May 28
Still smiling after my flirtatious exchange with Sarah, I answered the phone.
“Customer service,” I said into the receiver. “This is Joel.” “Look, Joel, this is Jack Moreno out at California Manufacturing,” a man’s frustrated voice said. “You guys delivered some stuff last week, and I just got the bill, and it’s wrong.” As soon as I heard the name of the company, I typed it into my computer. By the time he’d finished the sentence, I had his last order up on the screen. “The sulfur hexafluoride?” I asked. “Yeah, that’s the one,” he said. I could tell I’d surprised him. “What’s the problem?” I asked. “You guys billed me for the big ones, but we don’t get the big ones. They don’t even fit our equipment.” “Let me put you on hold for just a minute and I’ll check it out,” I said. “Okay?” “Sure,” he said, skeptically. I punched the hold button, walked to the file cabinets where the shipping documents got filed, and looked up the order. It showed ten of the large cylinders being delivered. I walked back to my desk and called Tim in shipping. “Hey, it’s Joel down in Customer Service,” I said. “Joel,” he repeated. “How’s things down there with the women. You getting any?” “Not as much as I did up there,” I joked back. “Listen, you remember the sulfur hex you guys shipped over to California Manufacturing last week?” “Sure,” he said. “That stuff is heavy. The guys always complain about having to load it.” “Were they the big cylinders?” I asked. “Hang on, let me check my records,” he said. Then, “No, they were the medium ones. Why, they get charged for the big ones? Sorry about that,” he said. “No problem,” I replied. “I’m on it. I disconnected and clicked back over to Jack. “Jack?” I asked, typing the change into my computer as I spoke. “Yeah?” he replied, irritated again after the long wait. “I’m sorry that took so long,” I said. “Our records showed the big ones, so I had to check with the shipping office. They told me we’d made a mistake. What’s your fax number? I’ll send over the correction right now.” “Wow, that was easy,” he said. “Last time this happened, it was a real hassle.” He gave me his fax number. That’s how it went most of the day. The whole idea of having someone on customer service who actually knew how things worked and who could answer questions had apparently never occurred to anyone before—and Schmidt’s idea to try it had been genius. I sat back for a moment as I waited for the next call and silently congratulated myself once again. This, I told myself not for the first time, was fun.
“Customer service,” I said into the receiver. “This is Joel.” “Look, Joel, this is Jack Moreno out at California Manufacturing,” a man’s frustrated voice said. “You guys delivered some stuff last week, and I just got the bill, and it’s wrong.” As soon as I heard the name of the company, I typed it into my computer. By the time he’d finished the sentence, I had his last order up on the screen. “The sulfur hexafluoride?” I asked. “Yeah, that’s the one,” he said. I could tell I’d surprised him. “What’s the problem?” I asked. “You guys billed me for the big ones, but we don’t get the big ones. They don’t even fit our equipment.” “Let me put you on hold for just a minute and I’ll check it out,” I said. “Okay?” “Sure,” he said, skeptically. I punched the hold button, walked to the file cabinets where the shipping documents got filed, and looked up the order. It showed ten of the large cylinders being delivered. I walked back to my desk and called Tim in shipping. “Hey, it’s Joel down in Customer Service,” I said. “Joel,” he repeated. “How’s things down there with the women. You getting any?” “Not as much as I did up there,” I joked back. “Listen, you remember the sulfur hex you guys shipped over to California Manufacturing last week?” “Sure,” he said. “That stuff is heavy. The guys always complain about having to load it.” “Were they the big cylinders?” I asked. “Hang on, let me check my records,” he said. Then, “No, they were the medium ones. Why, they get charged for the big ones? Sorry about that,” he said. “No problem,” I replied. “I’m on it. I disconnected and clicked back over to Jack. “Jack?” I asked, typing the change into my computer as I spoke. “Yeah?” he replied, irritated again after the long wait. “I’m sorry that took so long,” I said. “Our records showed the big ones, so I had to check with the shipping office. They told me we’d made a mistake. What’s your fax number? I’ll send over the correction right now.” “Wow, that was easy,” he said. “Last time this happened, it was a real hassle.” He gave me his fax number. That’s how it went most of the day. The whole idea of having someone on customer service who actually knew how things worked and who could answer questions had apparently never occurred to anyone before—and Schmidt’s idea to try it had been genius. I sat back for a moment as I waited for the next call and silently congratulated myself once again. This, I told myself not for the first time, was fun.
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