I guess one of the benefits of having a blog is that it gives you a place to vent your pet peeves. Here’s one of mine.
Almost every company these days that has a customer service line uses a voice-mail system that, in theory, routes you to the right person (or robot) to address your particular issue, but more often than not first takes you on an automated tour of hell.
I’m especially partial to those systems that ask you to choose from a list of categories but give you no option for talking to a human being in case (1) none of the categories applies to you, or (2) your issue isn’t one that can be resolved by an automated system. Some people have learned that pressing * or 0 will cut through the nonsense and get them to an actual person. In other cases repeating “representative” four or five times may do the trick. I’m often chagrined at how loudly I find myself shouting the word “representative” through gritted teeth before I finally get through to one.
As maddening as these systems can be, when I finally get through to an actual human, that person is almost always professional, helpful and even downright pleasant. It’s a good thing, too, because by the time I get through to them I’m often close to my boiling point. It takes everything I’ve got to remember that the person I’m talking to had nothing to do with designing the voice-mail torture chamber that I’ve been subjected to for the last 18 minutes.
But that’s not even the most frustrating part. At the end of the call, many companies want me to take an automated survey to rate the performance of the customer service representative. These surveys never provide an opportunity to rate the damnable voice-mail system that I had to put up with before reaching the representative. Never have I heard a question like, “If our automated system made you want to shoot yourself, and you’re still alive only because you finally got through to Sally, press 1.”
Sometimes the surveys do include a question that seems to provide an opportunity to express my frustration, such as “How likely are you to recommend XYZ Company to others?” The problem is, I have no doubt that an honest answer will inevitably result in some kind of demerit for the kind, helpful customer service rep I just finished speaking to.
So I’ve concluded that there are only two options: Answer the survey without regard for the frustrations caused by the voice-mail system, giving the customer service representative the good ratings he or she deserves, or just decline to answer the survey at all. The latter option is especially attractive when I remember that the company is asking to leverage my time, free of charge, to help them do their job of monitoring the performance of their customer service people. I imagine saying, “You want me to rate your employees? Sure, here’s my bill.”
Nonetheless, I extend heartfelt thanks to every knowledgeable and helpful customer service rep who has ever materialized on the other side of a journey through voice-mail hell.