I've decided to separate some of my posts from my other blog into this one, which will be specifically designed to post about customer service experiences, both good and bad, online and off, in person or on the phone.
In the coming days and weeks, I'll be transferring some content from the other place. Please stay on the line and my posts will be posted in the order in which they were received.
Saturday, November 18, 2006
Wednesday, April 26, 2006
Will The Circle Be Unbroken?
After having sent back at least one of the Consumer Reports invoices clearly marked "CANCEL" as per their instructions, I received two further invoices. One would have been understandable, but obviously they didn't get the message, so I figured I'd deal with it tonight while working on the rest of my bills. I would have just marked up the invoice again, but why should I invest my hard-earned thirty-nine cents on a stamp? Since I knew their website was useless for actually getting anything done, I figured I'd call. Of course the number is not listed anywhere on the invoice, that would make too much sense. So I went back to the website and finally found the number to call.
Dialed the number and immediately got quality of service recording disclaimer, a thank you for calling message* and a preface to the routing menu. But before actually getting the menu, the nice lady tells me "you may also process customer service related inquiries at our website, just go to ...." Did they change something?
Whatever, I'd already called, it was easy enough to press 3 and continue. I told the rep who answered that I'd attempted to cancel, kept getting invoices. She said she'd take care of it. And then proceeded to try to cross-sell me a subscription to some Consumer Reports Newsletter! I'd love to meet the marketing genius who came up with that plan. Dude, I'm calling to cancel my subscription, why would you think it's a good idea to ask me to subscribe to something else?
After hanging up in stunned disbelief, I figured I'd double-check that claim of being able to use the website. I typed in exactly the URL that had been given me and, depsite the horrid interface, somehow managed once again to find the links about the magazine (as opposed to the "CR.org website) and clicked on the link about cancelling a subscription.
So just to re-iterate, you can go to the website to find the phone number, then call the number and hear that you can process your request on the website, which tells you to call the phone number, ....
Hey, thanks guys, but The Amazing Race comes on in less than an hour, so I gotta go.
* Why do corporations say "thank you" at the start of a call? Thank you is most commonly used in American English at the end of a transaction.
Dialed the number and immediately got quality of service recording disclaimer, a thank you for calling message* and a preface to the routing menu. But before actually getting the menu, the nice lady tells me "you may also process customer service related inquiries at our website, just go to ...." Did they change something?
Whatever, I'd already called, it was easy enough to press 3 and continue. I told the rep who answered that I'd attempted to cancel, kept getting invoices. She said she'd take care of it. And then proceeded to try to cross-sell me a subscription to some Consumer Reports Newsletter! I'd love to meet the marketing genius who came up with that plan. Dude, I'm calling to cancel my subscription, why would you think it's a good idea to ask me to subscribe to something else?
After hanging up in stunned disbelief, I figured I'd double-check that claim of being able to use the website. I typed in exactly the URL that had been given me and, depsite the horrid interface, somehow managed once again to find the links about the magazine (as opposed to the "CR.org website) and clicked on the link about cancelling a subscription.
We are sorry to lose you as a subscriber. To cancel your subscription, you may call our Subscription Department at 1-800-XXX-XXXX and a representative will gladly assist you.
So just to re-iterate, you can go to the website to find the phone number, then call the number and hear that you can process your request on the website, which tells you to call the phone number, ....
Hey, thanks guys, but The Amazing Race comes on in less than an hour, so I gotta go.
* Why do corporations say "thank you" at the start of a call? Thank you is most commonly used in American English at the end of a transaction.
Thursday, February 16, 2006
Follow-Ups
Hertz
They did the old "just throw money" trick. Except it's not really money, it's vouchers, which of course one can't use without renting from them again. To be completely fair, somebody did finally call me, and after going through the whole boring story again, it just seems all so futile. Nothing is going to change in their Atlanta office. They'll just tappy tap tap their way through annoying some other poor traveller on some other day.Oh, and it turns out that when you use a discount voucher of any kind, they don't give you frequent flyer points. Not sure where that's spelled out, but I'm sure they don't go out of their way to make it obvious.
Consumer Reports
I'm still floored by the incredibly bad "customer service" from this organization. I never got a response to my first web-submitted questions about the subscription. I did, within the course of four days, receive both the January and February issues of the magazine. As of this past Monday, I still had not received the promised books, so I sat down and fumbled my way through their website and submitted another comment/complaint/whatever. I even specifically requested a response.The books showed up on Tuesday, so at least they've finally fulfilled their obligation. I sat down last night to go to their website and cancel the subscription; clicked on the link that said "Cancel My Subscription" and what do I get? A message telling me to call some 800 number to cancel.
Dear Consumer Reports -- do you even know WTF a website is for? Jeepers.
I wrote CANCEL all over the invoice today and I'll be putting it in the mail "real soon."
Morons.
Thursday, January 26, 2006
Who Can You Trust
Last month, I received a solicitation from Consumer Reports magazine. I thought it might be a good reference for my re-purposed blog, so I went ahead and sent in the reply card. I'm supposed to get several items for "free," including a 2006 Buyer's Guide, some other book, and a "current monthly issue". Yesterday an issue of the magazine arrived, along with an invoice.
When I sat down to read the magazine last night, I was surprised to see that it was not a current monthly issue at all, but some hokey "best of" collection that they apparently send to new subscribers. Now I'm willing to give them the benefit of the doubt, but that's not what they promised, and I didn't receive anything else today.
On the back cover of this pretend issue, they encourage one to go to their website to pay for the new subscription. That's not a bad idea, and since they have a website, I figured I'd try to find a way to ask them if this pretend issue was supposed to be the promised monthly issue. In order to get to the customer service section of their site, I was supposed to enter the account number from my address label. Of course, my label looks nothing like the sample they display, and the numbers I'm supposed to read are printed in what appears to be a four point font. Hey, I freely admit to needing reading glasses, but these numbers are hard to read even once I throw on the spectacles.
Anyway, I guess I used the right number, because I got past that little puzzle. Hoever, I did get redirected to another website completely -- "buysub.com". I'd have expected a message telling me "you are now leaving the Consumer Reports website, etc etc etc." Ironic, because in the pretend issue, there's an article about identity theft; surely unexpected redirects are something to be wary of. I didn't actually notice that the first time through though.
Once I was logged on, I clicked on the link that says "How can I contact Consumer Reports about my magazine subscription (i.e., billing inquiry, etc.)?" only to find that there is no way to email them! Yes, it's 2006 and this supposedly consumer friendly organization wants me to either use postal mail -- which they discourage for subscription payments, saying it will "save time and money and help the environment." Or I can try to call them, of course "[a]t times of heavy call volume, you may experience a delay."
So I figured I'd poke around this website a little more. First of all, I discovered that there is evidently a Consumer Reports website containing product reports and ratings and such, but it is a separate subscription -- and it's a lot more than the cost of the magazine. Then I clicked on the link to learn about their privacy policy. Surely an organization like Consumer's Union would keep my information completely private, right? Nope: "We exchange or rent for one time use our subscriber list with those of selected publications and nonprofit organizations. If you wish for your name to be deleted from these exchanges, send your address label with a request for a deletion to:" Again with the postal mail? I guess saving time and money and helping the environment isn't really that big a concern up there in Yonkers.
A little more poking around, and I did find a way to send them a message using a web form. It's well hidden, and after selecting the subject from a drop-down list, I was still encouraged to use another method of contact.
I'm really surprised, but I'm glad I went ahead and did this little bit of research. I'll save my money by not supporting this particular organization. And hey, maybe that free buying guide will show up and help me save some money on other purchases this year.
When I sat down to read the magazine last night, I was surprised to see that it was not a current monthly issue at all, but some hokey "best of" collection that they apparently send to new subscribers. Now I'm willing to give them the benefit of the doubt, but that's not what they promised, and I didn't receive anything else today.
On the back cover of this pretend issue, they encourage one to go to their website to pay for the new subscription. That's not a bad idea, and since they have a website, I figured I'd try to find a way to ask them if this pretend issue was supposed to be the promised monthly issue. In order to get to the customer service section of their site, I was supposed to enter the account number from my address label. Of course, my label looks nothing like the sample they display, and the numbers I'm supposed to read are printed in what appears to be a four point font. Hey, I freely admit to needing reading glasses, but these numbers are hard to read even once I throw on the spectacles.
Anyway, I guess I used the right number, because I got past that little puzzle. Hoever, I did get redirected to another website completely -- "buysub.com". I'd have expected a message telling me "you are now leaving the Consumer Reports website, etc etc etc." Ironic, because in the pretend issue, there's an article about identity theft; surely unexpected redirects are something to be wary of. I didn't actually notice that the first time through though.
Once I was logged on, I clicked on the link that says "How can I contact Consumer Reports about my magazine subscription (i.e., billing inquiry, etc.)?" only to find that there is no way to email them! Yes, it's 2006 and this supposedly consumer friendly organization wants me to either use postal mail -- which they discourage for subscription payments, saying it will "save time and money and help the environment." Or I can try to call them, of course "[a]t times of heavy call volume, you may experience a delay."
So I figured I'd poke around this website a little more. First of all, I discovered that there is evidently a Consumer Reports website containing product reports and ratings and such, but it is a separate subscription -- and it's a lot more than the cost of the magazine. Then I clicked on the link to learn about their privacy policy. Surely an organization like Consumer's Union would keep my information completely private, right? Nope: "We exchange or rent for one time use our subscriber list with those of selected publications and nonprofit organizations. If you wish for your name to be deleted from these exchanges, send your address label with a request for a deletion to:" Again with the postal mail? I guess saving time and money and helping the environment isn't really that big a concern up there in Yonkers.
A little more poking around, and I did find a way to send them a message using a web form. It's well hidden, and after selecting the subject from a drop-down list, I was still encouraged to use another method of contact.
I'm really surprised, but I'm glad I went ahead and did this little bit of research. I'll save my money by not supporting this particular organization. And hey, maybe that free buying guide will show up and help me save some money on other purchases this year.
Monday, January 2, 2006
Hertz hits me hard with their Gold #1 Club.
I knew that having a credit voucher to apply to my rental would mean that I couldn't get the full #1 Club Gold experience. And I probably should have known that shenanigans would ensue when the woman that I called at the reservations center told me that there wasn't a "Gold Canopy" at the Atlanta airport. But I wasn't prepared for the really horrible time I had just trying to get into a car and on the road ...
I'd been told that I should go to the counter near the baggage claim to turn in my $50 voucher. This was, of course, wrong. I had to get on the bus and go to the Gold counter, within the Hertz complex. OK, no biggie. So I hopped on the shuttle, took the ride and headed in to the counter. I handed the guy my certificate and waited while he tappy tap tapped on his computer. After a while, he asked if I wanted a full-size, an Impala, for no extra charge. Sure, why not? I figured I'd be driving my friends around a bit over the weekend, so a little extra room would be OK. He tappy tap tapped some more and finally told me that my car was in stall 100. He repeated himself several times. I headed out of the office toward stall 100, and he ran after me, having forgotten to take down a number he needed from my rental agreement and told me once again, stall 100.
So I found stall 100, put my luggage in the trunk, played around a bit with the navigation system (which I figured was just an added bonus) and headed for the exit. The guard there looked at my paperwork, then looked at the car, then looked at the paperwork, then at the car . . . "this isn't the right car. It's supposed to be an Impala." OK, so I'm not really a car guy, and my flight had been delayed, making me anxious to just get on the road, so I didn't even notice that, indeed, I was in some sort of Toyota.
Back to stall 100, and then back into the office. Had to wait in line a bit, but when I got up there, I told the guy what the problem was. He didn't seem to believe me at first, but I assured him that they'd turned me back at the exit. Tappy tap tap tap. "How about a mid-size SUV?" No, how about just giving me the right paperwork for the car I still had my luggage in? Tap tap tappity tap. "How about a Grand Prix?" OK, fine, just get me out of here! He mumbled some other three digit number, beginning with a 6, then said "I'll have somebody bring that around for you." OK, good enough. I had to get my bags anyway. So one more visit to good ol' stall 100, and then to the other side of the office to wait for my car. And wait. And wait. About ten minutes. Finally a guy pulls up, gets out and says "six blah-de-blah?" Ummm, sure. It was a Grand Prix at least. I checked the tag number on my rental agreement with the tag number on the car. It matched. So in with the bags and off I went.
It took me nearly an hour to get this wonderful "#1 Club Gold" treatment.
I turned in the car a couple hours ago, and now I'm sitting in the airport (more flight delays), and I just took a look at my receipt from when I turned in the car. They have so many taxes and fees, it's ridiculous -- my basic rate was just over $25/day, I was here for four days, and even with the voucher applied, my total was $130! WTF?
I'd been told that I should go to the counter near the baggage claim to turn in my $50 voucher. This was, of course, wrong. I had to get on the bus and go to the Gold counter, within the Hertz complex. OK, no biggie. So I hopped on the shuttle, took the ride and headed in to the counter. I handed the guy my certificate and waited while he tappy tap tapped on his computer. After a while, he asked if I wanted a full-size, an Impala, for no extra charge. Sure, why not? I figured I'd be driving my friends around a bit over the weekend, so a little extra room would be OK. He tappy tap tapped some more and finally told me that my car was in stall 100. He repeated himself several times. I headed out of the office toward stall 100, and he ran after me, having forgotten to take down a number he needed from my rental agreement and told me once again, stall 100.
So I found stall 100, put my luggage in the trunk, played around a bit with the navigation system (which I figured was just an added bonus) and headed for the exit. The guard there looked at my paperwork, then looked at the car, then looked at the paperwork, then at the car . . . "this isn't the right car. It's supposed to be an Impala." OK, so I'm not really a car guy, and my flight had been delayed, making me anxious to just get on the road, so I didn't even notice that, indeed, I was in some sort of Toyota.
Back to stall 100, and then back into the office. Had to wait in line a bit, but when I got up there, I told the guy what the problem was. He didn't seem to believe me at first, but I assured him that they'd turned me back at the exit. Tappy tap tap tap. "How about a mid-size SUV?" No, how about just giving me the right paperwork for the car I still had my luggage in? Tap tap tappity tap. "How about a Grand Prix?" OK, fine, just get me out of here! He mumbled some other three digit number, beginning with a 6, then said "I'll have somebody bring that around for you." OK, good enough. I had to get my bags anyway. So one more visit to good ol' stall 100, and then to the other side of the office to wait for my car. And wait. And wait. About ten minutes. Finally a guy pulls up, gets out and says "six blah-de-blah?" Ummm, sure. It was a Grand Prix at least. I checked the tag number on my rental agreement with the tag number on the car. It matched. So in with the bags and off I went.
It took me nearly an hour to get this wonderful "#1 Club Gold" treatment.
I turned in the car a couple hours ago, and now I'm sitting in the airport (more flight delays), and I just took a look at my receipt from when I turned in the car. They have so many taxes and fees, it's ridiculous -- my basic rate was just over $25/day, I was here for four days, and even with the voucher applied, my total was $130! WTF?
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