wherein Liz fails at customer relations and then mopes about it

Today I managed EPIC FAIL at basic common sense and customer relations.

See, a woman lost her cell phone at the smoke shop sometime in the morning. She apparently didn't notice until about 5:30pm, when she began calling her cell from another phone.

Her ringtone was abominably annoying, and I was very tired, but neither of those factors comes anywhere near justifying my reaction. I picked up the phone, took the call, and said, "The owner of this phone lost it at [Store Name] and can't take your call. Please tell him or her to come pick it up."

Then I hung up without waiting for an answer.

The woman called back, and I did the same thing -- though this time I made sure to say the street address of the store -- and I know my tone was getting very irritable.

The third time she called, I did the spiel again, and then finally caught on that this might be the phone's owner and not just a random person who couldn't figure out that the owner wasn't available to take the call. So this time I waited, and the woman -- who was understandably upset and frustrated by my rudeness -- said that she wanted to pick up her phone, but she didn't know where it was. Where on earth was this store that she'd supposedly left it in?

I repeated the address. Twice. "Just off the Commons," I added.

"So you're downtown?" she asked. "On the Commons?"

"Yes," I said. "[Street Address], just off the Commons."

"So you're that little store?" she asked.

"We're a magazine and tobacco shop. We have orange awnings outside," I said, trying (too late) to be helpful instead of brusque. Honestly, 'little store' describes almost every business within a block or two of the Commons! But still, my tone was too rude. The customer is always right, and I'd started off very much on the wrong foot by hanging up on her twice.

"Oh, I bought a lottery ticket there," she said. "So you have my phone?"

"Yes," I said, managing not to say that this should be obvious from, you know, the fact that I had answered it and was talking to her on it.

She asked how late we were open; I told her. She asked if we'd hold the phone; I told her we were already holding it for her, we'd continue to hold it, and that she could pick it up at the counter. (Again, this seemed obvious from the context of the conversation, but... politeness never hurts anyone. And rudeness drives away business.)

So I managed to salvage minimal functionality from the incident -- I did get the necessary information across to the woman, so she could pick up her lost property -- but the minute I hung up the phone I was kicking myself for being such a snappish, thick-headed twit. I hate rudeness, and I especially hate the way I consistently fail to live up to my own standards of politeness. I dread to think how rude I'd be if I weren't always trying to bite down on a lot of my first, impulsive responses to people who annoy me.

...

I asked ET to give my apologies to the woman when she shows up for her phone. I hope he remembers.

wherein Liz fails at customer relations and then mopes about it

Today I managed EPIC FAIL at basic common sense and customer relations.

See, a woman lost her cell phone at the smoke shop sometime in the morning. She apparently didn't notice until about 5:30pm, when she began calling her cell from another phone.

Her ringtone was abominably annoying, and I was very tired, but neither of those factors comes anywhere near justifying my reaction. I picked up the phone, took the call, and said, "The owner of this phone lost it at [Store Name] and can't take your call. Please tell him or her to come pick it up."

Then I hung up without waiting for an answer.

The woman called back, and I did the same thing -- though this time I made sure to say the street address of the store -- and I know my tone was getting very irritable.

The third time she called, I did the spiel again, and then finally caught on that this might be the phone's owner and not just a random person who couldn't figure out that the owner wasn't available to take the call. So this time I waited, and the woman -- who was understandably upset and frustrated by my rudeness -- said that she wanted to pick up her phone, but she didn't know where it was. Where on earth was this store that she'd supposedly left it in?

I repeated the address. Twice. "Just off the Commons," I added.

"So you're downtown?" she asked. "On the Commons?"

"Yes," I said. "[Street Address], just off the Commons."

"So you're that little store?" she asked.

"We're a magazine and tobacco shop. We have orange awnings outside," I said, trying (too late) to be helpful instead of brusque. Honestly, 'little store' describes almost every business within a block or two of the Commons! But still, my tone was too rude. The customer is always right, and I'd started off very much on the wrong foot by hanging up on her twice.

"Oh, I bought a lottery ticket there," she said. "So you have my phone?"

"Yes," I said, managing not to say that this should be obvious from, you know, the fact that I had answered it and was talking to her on it.

She asked how late we were open; I told her. She asked if we'd hold the phone; I told her we were already holding it for her, we'd continue to hold it, and that she could pick it up at the counter. (Again, this seemed obvious from the context of the conversation, but... politeness never hurts anyone. And rudeness drives away business.)

So I managed to salvage minimal functionality from the incident -- I did get the necessary information across to the woman, so she could pick up her lost property -- but the minute I hung up the phone I was kicking myself for being such a snappish, thick-headed twit. I hate rudeness, and I especially hate the way I consistently fail to live up to my own standards of politeness. I dread to think how rude I'd be if I weren't always trying to bite down on a lot of my first, impulsive responses to people who annoy me.

...

I asked ET to give my apologies to the woman when she shows up for her phone. I hope he remembers.