Counter Intelligence

Tabby's Zen

The great thing about customer service is that you get to have conversations with random people instead of the five or six goons that work at the accounting firm that turned you down, with their allegedly exciting stories about a gelatin mix at the church renovation bake sale or a fascinating yarn involving fungus medicine that also cleans brass fixtures.

Perhaps that example was too specific.

The point is that you never know what you’re going to get when you stand behind a service counter. You’ve heard Forrest Gump say life is like a box of chocolates? Well, so is customer service. It’s like a box of chocolates without chocolates. You may randomly receive the Annoyed, Confused, Desperate, Urgent, Bored, Irritated, and the always delightful, but woefully underserved, Happy customer.

You are the face of the company. Some managers will even say that you are an ambassador, which is true. You have no diplomatic immunity, but you’re an ambassador.

The perfect ambassador for the job is Tabby. Her emotional detachment hasn’t affected her mental acuity, or her playfulness, and if she makes mistakes she doesn’t let it destroy her. On my best days I am Tabby.

Guiding a customer through the store’s app is its own special kind of hell for everyone involved, except the higher ups who have no idea how to use the app themselves, but will assure you that it’s as easy as pie. It is not. And if you’ve ever tried to recreate your grandma’s Dutch Apple just the way she made it, neither is pie.

Yes, I’ve joked about this with people. So have you. So has everybody. The trick is to know when to make the joke. If the customer looks like they are on the verge of a medical emergency, it’s time to only wear your deep frown of concern. The goal is to add some spice to your day, not make it worse.

I’m sorry, customer who is losing his temper, but I’ve seen this show so many times that I want to fast forward through your scene. If there is a point, or a nugget, of intel that can take this conversation in a less predictable direction, then I can’t hear it during your angry performance. When the shouting starts, I suddenly go deaf. Besides, who is motivated to solve the problem of somebody who is being mean? I’m motivated to eat some popcorn.

I’ve had this everywhere I’ve worked, including the comic strip world. I have a current reader who has announced, at least twice, that he wasn’t reading the strip any more. True, he didn’t say he was going to stop commenting on my comic, because he still is, but I’m wondering how he’s so accurate with his comments if he’s stopped reading it. People are amazing.

I’m an outlier on this one, because I think it’s ok for the customer to hang up. If you are wondering if a store is open, and they don’t have a message system that tells you they’re open, it’s ok to hang up when an employee answers the phone.

Why? It saves everyone time. You feel stupid for saying “Are you open today?” The employee feels stupid for having to say “Yes, I’m here.” Management does not feel stupid for dropping the ball with customer communication. They’re busy complaining that all of the good donuts are gone at whatever meeting they’re attending.

So just hang up after a human being picks up the phone. It’s quick, we know what’s going on, and we understand. It may be annoying, but that annoyance needs to be directed at management.

Maybe it’s just me.

Oh, happy couple who’s actually a stressed-out mess, why must you invite us into your drama? I’m functioning now, sure, but I can be entangled and yanked into a stressful drama like an unnamed sailor in a giant octopus horror movie. A free caffeinated beverage of your choice should be available after dealing with such people.

And where are the good giant octopus movies? We still don’t have our Citizen Kane of octopus tales.

When starting a new job, I would stand back and laugh at all of the drama, but eventually get passionately involved as if I was defending democracy itself. I’ve gotten better over the years.

There is something kind of sad about the customer who wants a staff member to join them on their emotional journey. I’m here so that I can go home. I’m not a stockholder. I have no five year plan for the company. I’m not preparing to address board members. My emotional stake at the day-to-day operation of this place begins and ends with my paycheck.

That’s me at my best. Zen Tabby.