... and the worst in customer service

Last year someone tries to use my Amex card.

Amex notices it. Calls me. I tell them I know nothing about the charge. They overnight me a replacement card with a new number. And they alert all the vendors with whom I am automatically charged of my new number. The inconvenience to me? Zero.

As opposed to...

I notice a charge for a pair of $700 sneakers, ordered online from Saks with my employee credit card. I call Capital One who is the keeper of my Saks card. They refer me back to saks.com. 

I call saks.com. They have no record of the charge and it doesn't show up on my My Account orders. 

Now what?  I'm told to call back Cap One.

I do. 

Cap One refers me this time to their Fraud Department. I explain the problem. again. Their solution?  An immediate shut down of my online Cap One account. Now I no longer have access to it. I can't see my balance. And I can only make payments via check. I barely use checks anymore. 

"How long will it take to get a new card and resolve all this?" I ask. My employee credit card, which includes my discount, is the biggest (and only) perk of my job.

"One or two billing cycles," I'm told.

Up to 60 days!!! Could this be any more ridiculous? 

I can't access my account.

I have no usable credit card.

And, I can't pay my bill online.

How is this even remotely in the best interest of the customer?

I move up the Fraud Department's personnel ladder until I reach someone who is consumer-friendly.

I retell the story.

Explain my frustration.

She fixes everything, and within a week I receive my new card.

That's certainly better than waiting two months, but really, it shouldn't be this hard.

the best in customer service, two examples

Le Creuset

I love my flame-colored Le Creuset cast iron frying pans. I've had them for years. They are the absolute best for making steak.

Over time, the beautiful enamel has become covered in black soot. The handles are still okay, but the bottoms are burnt. I'm sure it's because I have them on a high heat. I've tried everything to clean them and nothing works.

In 2010, after years of use, I sent them in and they were replaced.

Now, 9 years later, they are a mess again. Well, only a mess aesthetically. And only on their bottoms. But still.

So I call the company. 

A very nice customer service rep tells me that I need to mail the two skillets to them (they will send a pre-paid label).  They will evaluate the two items. If they find it's a manufacturer's defect, they will replace them. Otherwise, I have the option of re-buying them at a 65% discount. Pretty fair, I think.

The rep sends me an email that in part says:

Le Creuset cast iron cookware offers a lifetime warranty guaranteeing products against defects in material and workmanship.  ... This warranty covers normal household use and does not cover damage from ... neglect, ... overheating, or other uses not in accordance with the printed instructions.

After reading this, I say to the very nice representative, "I'm sure it's not defective. Can I just skip the evaluation process and replace both my 10 1/4 inch skillet and my 9-inch skillet.

"I'm sorry, but we have a process. You will still need to send them in for evaluation."

So I do.

Two weeks later I get two emails, one for each skillet:

Thank you for your loyalty to Le Creuset. Your 9” Iron Handle Skillet (LS2024-23) has been received and is being replaced at no cost to you. Be advised your color is no longer available. .. Once a color choice is provided, we’d be more than happy to order your replacement.

Regards, 

This was not the response I was expecting, but I'm not going to argue. I happily order two new skillets in white.

Amazon Prime

I friend of mine recently said, "Amazon Prime has changed my life," and she's right. 

Sometimes I don't even both going to the local whatever to buy (for example) some hair clips. Instead, I'll go on Amazon where I have a zillion options at great prices. Why even bother leaving the house?

Today I get a bill from my Amazon Visa for $129. I haven't used this card in over two years. I have no idea what the charge is for. I assume it's fraud, and call.

Turns out that Amazon renewed my Prime membership without notifying me, and used a card I hadn't authorized.  Amex is my default card. And though my Visa is on my account (I'd forgotten about it), I never ever use it.

I call Visa first who instructs me to call Amazon. I go through three people, thirty minutes, to India and back, before getting the right department. Finally, I am told that my ViSA charge will be reversed and my AMEX card charged. Perfect.

I hang up, and then get this surprise email.

I understand that this was not what you expected to happen, and you would like the charge applied to a different credit card. We'll refund the $129.56 charged to your Visa.

Rather than apply your Amazon Prime fees to a different card, we won't charge you for this subscription period. We hope you will accept this gesture of goodwill with our sincere apologies ...


Too bad all companies can't learn from these two!

an unexpected call

I come home to a red light blinking on my landline (yes, I still have one).

"Hi Linda, this is Dan Torville." (I changed the name).

Right away I know this is someone I must have known when I was 18 or younger. I became Lyn in college.

"I'm not sure if you remember me, but we went to high school together. I need to talk to you about something. Please call me at...."

I have no idea who this person is. 

But I'm curious, and call him back.

He thanks me for returning his call, and asks if I remember him. I don't. He identifies himself by saying, "We graduated together. I'm the one who sent you flowers for graduation."

Now I feel bad. I should remember someone who sent me flowers.

He asks if I am going to the big class reunion planned for the fall. I'm not.

I assume he found me on Facebook, or LinkedIn, or maybe even through this blog. But no, he tells me. "I don't own a computer. I have someone who does things for me if I need it."

Even my soon-to-be 90 year old mother uses an iPad.

He then tells me he has no cell phone either.  "If I need a phone for anything, I buy one of the disposable ones." 

95% of Americans own a cell phone.

Unsolicited he also tells me he doesn't have cable.

We live very different lives.

I learn a few things about him. He seems like a good person.

He resides in Florida. Has had many different jobs. Has no children. Never married. "I never found anyone who loved me enough."

He's lost five of his seven friends — and his brother.

He's now taking care of his mom, who is younger than my mom, but not doing nearly as well.

He learns nothing about me.

After 20 minutes or so, I need to go.

I find my high school yearbook and look him up.

Unfortunately, I still don't remember him.