Customer service. The term implies a soft-spoken, clean-cut Babbitt man from the Eisenhower era, a teetotaler who votes Republican but never discusses politics, who calls you "sir" and "ma'am" and exudes an ineluctable folksy charisma, a guy who probably spends his Thursday evenings at the bingo parlor and who will pomade his hair well into his autumn years. A man prepared to listen to the customer's needs, who might have attended a Dale Carnegie course, perhaps donning a daring fashion accouterment like a bowtie. Chances are his name is Harold or Orville.
"Dork" is probably the word here, but in a good way. I remember guys like this growing up. You could find them sitting in an appliance store or sometimes knocking on your door. They knew their products. They had a quiet and unobtrusive way of making a sale and finding out what you wanted. They were adamant, but never pushy. They offered to undersell the competition. They worked hard, but they walked with a relaxed gait.
Not in the 21st century. It was bad enough when resolving consumer-oriented disputes involved talking with a
When presented with a voice-activated customer service automated branching system, I generally recite the first lines of "Jabberwocky." Lewis Carroll's nonsense poem still stands the test of time, fooling not only the human ear, but the crude computerized
Forget those voicemail trees that refuse to respond to random touchtone buttons (so that you can get through to a human operator who can, ahem, assist you after the , let alone
Posted by DrMabuse at May 4, 2004 04:10 PM | TrackBackThanks for that insightful comment! It makes interesting reading, especially when I need a payday advance .
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