I wasn’t born expecting high standards, in fact I was brought into a childhood where compromising my standards was considered the best possible avenue for me. So I don’t quite understand why I am now a stickler for excellent customer service, poor service is the very devil that eats at me.
Recently we had a house full of unwanted guests. Fleas. Tiny little black creatures that nip and bite at ankles and lower limbs and leave a trail of nasty red dots that required frequent scratching. I had legs with claw mark scars that attracted comments from strangers in coffee shops. My husband was away and it was the weekend, a hot and muggy Sydney hint of summer. I decided to pack up the kids and head to a city hotel with a rooftop swimming pool and escape the nasty devils in my house, but only after placing masses amounts of flea bombs in every room.
Checking into the hotel should have given me a warning of what I could expect, even after reading back to me my Sydney home address the desk clerk asked if this was my first time to Sydney. No, I live here. I was born here and apart from small sojourns to exotic lands, I have spent most of my life here. She handed me my swipe cards and went on to explain the charges on my credit card, the cost of the room and another $50 towards any incidentals, but that this would not be charged unless after checking out they discovered I had emptied the mini bar of snickers snacks and mini contreau bottles.
She then handed me a map of my city and reminded me to let her know if I needed directions or ideas for going out in Sydney.
The hotel room was heaven and the kids absolutely loved the novelty of spending a Sunday night in flee-free luxury. We swam all afternoon in a pool overlooking Hyde Park and I made a promise to myself that one day I would live like this forever, possibly in New York overlooking Central Park.
We checked out the following morning with a $12 charge for our snacks and then it was only a short stroll for me to my office in Paddington and a quick bus ride for the boys to school in the inner city.
A week later I noticed on my online bank statement that the $50 incident charge had been charged to my credit card so I called the hotel chain main number. After being passed around several customer service people (or customer non-service people as I call them), I eventually got a lady who spoke little English in blunt and abrupt tones. “What can I do for you today” was replaced with “What do you want” - so I explained my situation and the card charges and asked when it would be refunded. Hmmmmmmmm... it took me a few times to explain it, I even offered to put my request in writing and email it to her after going through it three more times. All for $50. If I had charged my time out to the hotel it would have exceeded the hotel room rate but for me it was the principal that mattered. And I wanted my money back.
The woman told me I was advised during check in what the money was for, and that it wasnt actually in the hotels bank account but in a holding account until it was proven that I didn’t drink the mini bar dry. Explaining to her that it took less than three seconds to charge my card but over a week to check the fridge and refund it was lost on her. She eventually got agitated and told me “It was only $50”.
The sheer arrogance of someone devaluing my money like that was shocking. It may have only seemed like $50 to her, but to me that represented the hours I had to work to pay my bills and then have this disposable amount left over at the end. In all likelihood it was probably more than her hourly rate. And yet she felt righteous enough to make a comment that it is only $50.
The money was deposited the next day.
What would I have done in that situation if I were the call centre girl with a less-than-satisfied customer on the line?
To start with, I would have acknowledged her concern and expressed empathy for her. $50 is a lot of money to most people and in some cases it may be the difference between feeding a family that night or going without.
I would have explained the hotel policy of charging the card and asked if this was explained to the her on check in. I then would have offered to look into it for her and asked if she wanted to hold or would prefer a call back. Choice is King. As is communication.
The money was in my account the following day and after my experience with the customer service woman, I have to ask if this was the result of my call.
I doubt I will be staying at the Marriott again - despite the lovely room and rooftop swimming pool, the customer service on chasing my money was a real let down.
No comments:
Post a Comment