"Jump Around" Corporate America
As I sit down to work this morning, I fire up some old school "House of Pain". The song, Jump Around of course. I have just signed in to my music server you see. Pirating, and the free-wheeling Napster days are as gone as vinyl records. So like a good corporate citizen, I get my music legally. I pay for it. I don't mind. In fact, it makes me proud. I'm a bit of an artistic type myself. I understand that, yes, even the humble artist needs to put food on the table. I don't mind paying my fair due to even the wealthiest artists. So what if Nelly wants to go buy a new piece of bling. This is America.
The trouble I have is with my music provider.
For twenty-five bucks per quarter, I have unlimited access to their collection of music. It is a vast collection. No problem. You can search by genre, artist, song, etc. They provide endless radio stations, based on genere, or you can create your own. You create playlists, create your own library, and transfer or rip tunes. It's awesome really. In TQM terms, you could say it's completely "win/win". I use the service, the artists get their royality, and the company makes a buck or two.
It's a beautiful relationship I have with my music server.Until things went wrong. I had a small technical difficulty. I won't go into painful details. We all know working out bugs is part of the price you pay for such marvellous technologies. So, I call the help line. A confident sounding recorded voice assures me, my needs are the company's greatest concern. My call will be answered within TWO minutes. Of course, two hours later, a human voice, finally. Just one more problem, It seems my music server, which I figured was an American company, they are affiliated with a major cable/communications corporation, is outsourcing it's help service to India. Well, I don't know that much about India. I do know that if your customer service representatives are going to be assisting English speaking customers, the reps should speak English. At least well enough so they can understand you and you can understand them. Bottom line, after we wrangle around a bit on the phone in conversation it appears she (the Indian customer service rep) is on top of my technical problems and will waste no time setting things straight.
I hang up. I should feel, happy, releived. My service will be flawlessly restored.
Won't it? Suddenly doubt jumps in front of me and strikes me visciously across the head. I didn't really understand what she was saying. I think. Did she then, understand me? Mabye all the reps are trained to artfully give poor unsuspecting customers a false sense of assurance an then hang up on them? Onto the next call. Time is money. The company was efficent. Within twenty-four hours. My service was worse then ever. Further, my account had been totally changed around.
Time to jump back into the pool. Like the grandest general plotting stratedgy, I change tact. I go the e-mail route. One, two, e-mail correspondence. My service improves. My subscription, rightfully restored. Wherever those e-mails wound up, it seems the written English word is rather more exacting. Now, the final push. I go for the end-zone. Smashing through the defensive line. A third e-mail. My opus, I threaten to take my dollars elsewhere, and I will get everyone I know who uses their service to do the same. It's a bit of bluff on my part, but they are snookered. At long last, the Empire is saved. My service is fully back in operation, fully, completely, and the way it always should have been.
So, full circle now. I have signed into my server. House of Pain doing Jump Around, and myself with a new, fantastic realization. I always thought these guys were singing about dancing or such. Now I know the truth. They are warriors. They came to fight. I see myself in this tough stance. I "jumped around" with corporate America. Maybe, I didn't win. It's just nice to know I still have a bit of fight left in me.
The trouble I have is with my music provider.
For twenty-five bucks per quarter, I have unlimited access to their collection of music. It is a vast collection. No problem. You can search by genre, artist, song, etc. They provide endless radio stations, based on genere, or you can create your own. You create playlists, create your own library, and transfer or rip tunes. It's awesome really. In TQM terms, you could say it's completely "win/win". I use the service, the artists get their royality, and the company makes a buck or two.
It's a beautiful relationship I have with my music server.Until things went wrong. I had a small technical difficulty. I won't go into painful details. We all know working out bugs is part of the price you pay for such marvellous technologies. So, I call the help line. A confident sounding recorded voice assures me, my needs are the company's greatest concern. My call will be answered within TWO minutes. Of course, two hours later, a human voice, finally. Just one more problem, It seems my music server, which I figured was an American company, they are affiliated with a major cable/communications corporation, is outsourcing it's help service to India. Well, I don't know that much about India. I do know that if your customer service representatives are going to be assisting English speaking customers, the reps should speak English. At least well enough so they can understand you and you can understand them. Bottom line, after we wrangle around a bit on the phone in conversation it appears she (the Indian customer service rep) is on top of my technical problems and will waste no time setting things straight.
I hang up. I should feel, happy, releived. My service will be flawlessly restored.
Won't it? Suddenly doubt jumps in front of me and strikes me visciously across the head. I didn't really understand what she was saying. I think. Did she then, understand me? Mabye all the reps are trained to artfully give poor unsuspecting customers a false sense of assurance an then hang up on them? Onto the next call. Time is money. The company was efficent. Within twenty-four hours. My service was worse then ever. Further, my account had been totally changed around.
Time to jump back into the pool. Like the grandest general plotting stratedgy, I change tact. I go the e-mail route. One, two, e-mail correspondence. My service improves. My subscription, rightfully restored. Wherever those e-mails wound up, it seems the written English word is rather more exacting. Now, the final push. I go for the end-zone. Smashing through the defensive line. A third e-mail. My opus, I threaten to take my dollars elsewhere, and I will get everyone I know who uses their service to do the same. It's a bit of bluff on my part, but they are snookered. At long last, the Empire is saved. My service is fully back in operation, fully, completely, and the way it always should have been.
So, full circle now. I have signed into my server. House of Pain doing Jump Around, and myself with a new, fantastic realization. I always thought these guys were singing about dancing or such. Now I know the truth. They are warriors. They came to fight. I see myself in this tough stance. I "jumped around" with corporate America. Maybe, I didn't win. It's just nice to know I still have a bit of fight left in me.
posted by Intericeage4 at 8:36 AM
1 Comments:
Just when I thought I was the only person who abhors facing our indian customer support folks. LOL. I work for an HP authorized support center in Charleston and I try to communicate with these folks several times per week. When I know I am about to get on the phone with them I mark off about 45 minutes off my schedule for that day and just take a deep breath and do it.
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