Kevin Brennan Writes About What It's Like

Open letter to corporate customer service divisions


Pet peeve time. Why not? Nothing else is going on.

Listen up, Big Box Super Corporation Store. It’s nice that you sold me that fanootney valve for my turbo deplicatator, but as far as I’m concerned our relationship ended when I walked out of the store. I did not expect to get an email thirty minutes later asking me to complete your customer satisfaction survey. And I certainly wasn’t up for a phone call from Service Concierge, Filo Hipopshadeez, who wanted to follow up on how installation of the fanootney went. He (she?) was surprised I hadn’t attempted installation yet, and when I explained that my schedule was a little tight and I hoped to get to it next weekend, she (he?) cautioned that I shouldn’t let my 30-day No Holds Barred Return Policy period lapse. I said it was all groovy, but we parted on rather tense terms.

And Car Dealer Service Entity: If I do fill out your Happy Camper survey, which you promise will take only five minutes of my time (80 questions in five minutes? really?), I’m not going to diss your Happiness Superintendent by answering honestly that he was actually a little bit standoffish and pissy. I don’t want someone’s bad performance review hanging over my head, especially because Claude, I think his name was, has my home address on his computer. Next time he might arrange a subtle sabotage of my vehicle. Or worse.

And Monolithic Health Care Corporation (subsidiary of Only Game In Town, Inc.), we all know that you are essentially an insurance company and therefore have no soul (even if you do claim religious beliefs for tax purposes), I will not be phoning your Vital Signs Reach-Out Line to report my latest weight gain, because I know it will probably result in a higher premium next year. That is also why I don’t want to come in for a Ounce of Prevention Mental Health Chat, as described in the literature you sent. I’m afraid I’ll check in but won’t check out.

And finally, to all corporate retail outlets, I’m tired of having to carry your various Good Deal Cards (plastic I have to show to get your sale prices). You cuties, you’re so transparent. It’s all about harvesting my data, isn’t it! You want to see how often I buy Tanqueray and Preparation H. But seriously, when you insist that I need to sign up in order to get your best prices, it means you’re gouging everyone who doesn’t sign up. Clever. A little bit evil too.

And phone/electric/gas/cable company? You sent someone by to look at an outside box on my street. I really didn’t have a “customer experience,” so I’m not able to let you know whether or not it was satisfactory. You should, incidentally, aim higher than “satisfactory.”

So, to all corporations: Once we conclude our business, why can’t you just leave us alone?

11 comments on “Open letter to corporate customer service divisions

  1. Pamela Beckford
    July 23, 2014

    Reblogged this on Year 'Round Thanksgiving Project and commented:
    Given my recent difficulties with TIAA/CREF life insurance company, this resonated with me.

    • Kevin Brennan
      July 23, 2014

      Thanks for reblogging, Pamela!

      I have TIAA/CREF too… Don’t tell me they’re bastards too!

      • Pamela Beckford
        July 23, 2014

        I have been trying to get them to acknowledge my POA since June. I have nothing good to say about them.

      • Kevin Brennan
        July 23, 2014

        Dang. They’ve seemed so benign over the years…

  2. Phillip McCollum
    July 23, 2014

    So many peeves, but I’m sure a night filled with Tanqueray and Preparation H will wipe away all the bad memories!

  3. sknicholls
    July 23, 2014

    I’m with you. I wonder though. These sorts of things didn’t bother me when I was young and stupid. Now that I’m older and wiser…well they sort of make me feel aged, like I’m turning into a crotchety old biddie.

    • Kevin Brennan
      July 23, 2014

      I think you’re right. I’ve become Dana Carvey’s Grumpy Old Man!

  4. 1WriteWay
    July 27, 2014

    I am so sick of store cards. And my husband–proud anti-social media maven, ever-worried about the NSA and all the data mining of our personal lives–loves his Winn Dixie card. But, hey, when they say you saved $38 buying wine, Metamucil, toilet paper, and fruit, how can you argue? What? TMI? 🙂

    • Kevin Brennan
      July 27, 2014

      Fruit AND Metamucil?! (There should be some wine on that list too…)

      • 1WriteWay
        July 27, 2014

        Whatever keeps him regular 😉

Chime in

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s


This entry was posted on July 23, 2014 by in Et alia and tagged .
%d bloggers like this: