The cost of crap
For several years now we've been buying our groceries online. It's worked well, and for the last couple of christmases I remember Heather adding a six-pack into the pre-christmas order so she could pull it out and hand it off to the delivery guy.
Fair enough too, because he was their front-line man. He was the guy who had to actually meet the customer, and even if only for two minutes face time, the impression he gave with his cheery "seeya mate" on the way out, and his always-happy smile, was that getting the groceries delivered was fun.
Well that ongoing encouragement has gone now. His surly replacement who moans about having to carry the boxes up a flight of stairs does nothing to promote a repeat experience, and he brings into sharp focus the disadvantages of online grocery ordering: sometimes the wrong thing is substituted, or sent. Or the fruit doesn't travel quite so well as it does with the personal loving kindness we supply in our own padded wagon.
Two visits from the new guy, and we're back to driving to the supermarket ourselves, patrolling the aisles once more in a cereal haze of consumer demand. Distress-purchasing done, and back to the car A.S.A.P. Carrying our own boxes up the stairs.
I hate it, which is why I promoted the idea that we try this online grocery thing a few years ago, and it's worked just fine until this sullen bastard came along and destroyed the fun.
I wonder how the company feels? Do they realise what this person is doing to their customers? Will they notice, and if they do, will they even be able to tell where the source of the problem is?
In these days of increasing online experience, customer service is still important, if not more important than ever before.