Personn-hell

First off, let me start by giving a proper shout out to my dad, my eighth loyal follower. Hi Dad! If mom's driving you crazy, hopefully this'll put a smile on your face. And speaking of family...

I come from a long line of customer service-pros. Not in just the fact that, at one time or another, everyone in my family has worked some sort of customer service work, but more specifically, if there's one thing my family does well, it's get things straight. To the layman you might refer to it as "complaining", but the Dempsey females have mastered it to an art form; letting the person who is (supposed) to be helping you know EXACTLY how they're doing. I include the Dempsey women, but unfortunately I do not lump myself in with the masters.

My mother is a dynamite complainer, though she would never admit it. More likely she would back-up her embarrassing complaints with the simple statement,"Well, after all I'm PAYING for this." And really, as keenly as an artist selects her brushes, my mother knows which tone pairs well with which words, given the circumstances. For instance, when in a restaurant, and her meal arrives cold, she'll simply call the waitress back over and without breaking her sunny voice and sweet words say, "Excuse me, hun. But I think this needs to be warmed up a bit more, please."

That's because usually it's some poor teenager just trying to make some cash, and my mom knows it's not her fault (usually). However, if she's to go to battle with such enemies as Comcast or AT&T, she opts for a more cutting tone and sharpened words.

"You know what, I have been a customer with you guys for X amount of years, and this is really ridiculous. I am not paying for that anymore, so please either cancel my service or tell me what you can do for me, because I've had it." Sure enough, the representative on the other line admits defeat and offers up the spoils in the form of an extra few months of reduced cost or something for free. I used to slink away from the room when she'd be engaged in such a battle of words; now I simply watch and learn.

My problem is I don't seem to be getting anywhere. More likely, I'm the one who ends up apologizing for something someone else did.

"I am soo soo sorry, but could you please, if it's not too much trouble, heat these Southwestern Eggrolls up a little tad more?", I said on a recent trip to Bill Bateman's.

"Oh sure, are they still cold?", asked the waitress.

Well, I'm guessing the ice crystals that are lodged inside are not part of some trendy marketing gimmick, I think. Instead, I just say, "Um, yeah just a little."

My big sister Hill, though, seems to coming along just fine, if her letter to a major chain hotel in St. John is to be any indication. I tried to copy and paste a few excerpts but for some reason I can't, so I'll just give you the gist of her experience.

Hill and her friend Annie were going for a small vacation to St. John's, just as hurricane Otto was slamming the coastline. Though they were both forgiving of the weather conditions (and therefore lack of fun in the sun), what was unforgivable was the hotel's lack of fun in the anything. No pool. No hot tub. No restaurants or bars that were open. They were basically left sequestered in their rooms, held hostage by boredom due to unavailable amenities. According to Annie's letter, they were not even addressed by words of concern or apologies from the staff; in fact, quite the opposite. When she asked why no one had bothered to inform the guests of the closed facilities, the receptionist merely replied that it wasn't their responsibility to do so. Yeah, because when people are spending their hard-earned economy-helping money at a high-end resort, why would they bother informing their customers in advance or (gasp!) post it for free on their website. Some people deserve to get sucked into a hurricane...

The girls were looking for something, ANYTHING, to make their stay worth while. The people at the front desk did not offer any sort of complimentary services, nor did they offer any solutions (besides telling them that the Ritz was open, which is exactly where my sister and her friend checked in halfway through their trip).

They managed to salvage the rest of their vacation, and even were rewarded with a few free nights at their original hotel (after writing scathing yet deserved letters to management). I still live pretty much by the motto "You get more flies with honey.." But maybe it pays to use vinegar more...

Ok kiddies, the towel on my wet hair is pulling my eyelids back, which means it's time to hit the hay. See you tomorrow!