no, but I'm an American citizen. i'm supposed to get whatever i ask for.

[fox]

Honestly, some days it really does feel like that's how we all operate. There have even been times when people have been describing to me some thing or other that they can't find in any store, and they wonder if they'll be able to order it online -- to which I've said, with almost no irony, "Listen, you're a US citizen with internet access. You can have anything you want." And the thing that inspires liberal guilt is, that's almost always true.

But this isn't a post about liberal guilt (mostly). This is a post about customer service, and how the knowledge that the system is workable is very nearly all it takes to work the system.

Background: I have a checking account with no minimum balance and no monthly maintenance fee, provided that there is a direct deposit to the account at least once a month. No problem. When I opened the account last summer, my first three weekly paychecks from the temp agency came in actual checks; I was expecting the first one to be that way, but not the second, so I called the bank to see if I could avoid the monthly fee for the first month since technically the first direct deposit wasn't going to arrive until the second month. They said no, it's no problem, new accounts have a two-month grace period because we know it takes time for DDs to get set up.

Great! Terrific. And now I've got this new job, where I'm getting paid biweekly instead of weekly, and there is absolutely no chance of having a direct deposit in the month of January -- probably not in February either. And I've been meaning to call the bank and wheedle about that, and today I finally did. The following conversation ensued:

CS dude: How can I help you?
me: This is what I'm hoping you'll be able to do for me.
CS1: Unfortunately, I can't do that.
me: Really? Because it's not open-ended, I'm just saying this month and maybe next month, it's an administrative delay that I have no control over.
CS1: I understand, but I'm afraid it's not possible.
me: Okay. I believe you, but is there a supervisor I can speak to? --
CS1: For a second opinion?
me: More or less. Just, I get what you're saying, but there must be someone who can do this thing, just, who has more access than you do.
CS1: No problem. Please hold.
supervisor: How can I help you?
me: This is what I'm hoping you'll be able to do for me.
supervisor: Well, normally we wouldn't be able to do that, because when the account was opened we already gave you that two-month grace period, but in this case we can put in fee waivers for January and February, but not March, so if there's no direct deposit in March, you would be charged that monthly maintenance fee.
me: Listen, if the direct deposit still isn't going through by March, it's payroll I'm going to be on the phone with, and not you. Thanks so much!
supervisor: Thank you, Ms. Fox. We appreciate your business.

And there it is, really. It costs them nothing -- okay, it costs them twelve bucks, which to them is the same thing -- to do this for me. And if they really wouldn't do it, I might well have gone elsewhere. (Of course, it would cost them very little to lose me, is the other side of that. Me and my three-figure bank balance. But, you know, side issues.) I'm glad I called when I was in a good mood, so I could have the whole conversation in my sweet-and-cheerful mode; even when I asked for the supervisor, it wasn't out of frustration. It was just the next person to talk to.

But I never would have made the call in the first place, I suspect, if I didn't have an American's sense of being entitled. [ponder]

Comments

[bethbethbeth.livejournal.com]

Might I suggest that this is more a class issue than anything else? I worked for a private investment house in the early eighties, and believe me when I tell you that the people I dealt with (from Brazil, Italy, Japan, England, wherever) were not short on their supplies of entitlement.

The poor, illiterate Americans I worked with when I taught in an Adult Literacy program, however...well, you know?

[darthfox.livejournal.com]

It might be, but see "three-figure bank balance". I know that's three more figures than a lot of people (most people in the world!) have; but I'm going to guess that people whose investments live in private investment houses have far more to get snooty about than I do, and that they get snootier than I did, to boot.

[bethbethbeth.livejournal.com]

No, I get that. But the fact that you're not illiterate and poverty stricken helps put you in a category of people with senses of entitlement. I mean, I'm broke and I'm in that same category.

[darthfox.livejournal.com]

I see your point; and I think literacy and education probably have more to do with it than poverty level. (To the extent poverty is independent of literacy and education, of course, which is a Whole Other Thing.) But compare yourself, or me, to a British citizen of equivalent education and standard of living. (Not, in other words, one of your rich investors mentioned above.) I don't think it would even have occurred to that hypothetical person to ask to have the monthly fee waived, much less to ask (which, if the first CS person had been snippy, would have graduated to 'insist') to speak to a higher-ranking person when the initial answer was no. (Of course, these are people who were surprised by my boldness when I handed a dish back to a waiter, pointing out that what he'd brought me was in no way what I'd ordered.)

[bethbethbeth.livejournal.com]

Okay, you know...you're right. When I was living in England, I was scheduled for (fairly minor) surgery. Speaking with the surgeon the day before the procedure, he said "I suppose because you're American, you'd like to know what might go wrong." "Well, yes," I replied. "Doesn't everybody?" "Actually, no," he said. "My English patients tend to just hope for the best."

*g*

[bethbethbeth.livejournal.com]

(and yes, there's a dangling participle in there, so apparently I'm not actually completely literate *g*)

[the-star-fish.livejournal.com]

The other side of that, of course, is being the poor schmoe who knows that really, there's nothing he/she/the company can do, but still having to find polite ways to reiterate it. Much of my workday is spent like that. (No, we don't have a resale department. I'm very sorry you no longer want your timeshare. But we don't have a resale department. No, really. We don't. I swear.)