It had been 20 years been since I last drove into the back of another car. But the memories have stayed with me. So it was with a mixture of cursing and resignation that I sifted through the glove box last week trying to find a pen that still worked and a vaguely blank piece of paper.
As I swore, it wasn’t person or property on my mind. No one had been hurt and cars are fixable. Weighing most on my mind was the looming inconvenience of it all. Forms, phone calls, more forms, repairers, quotes, still more forms. It might be 20 years, but I still have a nervous reaction every time a form is put in front of me.
So it was that I exchanged details with the crashee and headed tentatively home, dreading the call I had to make to the insurance company. The call which I was sure would start me on a long and clunky journey and have me feeling like the silver ball in the old Mouse Trap game.
I got through unsettlingly quickly and couldn’t believe my hovering fingers when a person answered my call. No kidding: a real, live, living, breathing person! No menus. No options. I had to pinch myself to make sure I wasn’t just dreaming of a time 20 years ago. I almost asked for Option 3 just to reassure myself.
On explaining my situation, I was put through to a claims person who gave me his name and, remarkably, no falsely reassuring four-word job title. Right away the 20 year flashbacks ended. Rather than an officious “what right do you have to call?” type, this person had comfortingly unharried and unhurried voice.
My agent explained that the process would take about 15 minutes. Fine, I thought, not believing him for a moment. He asked me a couple of questions about what had happened and took down the details of the crashee. Then, without the slightest nod to the long traditions of bureaucracy, he booked me into a repair centre.
“Take your car in on Tuesday morning,” he said, “and we’ll send you home in a taxi. Repairs will start within 24 hours and we’ll pay for a taxi back to the repair centre when it’s done. Is there anything else I can help you with?”
Time stopped for a moment, just as it had after the accident.
“But … but … what about the forms?” I exclaimed. “And the quotes? And my second-rate attempt at drawing the crash scene?” I could sense the knowing smile as I was reassured that there was no more to do.
No more to do, that is, except to ponder real customer service. Customer service which simply made my life simple. Customer service devoid of fanfare, unfathomable language and false promises. Customer service that is, despite the claims of just about every organization I deal with, about as rare as my insurance claims.
Simple Summary
Why is really good customer service so rare? I have my theories. In large part, I suspect, it’s about loss of perspective.Too many organizations ‘commit’ to customer service and then, instead of putting effort into actually understanding their customers’ needs and meeting them, the effort goes into ‘spinning’ customer service. Hence overblown job titles, wordy customer service charters and more hollow statements of commitment than the average election campaign.
Where does your organization sit? Only your customers can truly answer that question. Perhaps you should ask them – and listen to the answers.
And by the way, in case your wondering (and they haven’t paid me to say this), I insure my car with AAMI.
© David Brewster, 2007
Print This Post
I've been work- ing in business, one way or another, for the last 20 years, and writing for the last ten. My main interest now is to get messages across - yours and mine - in a readable and approachable fashion. 
{ 1 comment… read it below or add one }
I would like to speak to someone regarding my subscription. Please be advised that I would like to discontinue delivery of Real Simple Magazine at the end of my current subscription cycle.
Thank you in advance.
Paula McGoldrick
paulam5@msn.com