer.
For example, I went to the Coffee Bean near my office a couple of days ago. I asked what kind of hot teas they had, and after reviewing the list, I asked the difference between the two peppermint ones. "This one is an herbal tea," the young lady said as she pointed to the Ginseng Peppermint. "Don't you think Herbal T would make a good rap name?" I asked. She was a little caught off guard, then replied, "Isn't that kinda nerdy for a rapper?" "Well Ice T seems like it would've been too nerdy to me, but he's done alright for himself." She wasn't sold yet, so I added, "What if he's all about legalizing weed like Cypress Hill - then it's a good name, right?" She saw my point but stuck to her guns and said it just didn't seem to fit. She handed me my Ginseng Peppermint, I paid, and I guarantee you she recalls that conversation next time she makes that same tea for someone. Do I care that much about being remembered? Not really, it's more about breaking the monotony for those people. I'm a giver.
So that's what I try to do for them. What can they do for me as the customer? Simply do their jobs correctly. I don't think I ask for too much in that regard. If I'm calling customer service with a question, either have the answer or find someone who does. It's the in-between, "I'm not sure...maybe" answers that frustrate me.
Wait, I've had a lot of anger in my posts this week. It's not my fault that French Stewart and Carl's Jr. are so infuriating, but I'm going to take the high road for the rest of this post. Here is a tale of excellent customer service in a place where others would be content to be average:
I lived in Santa Barbara for a total of nine years, and I loved so many things about that town. One of the things was the number of really cool and relaxing bars. Nothing crazy, just places to chill with the homies, have a drink or two, and actually hear each other's conversations because they weren't drowned out by thumping beats. One such place is Dargan's, an Irish pub downtown. Good music, good beer on tap, pool tables, and a weekly trivia night - that kind of thing is my bag, baby. Anyway, there was a younger busboy there who stood out for doing his job very, very well. I don't know if he got paid by the number of empty glasses he brought back to the kitchen, but the minute your last drop was gone and the glass hit the table, you'd look down and it would be gone. He kicked ass at his job and did it with pride.
Yet, that's the less prominent reason that my friends and I remember this young lad. The thing is, any time he needed to either reach in front of us get our attention for some reason, he would say, "Um excuse me please." I left out commas there intentionally, because that would imply pauses between some of the words. It was never "Excuse me," or even "Please excuse me," but always - always! - "Um excuse me please." He was soft-spoken, so he might say it two or three times in a row before someone moved their hand off the empty glass. Always the same exact delivery; no fluctuation in tone or volume, just "Um excuse me please" over and over throughout an evening. We couldn't even make a drinking game out of it, because we'd all get too plastered. Naturally, we refer to him as Um Excuse Me Please to this day.
This might sound like it would get annoying after a while, but it didn't. He was working hard at his job, doing very well at it, and he unknowingly developed his own endearing catchphrase too. After a couple of years going there occasionally, Dusty showed me an article in the Santa Barbara News Press with a big picture of Um Excuse Me Please as the lead. It was all about him, and it was remarkable. This guy, it turned out, was a high school student whose parents immigrated to the U.S. when he was very young. He had three of four jobs to help them make ends meet, was an excellent student, and was in the middle of running for class president. It became clearer to me why Um Excuse Me Please did such a good job at Dargan's - it was the only way he knew how to do things.
Since this was years ago, I like to think that Um Excuse Me Please got into a good college and is now making his family proud by pouring himself into something that involves helping others. Somewhere, he's either in front of a classroom, in a board room, or meeting with a patient, and I hope he's opening with his famous line. Have a great weekend, everyone.
2 comments:
Nice story about Um excuse me please. But to some extent, isn't his attitude the whole Santa Barbara laid-back vibe?
I mean, whether it is the weather, their proximity to UCSB, the surfers, or just the mentality of those who were lucky enough to settle in Santa Barbara before they slammed the doors shut with their "no-growth" legislation... I've always noticed that people who live in Santa Barbara are very polite and very industrious .... and exude an air of being in the right place and the right time, and are pretty damn content, thank you.
Oh, I could spend hours and hours expousing the virtues of SB. The laid-back, friendly environmeny suited me (and countless others) perfectly, especially coming from a childhood in Los Angeles.
The thing about Um Excuse Me Please that got noticed the most was that the phrase never varied in the slighting while he did his job. I wouldn't say he was laid-back, but "polite and industrious" definitely fit the bill.
Thanks for the comment, Clark.
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