Pass me my number four fowling piece
I think that the last time I lost my temper was when Johnny Bentweasle stole my smarties in primary school and I went at him with a craft knife…as it was a kiddies craft knife this had no effect but it’s the thought that counts.
I can now add another level to my totem of temper tantrums.
Following the spectacular I.T. nightmare of Friday, I arrived at the office to see three suited types in the lobby handing out leaflets. Two were young and well dressed (I smell contractors) the third had his best M&S suit on and dodgy facial hair. So basically we have two blokes who got into IT for the money and a token technical type who’s only experience of IT was probably running a paedophile web-site.
I grab the leaflet. It’s headed ‘before you log in’. I turn.
‘Are you guys from (crapcompany)?’
‘Yes.’ Smiles.
‘Bit of a nightmare on Friday wasn’t it’.
‘Yes, there were [smirk] some problems.’
Red mist.
I can’t clearly recall what I said. Somewhere in there was a remark about their MD driving a BMW and a total lack of customer care. I’m aware that they drew back from me the same way their faces fell away from their frozen smiles and that they crossed their arms.
I stopped long enough to say: ‘this is usually the point where I say it’s not personal’. Breath. ‘But it is, because the standard of service you provided was shocking and it’s your fault’
‘So how many help desk staff do you have?’
‘Six’
‘For over 1,000 people?’
‘That’s the industry standard.’
‘And is having no service, at all, industry standard too? It might be your standard, but it’s not ours. We have a tradition of excellence here. We’re not private sector and we’re motivated by profit not service. Unlike you.’
With a ‘have a nice day’ I was off, the blood thumping in my ears so loud I could hardly hear the theme from ‘Rocky’ when I thummed it into my iPod and ran up the stairs to my office to it.
Bunch of wasters.
I had hoped that they’d get it in the neck from everyone but it appears that most people just took their leaflet and said nothing, although news of my rant has circulated (oops). Obviously went for a few beers at lunchtime to recover shattered emotional frame and recounted to friends, who oooh’d and ahhh’d at the right bits before announcing that my anger was only marginally misdirected. Sod it, they had six people on the help desk, they had only four people to act as floorwalkers sorting out problems (let’s say ten minutes for every desk, times 1,000 members of staff divided by four = it’ll be Easter before we’re back to anything like normal) but they have three people handing out leaflets?
I’m told this is ‘customer after-care’. Obviously, when you fuck up as often as this company, you need more people telling staff about it than you do fixing it.
I can now add another level to my totem of temper tantrums.
Following the spectacular I.T. nightmare of Friday, I arrived at the office to see three suited types in the lobby handing out leaflets. Two were young and well dressed (I smell contractors) the third had his best M&S suit on and dodgy facial hair. So basically we have two blokes who got into IT for the money and a token technical type who’s only experience of IT was probably running a paedophile web-site.
I grab the leaflet. It’s headed ‘before you log in’. I turn.
‘Are you guys from (crapcompany)?’
‘Yes.’ Smiles.
‘Bit of a nightmare on Friday wasn’t it’.
‘Yes, there were [smirk] some problems.’
Red mist.
I can’t clearly recall what I said. Somewhere in there was a remark about their MD driving a BMW and a total lack of customer care. I’m aware that they drew back from me the same way their faces fell away from their frozen smiles and that they crossed their arms.
I stopped long enough to say: ‘this is usually the point where I say it’s not personal’. Breath. ‘But it is, because the standard of service you provided was shocking and it’s your fault’
‘So how many help desk staff do you have?’
‘Six’
‘For over 1,000 people?’
‘That’s the industry standard.’
‘And is having no service, at all, industry standard too? It might be your standard, but it’s not ours. We have a tradition of excellence here. We’re not private sector and we’re motivated by profit not service. Unlike you.’
With a ‘have a nice day’ I was off, the blood thumping in my ears so loud I could hardly hear the theme from ‘Rocky’ when I thummed it into my iPod and ran up the stairs to my office to it.
Bunch of wasters.
I had hoped that they’d get it in the neck from everyone but it appears that most people just took their leaflet and said nothing, although news of my rant has circulated (oops). Obviously went for a few beers at lunchtime to recover shattered emotional frame and recounted to friends, who oooh’d and ahhh’d at the right bits before announcing that my anger was only marginally misdirected. Sod it, they had six people on the help desk, they had only four people to act as floorwalkers sorting out problems (let’s say ten minutes for every desk, times 1,000 members of staff divided by four = it’ll be Easter before we’re back to anything like normal) but they have three people handing out leaflets?
I’m told this is ‘customer after-care’. Obviously, when you fuck up as often as this company, you need more people telling staff about it than you do fixing it.
2 Comments:
Oh dear. Who exactly do you work for? I'm curious only because you're allowed to drink at lunch.
Last night I broke my sacrifice for Lent for the third time, but I did locate possibly the best margaritas in Atlanta! It was well worth it. Oh well, Easter is just around the corner...and I was even told by a Catholic that I was in the clear once Palm Sunday hits...
PS. Have you ever seen the movie, Office Space? I suggest you see it immediately if you have no already.
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