Bill McLaughlin
CEO – Select Comfort
Minneapolis, MN
Dear Bill,
I have the most wonderful bed in the world, a Select Comfort bed. It has two air chambers zipped into a padded quilted mattress cover, and attached to a pump with two controls. Each sleeper can adjust the firmness of the mattress to his own preference with just a button. We’ve had it for over 15 years.
Its only flaw is that every two or three years one of the air chambers inside the mattress starts to leak, and pretty soon it mostly deflates every night. The only thing to do is to get a new one shipped out from the company.
Because it was my side of the bed this time, I was pretty motivated to solve the problem. I went to the Select Comfort website, found their customer support contact page. It was late, outside of their call center hours, so I decided to get the process going by email. I chose my problem from their dropdown list (“Previous purchase questions”), entered my name and address and phone number and email (all required). I also entered a description of my product and my problem. Oddly enough, this was not a required field. I unchecked both the “o please send me more promotional material!” boxes and submitted the form. Immediately in my inbox was an automatic confirmation that they had indeed received my email, and would gladly get back to me within two or three days. And that if I wanted to call them, they’d take my call right away.
Rule No. 1 – Respect your customer’s mode of communication.
If you’re going to offer email customer support, it should be at the same level of service as phone support. A real response should come by the end of the next business day at the latest.
Two days later I got a nice email from the customer support specialist telling me that my name and address wasn’t in their database, and asking me if I could send any other names or addresses that might have been used. I did, and shortly received an autoresponse thanking me for my interest in their product and informing me that they would be sending out the DVD package that I had requested right away.
Rule No. 2 – Listen to what your customer says, and remember it the next time you speak.
I had already provided them with a description of my problem AND a backend database code for their use by selecting “previous purchase question” as my subject. And remember? I had also unchecked both boxes asking them to send me more promotional literature. (I’m still getting it; the DVD arrived in less than a week, and I’ve gotten follow-up postcards every three or four days so far.)
I replied that I didn’t want any DVDs, but that I did want a new single-port chamber for my dual queen size bed and inquiring how I could go about getting one, just as I had in my original email to them. I got another immediate autoresponse telling me that they had received my email and that they would gladly get back to me in two to three days.
In a couple of days another nice customer service rep gave me instructions on how to confirm that the problem was indeed in the air chamber and not in the pump, and asked me to get back in touch with them after I’d verified the problem. I was pretty sure that the problem was with the chamber, but I followed the directions and confirmed it for them by email: definitely the chamber. After getting the expected autoresponse from the customer service ‘bot (2-3 days!), I then got an email from the support staff that said that it sounded like I needed to replace the chamber, and that I should order it from Customer Service. They gave a toll-free number. They also let me know that they couldn’t find me in their database.
Rule No. 3 – Respect what your customer knows.
Not only did I already know what the problem was with the bed and what I needed, I also already knew that I wasn’t in their database, and I already knew that email responses were running at 2-3 days’ response time. A full week was wasted with this back-and-forth.
Meanwhile I’m sleeping on stacks of pillows every night because I start out with a bed full of air and by 3am it is nearly completely deflated, my butt on the slats of the bedstand. I can’t pump it up in the middle of the night because the pump makes a heinous racket to which the DH for some reason objects most obstreperously. My neck and shoulders and lower back are all killing me. And then fall rolled into Los Angeles, and I found myself at the mall, looking for sweaters. And there, across from the Build-a-Bear was a Select Comfort retail store. So I popped in, spoke with the nice man there. He listened to my story, looked me up in the database (“Yep, you’re coded as a prospect!”) and surreptitiously gave me a queen dual chamber that he had lying behind a big cardboard display. I took it home and pumped it up, but it turned out to have a leak as well.
I was at the same mall a few days later and returned it to him. He gave me another one, but while he was digging around looking for it, another customer in the store who was purchasing a bed and some accessories asked me if I liked my bed. O how I did wax prolific on the wonders of the bed. I truly love it. At least fifteen years of slumbering bliss on this bed. A testimonial, dear brethren! After this, the nice store manager gave me the chamber. I asked him, “If this one doesn’t work, can I come back here and order it from you?” No, he said, I had to order it from Customer Service.
Rule No. 4 – Empower your service workers to provide service.
There was a customer sitting at the counter while I was there, checkbook in hand, ordering a bed and accessories. We all of us there in the store know that orders can be placed through the retail store. Why can I not get the replacement item I need from the nice person I’ve now got a relationship with? Why can the email support staff not take my order?
I got the second replacement chamber home, and it leaked even worse than the first one. I’m not too upset, because I didn’t pay for either of them. I girded my loins, picked up the phone, and called Customer Service’s toll-free number.
It was busy.
I called again. I got a recording that said, basically, that they were too busy to take my call, and I should call back later. Click.
I called three more times and it was busy.
The fourth time I got put into the queue, after selecting the most likely-sounding option from the voice menu. After about 10 minutes I was connected with a lady who asked me briskly for the name on my account. I gave her my name.
“I can’t find you in my database. What’s the phone number that might be on the account?” I gave her that.
“I can’t find you in my database.” I tell her what I want to do, to buy a replacement chamber. She begins to go through what I recognize as the troubleshooting script, the one I have already been through with the email folks. I stop her and start to say that I’ve already identified my problem, and that I just want to order the replacement chamber.
“I’m trying to solve your problem!”
“You haven’t even asked me what my problem is yet.”
Rule No. 5 – The customer’s problem is the one that needs solving.
So far my primary topic of conversation with these people, across ALL their modes of communication, has been about their database. Now I didn’t call them up because I’m not in their database. I’ve got a bed that deflates every night. I just want my good nights’ sleep back. I called them up because I need a single port dual queen replacement chamber, stat.
I tell her that I’ve followed directions given by the email team and have confirmed that I need a new air chamber. “Well you can’t buy that from me!” She says she’s going to put me in the database and then connect me with the right department. I give her all my information (again) and she enters it all into the database, and she gives me a customer number (2275984) that I can give to the next rep so she can pull up my record. And then she transfers me.
After a few minutes on hold I am connected to a new person who promptly barks, “Name on the account?” I give her my name and, she says, “I can’t find you in my database.” At this point my weasel is pretty steamed. I tell her that I have just gone through this exercise with the previous rep, and that she had put me into the database. “She even gave me a customer number so you could find me.” She asks for it, and I give it to her. She tells me, “I can’t find that in my database. You’re not in our database. What did she use to give it to you?”
“Her voice,” I said. “And I wrote it down with a pencil on paper.”
Rule No. 6 – Don’t ask the customer for any of your internal codes or identifiers.
How are the customers supposed to know which of your internal systems were in use? At this point I’m pretty sure that I am in all of their databases and that customer number 2275984 is CSR-speak for “Give this customer some serious hell!”
She begins the troubleshooting script. I stop her. “I’ve already done that.” After a fair amount of wrangling I force her to take my order NOW for a non-returnable $200 item. I ask for the name of the VP of Customer Service and she gives me the name and mailing address of the CEO.
And since it had been such a <sarcasm> pleasant </s> experience overall, I replied to the last email that I had finally managed to order the replacement chamber from customer service, and that I’d be grateful if they could let their VP know that he could expect me to pitch him soon for some business process redesign work. A few days later I got this response:
My replacement chamber did finally come, and it has worked very well. I still love my bed, and I’m sleeping great again. But I am afraid that any recommendation I make for Select Comfort’s product in the future will have to be tempered by serious reservations about their service. And in the 21
st century, is there any difference between the two?
Rule No. 7 – Customer service is the product too.
Give us a call, Bill. We can help.
Sogni d'oro,
Lynn
FatDUX Los Angeles
Wednesday
FatDUX needed a book – fast. Amazon US had it, Amazon UK didn’t. So, we ordered from the American .com site and paid a fortune for two-day, international courier delivery. This was last Wednesday.
Friday
Friday comes and goes. No word. No tracking number. No joy in Mudville.
Saturday
Saturday, a disturbingly thick envelope arrives via snail-mail from UPS. Tanya Neerskov from UPS Danmark A/S has determined that FatDUX Copenhagen ApS (an officially registered company in the Kingdom of Denmark, with a completely legitimate tax number), is not registered as an “import organization.” Er…well…no. We design websites and such.
The thick envelope contains masses of paperwork that will need to be filed before we can receive our book (to be sent via snail-mail - "changes will be effected within 14 days"). According to Tanja, FatDUX Copenhagen must be re-categorized as an "officially registered importer of goods from outside the EU.”
There is a telephone number I can call for assistance. I call Saturday morning (about five minutes after the letter arrives). A recording tells me that if I really am desperate (I am) I can call another number (I do). The second number also tells me that I am out of luck until Monday at 8:30 AM.
Sunday
Sunday, I write the client report that might possibly have benefited from the knowledge purported to be in the book we ordered from Amazon.
Monday, 08:32
I call UPS. Unfortunately, Tanja is out sick that day. But Charlotte is very helpful. She explains that we need to pay sales tax on the book (normally, we do this at the post office and it takes no time at all). But because UPS has set these strange procedures in motion, we must now go to our “local tax office.” (Jeez, the total charge is only about USD 12) Good news: if we pay this today, UPS will send the book the very next day (Tuesday).
Charlotte explains that Tanja certainly must have called our office to determine the best way to expedite this package (she didn’t – I questioned everyone at FatDUX who was near a telephone on Friday when the book arrived at the UPS terminal). Also, Charlotte reminded me that we really should re-register our company so that we can avoid these problems in the future (er…I paid more for shipping than for the book and suddenly the delays are my fault???)
Next task - finding out where the local tax office is - we've never had cause to visit them. It turns out, the "local" tax office is about as far from our offices as two locations can be within the confines of Copenhagen County. But WTF…
Monday 12:16
Just after noon, I've now fought my way across town, arrived at my “local” tax office, and paid my sales tax (12 damned dollars). The genuinely charming woman behind the counter at the tax office explains that she must now fax (yes, fax) a note to the customs officials that the sales tax has been paid. “They go past the fax regularly. Your book will be released from customs very soon.”
Monday 13:55
I call UPS to hear the status. I am transferred to the sales department. But they need a shipping number, which I don’t have – only my customs number. No. They cannot transfer the call. No. Their system cannot access customs-clearance numbers. No. This is just not the right number for any help whatsoever.
Monday 14.01
I call UPS again and am transferred to the customs department. I get the proper freight number. No, they cannot transfer me to the sales department. No. They cannot expedite the package. No. This is just not the right number for any help whatsoever.
Monday 14:05
I call UPS again (the operator now recognizes my voice). The sales department checks my freight number. No. The package has not cleared customs. Sorry, nothing they can do about this. I will need to take this up with the customs department.
Monday 14:07
I call UPS (the operator and I chat about bureaucracy and the limitations of modern technology). The customs department asks me to fax my tax receipts to them. After some negotiation, we agree that a scan sent as an e-mail attachment is also a viable legal instrument. At any rate, UPS promises to send a reminder to the Danish customs authorities.
Monday 14:11
We scan all our documentation and send it to the e-mail address provided by our new friend at UPS, Hinna Somia. She (and the operator) are the first sensible people we’ve encountered at UPS.
Monday 14:13
Hinna forwards our mail to Kim Andersen at the tax office.
Monday 17:25:36 +0200
Kim Andersen announces that our book has cleared customs. Clearly, it took Kim from three to five hours to take care of this major task.
Tuesday (all bloody day)
We wait. No book. No e-mails. No nothing.
Wednesday 08:31
I call UPS. Message? The book went on the truck at 06:47 this morning “This is an express package, so it’s getting special priority”.
And I’m silently cursing, “don’t pee on my boots and tell me it’s raining…” Define "express" please...and "priority" too.
I then ask, “Why didn’t the book go out yesterday as you had promised?”
“Promised? Who promised? UPS can't make promises. We cannot be held accountable for unforseen delays. Besides, your company isn’t registered properly. And even after it cleared customs, we had to wait for an inspector to come by and approve the package.”
"Er...someone from the tax office came by to inspect the package? Yesterday," I ask, slightly astonished.
"Yes," came the cocky, self-confident reply.
"Why? I'd expect an inspection to take place BEFORE I paid import duties and tax.
"Don't tell us how to do our job!" The UPS phone didn't slam down, but it came damned close...
"Hello??" I asked...but the line was dead.
Wednesday 10:54
The book arrives. The package is unopened. Not sure what any "inspection" might have consisted of...
Aftermath
Gosh, I’ve been receiving books in my company’s name for almost a decade. No problem – the customs people ask me to pay sales tax or import duties and I do. Simple – I do this at the post office when I pick up my package and it takes no time at all. And no one has ever asked my to reregister my company! Why should the procedures for importing a book be so much more difficult when a courier service is involved?
Honestly UPS, how could you possible waste so many people’s time? My goodness, the Kingdom of Denmark has actually lost money on this deal. My tax was DKK 79.70 or about USD 12. But if you work out the salaries for everyone involved it must be at least 10 times this amount). And UPS, why did you lie and say you had “agreed on procedure with my office” when you never called? And I strongly suspect you of lying again when you tell me that a package needs to be inspected
after it has been released from customs.
Most importantly, how can you, dear UPS, rationalize delaying a priority shipment for five days after its arrival? What authority have you given Tanja Neerskov have that she has the audacity to tell me my company is improperly registered? (Tanja and Charlotte are what we used to call "skrankepaver" in Danish.
And Amazon.com. Are you aware that I will NEVER EVER EVER use this service again?
I’ve used Eurocard (the European equivalent of MasterCard) for about 20 years. That's why we also chose Eurocard for the FatDUX corporate cards. My particular card was set to expire sometime in 2010. So I was surprised when I got a new card in the mail with a nice cover letter already in April 2009:
“Here’s your new Eurocard Corporate Gold”
“New card, new name, same code…”
The letter went on to tell me that now that they had added the word “Corporate” that it would be easier for me to distinguish this particular card from the others in my wallet – not really a problem as far as I was concerned. Buried among the other services that were promoted (none of which were new), the letter discreetly suggested that I contact any companies that had my card number on file and let them know that it had changed.
Yikes. I could barely remember all of the places this particular card is registered. Why couldn’t they simply let the card expire normally? Was there a security issue? I could understand that. Or an improvement to the built-in chip? Who knows?
Bother disguised as improvement
I asked the company. After all, there was basically no advantage, just a lot of bother to me.
Janni Hansen of Eurocard Customer Service wrote back to tell me: “We had to make new cardnumbers on all Eurocard Gold Corporate cards, because of ‘Corporate’ had to be on the front of the card.”
No word as to
why “Corporate” had to be on the front of the card. Or
why the company had to issue new card numbers, etc. You'd think that if they could retain the PIN, they could also retain the card number.
And then the fun started…
Having missed the really fine print that explained the old card was soon to be cancelled, I unexpectedly found myself barred from the Copenhagen Airport Business Lounge.
Our electronic pass that automatically paid the toll-bridge to Sweden no longer worked.
Basecamp wrote a nasty letter:
“This is your first failed credit card transaction. You have 6 more days to update your credit card information before your account is frozen.”
I’ve since talked to a dozen different business entities. And I keep finding new places where our card number no longer works – from Amazon to Avis. Honestly, Eurocard, I’m so irritated this may well mark the end of a long and profitable relationship for you guys.
As I generally say when people disguise inconvenience as better service, “Don’t pee on my boots and tell me it’s raining.”
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Our friends, Thomas and Jane, sent us a Christmas card on December 19. It arrived today, February 2.
The address was absolutely correct. So was the postage. Why did this letter take six weeks to cover a fairly short distance? Who knows? - it just plunked into our mailbox unannounced.
Six weeks to make a journey of 30km!
The Danish postal authorities have been under press for years - first because of the fax, now because of e-mail. The short and the long of it: people send fewer letters. Not surprisingly, there's been talk that the Danish postal service will be bought up by a larger organization - the German postal authorities, for example.
In the meantime, here in Copenhagen, we now have TWO postal services: the official Danish government sanctioned service and CityMail, a private carrier.
So how are the Danes reacting to decreased traffic and increased competition? By reducing the number of folks manning the counters in post offices, by installing centralized automatic package dispensers so the carriers don't need to actually deliver stuff to individual addresses, by raising the postal rates - and, seemingly, by distributing second-class mail (Economique) at their leisure.
What a way to run a business...
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