A few months ago, I was selected to join a five-day online study about customer service.
Oh, did I have a story to share!
Earlier in the year, I’d spent an absurd amount of time trying to convince ADT (home security) to stop charging me for a service I’d already canceled.
I’d been a loyalist for more than 20 years, having their systems set up each time I moved to a different three-flat in Chicago.
That service felt less necessary for Arizona apartments, and I finally called to close out the account, paying the remaining balance. I was told everything was set, complete, finalized.
Except… it wasn’t.
The charges kept coming.
This led to multiple phone conversations where agents promised I was paid up ‘in the system’ but couldn’t send me a formal confirmation (that had to come from “Corporate”).
I switched to online messaging, where someone verified via the chat that they could see my account was closed. Yay – I love getting things in writing! Click <screenshots captured>.
But it didn’t do me much good because the next month?
More charges.
American Express eventually stepped in so I wasn’t actually still paying, but every billing cycle, another annoying ADT line item appeared.
At some point, I assembled dates, names, those handy screenshots and enough documentation to make a trial attorney proud, and emailed it all to a couple of ADT addresses I finally unearthed online. Yes, my money was protected by my credit card company, but to quote a once very-popular 1990s speaker, “Stop the Insanity!”
Several weeks after my lawyer-level communications plopped into those inboxes, the madness did indeed stop.
So when this online community started gathering research about memorable customer service fails… I felt well-versed on the subject.
For five days, I logged into their site and answered questions about my experience – some in writing, some verbally, with each session usually lasting about 30 – 40 minutes. And for that effort, I not only got to vent about ADT, but also earned enough credits to equal a $25 certificate at a retailer of choice.
Woohoo! Compensation for pain and suffering :).
Soon after awarding the points, the research platform sent an email encouraging us to exchange them asap for use at Amazon while Prime Days were happening.
Suddenly, I was envisioning scoring some hot deals with an unexpected gift card about to burn a hole in my pocket.
Did I need any shiny trinkets?
That’s totally irrelevant.
I clicked through immediately to trade in my earnings.
Error: Users can only cash out via $20 increments.
Hmmmmm… I tried again.
Error: You don’t have enough points to claim anything.
Weird… I could physically see the amount in my ‘bank’, so this elicited a more puzzled hmmmmm.
I considered my oft-reliable tech solution but turning the malfunctioning object off and back on wasn’t going to help me here… so I contacted support.
A nice man named Charlie responded that there appeared to be a glitch, but “no worries” – he could manually take care of it.
After I wrote back a “thank you”, I did what any reasonable person would do if they had a soon-to-be-real-extra-$25-to-spend-at-the-world’s-largest-online-shop.
I began browsing for those (now very important) shiny trinkets, and a few made their way into my cart.
Which was followed by…
Nothing.
Charlie went MIA.
Twenty-four hours later, with my cart-items starting to have abandonment issues, I followed up:
“Hi – were you able to help? Prime Days ends at midnight.”
I never heard from Charlie again.
Eventually, someone else sent a note to all participants. Apparently, their entire system was undergoing maintenance. They suggested we “try again next week.”
Wait… what?
Does that mean the very thing they’d urged us to act quickly for would be long over? Yes.
Did the company at least acknowledge the irony of going from “hurry, don’t miss out” to “try again next week”? No.
Was it the end of the world? Also no.
Did I still purchase any of those bits and bobs in my cart? Yes. You can’t unplant an “amazing buys for a limited time” seed. And, of course, they were essential items.
Delightful-smelling shampoo was acquired (clearly, a necessity). Also, a pack of assorted glow-in-the-dark rubber ducks (who am I to deny some unsuspecting Jeep a new friend).
Eventually, the platform problems were fixed, and that gift card arrived – albeit several days after the last Prime deal had been shipped to its happy recipient.
But, as I sat in my darkened apartment watching the ducks illuminate (don’t judge… you know you’d do it too), it all felt a little on the nose…
I’d just taken part in a study that dove deep into customer service failures.
And, along with my much-delayed “prize”, the research company handed me another example.
At least those luminescent ducks have exceeded my expectations.
So funny because I was also thinking, “Oh, the IRONY!” LOL
I am glad Jeep has a new friend, or five of ten?? LOL
Hahaha, you see why I had to write about it! And Beep was actually supposed to be the distribution center for the new friends, not their permanent residence. Although… once I saw them glowing in my apartment, their employment status became less certain…😆