Getting customer service these days is a trip around the world, and even though you never leave your home, you still need a big bottle of Kaopectate after visiting dozens of exotic foreign locales by phone.
It was a simple computer hardware problem that required little detective work. My toner cartridge was leaking toner. A quick trip to the office supplies store for a new cartridge fixed the problem. But it also left me angry because the defective cartridge had been in use only three months and I normally got a year of service out of them. They cost $103. I figured Hewlett-Packard, the maker of the cartridge, owed me at least $73.
Hewlett Packard has designed their site so it doesn’t provide a customer service phone number or even an email address unless you complete forms identifying the product you use. There was no area to complain about toner cartridges and when I entered my 10-year-old laser printer ID, I discovered because the printer was no longer made, they no longer answered questions about it.
I found a newer printer model that used the same cartridge, entered that one, and got a phone number for technical support. It was a man in India.
He transferred me to the parts department where I spoke to a man in Mexico. He told me to call India. I said, “I did already and they sent me to you. All I need is a Return Merchandise Authorization number to exchange this defective toner cartridge.”
“No, they’re the ones who should take care of this,” he insisted. “If they don’t, ask to speak to a supervisor.” Apparently HP Mexico has it in for HP India and is used to them transferring calls. He transferred me back to technical support in India. The next person in technical support had the annoying habit of speaking his first sentence in a loud, clear voice and then mumbling the rest in a whisper. What? What?
I finally convinced him to shout every thing he had to say to me, and what he had to say was since my printer was no longer made, I would have to pay a fee to speak to someone in technical support.
But it’s not a problem with the printer, I insisted. The printer works fine. It is the toner cartridge I bought several months ago, which you still make because I bought a new one just like it today.
The tech support guy read the script to me again in his mumbling voice. Because my printer was no longer made, I would have to pay a fee for technical support.
It’s not the printer! The printer works fine! It’s the toner cartridge! I don’t need technical support! I know what’s wrong with the toner cartridge! It leaks toner! I want my money back!
He read me the script again.
I interrupted him, remembering Mexico’s advice. “Let me speak to your supervisor.”
I wasn’t sure, after a brief interlude of soothing music, that it wasn’t the same guy back on the line just pretending to be the supervisor. They sounded just alike, except this guy didn’t mumble. He at least finally understood my issue was with the toner cartridge. He gave me a phone number for Customer Satisfaction. Customer Satisfaction is in Costa Rica.
Meline, an Hispanic sounding woman who answered my call, had such a logical explanation, I couldn’t argue. “No one is here for me to ask what to do.”
You can’t do anything? You work in Customer Satisfaction, but can’t do anything?
“No, I have to ask someone.”
When will someone be back?
This was Friday night, and all the someones who could actually solve a problem, or authorize this Customer Satisfaction woman to open a case file for me had left for the day. Then the powerless Meline, who was now in charge of my satisfaction by virtue of having answered the phone, said the people who could authorize her to do something wouldn’t be back until Monday, and she was off Monday, so it would be Tuesday before she could call me back.
Apparently at HP Costa Rica, they are fully staffed all weekend with people who are not allowed to do anything.
Meline gave me her phone number and on the appointed day, when I called back, I got her voice mail. I called HP Costa Rica’s main number instead and got Tomas, who said Jorge was the king of all toner cartridge problems for HP Costa Rica. After being on hold through 15 minutes of excruciating elevator music waiting for Jorge, Tomas came back on the line and said I’d have to leave a message on Meline’s voice mail after all because she was researching my problem and had more work to do on it. How long does it take to research a leaky toner cartridge? Apparently Costa Rica must have talked about me all weekend for Jorge to know I had already called and talked to Meline.
A few days later, Meline called and asked for my address so she could send me a replacement toner cartridge. And it arrived! Well, that was easy…not. Yet I’m surprised that for once in my life, I actually got customer satisfaction, even though it took a worldwide journey through a series of linguistic hurdles, sort of like “The Amazing Race,” only by phone.
Friday, August 25, 2006
Sunday, August 13, 2006
Valuable Advice
You can’t replace something with nothing.
A little punk boy full of piercings and tattoos told me this when I was in the my lowest, most depressed period and the clarity and reasoning of it was so monumental, it literally kept me alive through years of misery until, just as he promised, something came along.
I had paid a variety of therapists, from secular to theological, and never got such life-saving advice. The boyfriend is gone, and you just have to accept the fact that if having a boyfriend is important to you, things are going to suck until you find another one. If you don’t have a good job or even a job--and jobs are important to everyone--then things are going to suck until you get one. All you can do is develop the best coping strategies you can while you are in the Great Sucking Period of your life and not get fooled into thinking things will never get better so you might as well off yourself.
You never know how long it’s going to take, but things do get better. They just do. Eventually, the nothingness gets filled with somethingness. And looking back, I can see now that every turn was a turn for the better (because, really, how could it have gotten worse?) When you’re in the middle of it, you don’t see that part. As another old adage goes, when you’re down, there’s nowhere to go but up.
Floss your teeth in the shower.
My stepfather-in-law gave me that advice. We’re all constantly told by our dentists we don’t floss enough, and who has time? My stepdad-in-law is not the master of multi-tasking, but he came up with a solution that made me, the actual master of multi-tasking, slap myself! Why didn’t I think of that?
You’re always in there a few extra delicious minutes anyway, soaking up the hot water. What better time to floss? Keep a package next to your shampoo and shock and awe your dentist at your next check-up.
Change your oil every 3,000 miles.
You know those abandoned cars you see on the side of the road with the orange stickers on them? That was my first husband. His idea of car maintenance was keep driving them until they stopped and then just walk away and get another one. The next husband was vaguely aware that maybe you should get an oil change when you got the car inspected, so our cars kept us in suspense. Would they survive to the last payment?
My current husband is the master of the 200,000 mile vehicles. He keeps cars running when all the body and upholstery has long since rotted away. He drives his cars until they are Flintstone mobiles, just engines with wheels. Our porch is constantly stocked with oil and air filters. Every few months, testosterone bubbles and he marches into the yard and changes the oil in everything parked there.
You can’t change people.
Probably some television therapist said this, or maybe I just figured it out after a long time. What you see is what you're going to get...forever and for all time. And it doesn't matter what they say about changing. They won't. They don't. The only thing that can change is you stop trying to change them.
A little punk boy full of piercings and tattoos told me this when I was in the my lowest, most depressed period and the clarity and reasoning of it was so monumental, it literally kept me alive through years of misery until, just as he promised, something came along.
I had paid a variety of therapists, from secular to theological, and never got such life-saving advice. The boyfriend is gone, and you just have to accept the fact that if having a boyfriend is important to you, things are going to suck until you find another one. If you don’t have a good job or even a job--and jobs are important to everyone--then things are going to suck until you get one. All you can do is develop the best coping strategies you can while you are in the Great Sucking Period of your life and not get fooled into thinking things will never get better so you might as well off yourself.
You never know how long it’s going to take, but things do get better. They just do. Eventually, the nothingness gets filled with somethingness. And looking back, I can see now that every turn was a turn for the better (because, really, how could it have gotten worse?) When you’re in the middle of it, you don’t see that part. As another old adage goes, when you’re down, there’s nowhere to go but up.
Floss your teeth in the shower.
My stepfather-in-law gave me that advice. We’re all constantly told by our dentists we don’t floss enough, and who has time? My stepdad-in-law is not the master of multi-tasking, but he came up with a solution that made me, the actual master of multi-tasking, slap myself! Why didn’t I think of that?
You’re always in there a few extra delicious minutes anyway, soaking up the hot water. What better time to floss? Keep a package next to your shampoo and shock and awe your dentist at your next check-up.
Change your oil every 3,000 miles.
You know those abandoned cars you see on the side of the road with the orange stickers on them? That was my first husband. His idea of car maintenance was keep driving them until they stopped and then just walk away and get another one. The next husband was vaguely aware that maybe you should get an oil change when you got the car inspected, so our cars kept us in suspense. Would they survive to the last payment?
My current husband is the master of the 200,000 mile vehicles. He keeps cars running when all the body and upholstery has long since rotted away. He drives his cars until they are Flintstone mobiles, just engines with wheels. Our porch is constantly stocked with oil and air filters. Every few months, testosterone bubbles and he marches into the yard and changes the oil in everything parked there.
You can’t change people.
Probably some television therapist said this, or maybe I just figured it out after a long time. What you see is what you're going to get...forever and for all time. And it doesn't matter what they say about changing. They won't. They don't. The only thing that can change is you stop trying to change them.
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