“The customer’s always right.”
“The customer is king.”
“Obsess over the customer!”
These clichés seem so fundamentally obvious, they aren’t even worth discussing. Everyone understands the importance of the customer, right? Who isn’t focused on customer service these days?
Consider the following. Last week I was out for dinner with my family at Rosebud’s. The food and service were, as always, excellent. As we waited for the check, my eleven year old daughter was getting anxious – she needed a new book to read, it was getting late, and the stores would soon be closing!
My wife took her to the Barnes & Noble across the street while my son and I took care of the bill. A few minutes later, we went to find my wife and daughter. As I entered Barnes & Noble, the manager and cashier simultaneously greeted me with “We’re closing. You’ll need to leave within three minutes.”
No smile. No “Welcome to Barnes & Noble.” No “Is there something I can help you find.” Just an abrupt notice that the doors were about to close, and I was NOT to interfere with this important event.
“Don’t worry,” I replied with a smile. “I wouldn’t even come in except that I need to find my wife and daughter.” My sarcasm was met with a smile-less nod.
My son found humor in this exchange. As we rode the escalator upstairs, I shared with him the importance of customers.
“Yeah, but Dad, they ARE closing,” he said.
“Fine,” I said. “But I’d find a way to de-personalize the notice – a P.A. announcement, a sign placed at the front of the store ten minutes before closing. Something. Anything. The last thing I’d want is an employee telling a customer to his or her face to leave. Especially when it’s the very first thing they say to them!” Add to my above list of cliches: You never get a second chance to make a first impression.
At the top of the escalator was the Information Desk. The attendant spyed us as we emerged over the horizon. “We’re closing in two minutes, sir,” she said without expression.
Three employees within thirty seconds of entering the store and the sum total of our interaction was that I needed to leave. At least this last one called me ‘sir.’
“Yes,” I replied in amazement. “I’ve already been given that message – twice. Don’t worry, I intend to leave as quickly as possible.” My son now laughed aloud.
I found my wife and daughter and we headed for the exits. I refused to buy anything from the store (I’ve been told I have an over-developed sense of fairness). My wife – a softie, at least in this case – bought my daughter the book she wanted. This, of course, gave me an opportunity to provide feedback to the store manager, which I did (politely and constructively, by the way). The manager told me how much they valued customer feedback. The problem, I replied, was that it felt as though they valued my prompt departure even more.
Later that evening I read in the paper about the launch of Barnes & Noble’s new touch screen Nook – part of their strategy to move more of their business on-line. There are many reasons to shift business on-line. That night, I learned a new one: the inability to love your customers.
It’s easy to overlook clichés. It’s dangerous when those clichés pertain to the customer.