It was an evening like no other when we received that 5pm call that would take us on an unexpected adventure. The US president would be visiting a luxurious 6-star hotel by Lake Como, and it seemed he couldn’t bear to be without his favorite messaging system. In true tech support fashion, my colleague Max and I found ourselves rushing there (an hour drive from Milan) to install the hardware and software necessary to meet the president’s demands, all under the veil of night, so that the day after it would all be up and running.
Max, with his rebel look and perpetual tan, and I, equipped with a trusty toolbox, navigated the winding roads of Lake Como in our quest to set up this makeshift command center in the heart of opulence. As we arrived, we were greeted by the hotel staff, who looked at us with a mixture of curiosity and confusion.
Max couldn’t resist a sarcastic quip, “I hope they have a red carpet rolled out for us, too.”
We were ushered into the hotel’s extravagant meeting room, where we quickly set up the necessary equipment, praying that the president’s need for communication was as urgent as they made it out to be, and then headed into our comfort space: the datacenter, where all the opulence was suddenly gone, and we were back with our dusty and noisy servers! After a few hours of late-night work, we finally managed to get the messaging system up and running to presidential standards.
As the first rays of dawn broke over the tranquil waters of Lake Como, Max and I exchanged exhausted but triumphant glances. We had saved the day (or rather, the night) for the President and our company. It wasn’t every day that you got to play tech superhero with such a scenic backdrop. We thought maybe they would offer us a room, or at least breakfast, but no – just a thank you and goodbye. Max grinned, rubbing his hands together in mock excitement. “Well, another glamorous night on the job. Who would’ve thought we’d be the IT heroes of a presidential rendezvous?” We headed straight back to the office for our 9am coffee, sharing stories of our impromptu adventure with our colleagues, who couldn’t help but chuckle at the surreal nature of our work.
That time when the US president was visiting a 6 stars hotel by lake Como and suddenly their staff decided he could not do without his favorite messaging system on the internal telephone line. Me and my colleague Max then had to run during the night to install the hardware and the software in this mega fancy hotel – and then came back at dawn with a job well done and having seen a beautiful sunrise by the lake.
Little did I know that my arrival would coincide with a turning point for our company. The word was out – our support team was so great that customers and partners were flooding our lines, seeking assistance with our call center products and with the PBX. It was a bittersweet scenario – the demand was through the roof, but the phone lines were clogged to the brim.
In our tech sanctuary, huddled in the corner of the office, my colleagues Max (the PBX uber guru), Tess (the ever-practical business manager) and I pondered our situation. The idea of a dedicated tech support hotline had been brewing for a while, but now, it was more urgent than ever.
Max, with his tan, skinny super stylish clothes, and penchant for quirky solutions, suggested, “Why don’t we pick an easy-to-remember number, like 333? It’s like 911, but for tech support!”
Tess, always pragmatic and looking for a solution that made business sense, nodded in approval. “That’s a great idea, Max. We need to make it simple for our customers to reach us. Now, we just need to make it happen.”
With the plan in place, we set our sights on the weekend, the perfect time for a bit of office remodeling. Armed with an abundance of coffee and the promise of a free lunch, we went about the task of configuring the new hotline.
First up, it was my turn to record the welcoming message for the tech support hotline. As the “new kid” in the team, I was a bit nervous, but with Max and Tess cheering me on, I gave it my best shot.
“Welcome to the Tech Support Hotline – your direct line to our team of engineers. Whether you’re dealing with a PBX, a call center, or messaging system trouble, we’re here to help! Please select from the following options to get started.”
I might have snuck in a bit of sarcasm to lighten the mood, and my colleagues seemed to appreciate it. Max, in his usual jesting manner, commented, “You could sell sand in the desert with a welcome like that! Let’s hope they don’t decide to turn up here!”
Tess, being the voice of reason, helped me fine-tune the message, making sure it struck the right balance between welcoming and professional. After a few takes, we had a winner.
Next up was configuring the Interactive Voice Response (IVR) system, which would help route customers to the right branch and, eventually, the right tech expert based on the nature of their issue. This was a fun but challenging task, as we had to ensure that every key press led customers to the right destination.
Max, with his knack for creativity, decided to make this IVR system a bit of a maze. “Let’s make it fun,” he said. “Customers won’t feel like they’re navigating a labyrinth of technology; they’ll feel like they’re on an adventure!”
Our IVR started with some cheeky prompts:
– “Press 1 if your computer thinks you’re speaking in tongues.”
– “Press 2 if your PBX is being more cryptic than a spy novel.”
– “Press 3 if your call center software is in a mood swing.”
Tess, always the voice of reason, gently reminded us that customers needed to understand the options clearly. “While fun is great, we must also be clear and concise. Let’s keep the adventure but make sure our customers get where they need to be.”
So, with a touch of humor and a lot of precision, we designed our IVR system, making sure that customers could easily find the right path to their solution.
As Monday morning dawned, we were all on the edge of our seats, waiting for the calls to pour in. With a bit of trepidation and a whole lot of excitement, we pressed the button that brought 333 to life.
The first call came in, and our freshly minted IVR system took center stage. A customer, likely bewildered by the array of options, pressed 2, hoping to unveil the mysteries of their PBX. They were greeted by our super tech expert Max, who was ready to tackle the issue, and the journey of 333 had begun.
Over the weeks and months that followed, the tech support hotline became a staple of our company. The word got out that 333 was the number to call for all telecom equipment-related queries. The flood of calls was no longer a problem, we now had technology to our aid; it was a testament to our growing reputation as the go-to company for telecommunications equipment worldwide, and now we also had statistics and reports from my beloved CMS Solaris machine.
As years rolled on, the company continued to flourish. The tech support hotline became an integral part of our identity, and we celebrated every call that came through. Our team grew, and our reputation soared.
Looking back, that weekend of configuring the IVR system was a defining moment in our journey. The decision to make 333 our tech support hotline had not only simplified the process for our customers but also added a touch of whimsy to our otherwise serious industry.
The challenges and humor of those days are now fond memories, cherished with Max, Tess, Mr F., and the other tech guys who eventually joined the team. It was a time when we transformed a flood of calls into an organized system that welcomed customers and directed them to the solutions they needed. Our hotline became a symbol of our dedication to exceptional customer service, and it was a key factor in our rise to becoming the number one company for telecom equipment in the world.
As we look to the future, we know that technology will continue to evolve, and new challenges will arise. But with the lessons and laughter from our past, we’ll be ready to face whatever comes our way, one witty greeting and IVR maze at a time.
It’s 1997 and you just joined the team – you realized customers are getting the word of this great support team and so calls start to flood in – but hey your company literally makes call center products within the PBX! So, with Max and Tess (the business manager) you plan to pick a number in the private directory that will be the tech support hotline: from now on called “the 333”. You are drafted to record the welcome messages and all the IVR messages to select the right branch and go to the right guy according to the technology. Then one weekend with the team you install and configure everything and wait for Monday to begin. Use witty and funny tone, add conversations with colleagues and test of IVR messages. In the end this becomes a staple of the company for the next years to come, while the customers flock in and this becomes the #1 company for telco equipment in the world.
The year was 1995, and the internet had not yet become mainstream, at least in Europe. I was a 21-year-old girl with a passion for all things tech, using a whopping 1200 baud modem to connect with my BBS (Bulletin Board System) friends who shared my skills and interests. Little did I know that my affinity for computers would lead me to a job that was both easy and incredibly fun, with the exception of those users from hell.
With my unruly reddish hair, t-shirt and black pants, and a stride that was a mix of enthusiasm and defiance, I approached the work market with the only viable reason at that age: independence. I wanted my own house with my own rules, and I wanted them as soon as possible, so I searched for jobs that would make good use of my capabilities while giving the most money.
Now, you might be wondering what led me here. Well, it all started when I was a kid, taking apart my family’s VCR to see how it worked, and in general being the one that knows how to use technology in the house. My parents and elder boomer brother never understood my obsession, but they couldn’t deny that I had talent for all things tech related. So, naturally, I decided to make a career out of it.
I had always been aware that I didn’t exactly fit the typical mold of a computer whiz. Instead of being the classic bespectacled nerd, I was a young woman who embraced her uniqueness. My passion for technology was as fiery as my bright red hair, and I refused to let stereotypes or expectations define me.
Having now dropped out of computer science engineering at university, I found myself working at a software company that specialized in creating collaboration software for pharmaceutical representatives. My official title was “Customer Support Representative,” but in reality, my job encompassed a whole lot more. I helped users navigate our software, beta-tested new versions, and wrote user manuals. And oh, the tales I could tell from those early days in tech support.
The technology
This was an American company that sold a framework to be customized by the local subsidiaries, not just with language but also with specific features. It was an old day’s collaboration software where the users would dial in via modem from their portable laptop (and portable meant 3-5kg weight for a Pentium processor with maybe 4Mb RAM!) to upload their client data and download updates and messages, via modem on the telephony line. The first versions had no GUI. The message server was internal only, typically a unix OS with a large DB, hosted on our company’s local servers (what we would now call private cloud), and not connected to the internet or to any other external mail server, so they could only communicate within the server and remote clients topology.
My desk was a haven of tech gear, complete with the latest computers and gadgets, some personalization, and a coffee mug that declared “No, I won’t fix your computer”.
My coworkers were a mix of personalities. My cubicle neighbor, Mauro, a developer and dba, had the ultimate decorations: his dead tarantulas pinned into frames, where you could watch and observe these fascinating creatures without the fear of them jumping on you. This is where my love for spiders all started. I embraced my unique identity in the male-dominated tech world, and I was known for my sarcastic wit and love of all things geeky.
Some were tech-savvy and got my sense of humor, while others… well, let’s just say they were tech-challenged. But one thing was for sure: I could always count on my fellow geeks to make me laugh.
One day, I was sipping my coffee and browsing through a new beta version of our software when my phone rang. It was our receptionist, Lisa, who had a knack for spotting the “users from hell” before they even made it to my desk.
“Hey, there’s a user here who’s convinced their computer is possessed,” Lisa said, her voice laced with amusement.
I chuckled and grabbed my headset. “Send the call up, I’ll perform an exorcism.”
Moments later, I was speaking on the phone with a frazzled pharmaceutical rep named Mr. B. who talked as if he’d seen a ghost, and not the friendly Casper type.
“Please, you have to help me. It’s doing things on its own!” he exclaimed.
I tried to maintain a straight face (we were told to never laugh or even smile while on the phone as the receiving end might tell) but couldn’t help the smirk that crept in. “Don’t worry, I’ve dealt with poltergeist computers before.”
I asked him if the cursor was darting around the screen as if it had a mind of its own. I knew the culprit immediately: a malfunctioning trackpad. I guided him to discreetly disabled the trackpad, enabled it back, and the cursor finally obeyed commands. Mr. B was enthusiastic and promised to send the laptop for repairs along with flowers… I did not mention how I have always loathed flowers: they made a great gift for my female colleagues.
My colleagues overheard the commotion and joined in the fun. Stefano, a tennis player with a collection of famous players pictures on his desk, quipped, “If the touchpad acts up again, just sprinkle some holy water on it.” Mauro, who would be mocked forever for showing up in a complete blazer and vest suit on his first day of work, chimed in, “Or call the Ghostbusters. They’re good with all things supernatural.”
Days like these were the norm in my job, where I never knew what kind of tech-related escapade I’d encounter next. Some days, it meant helping a user understand the basics of copy-paste (yes, in 1995, not everyone had mastered it, especially on non-graphic operating systems). Other days, it was deciphering why a user’s keyboard was suddenly typing in hieroglyphics (language settings, folks).
My colleagues and I had a blast sharing stories of our most memorable interactions with users from hell. There was that time a user called because her computer was “smoking.” Turned out, it was just a dust bunny in the exhaust fan. Then, there was the infamous “any key” incident, where a user couldn’t find the “any key” to continue an installation.
This was also a time filled with pranks: when, finally, our computers donned the Windows GUI, we used to screenshot the desktop of an unaware colleague, hide all the icons and then use it as the background picture, measuring the time it took to realize why clicking on the icons had no effect.
As much as I enjoyed the camaraderie with my tech-savvy coworkers, I couldn’t escape the occasional frustration that came with dealing with users who had literally never seen a computer before and were forced by the company to use it on a daily basis to record all their interactions and work (free data entry!). But I reminded myself that patience was a virtue, and each interaction was an opportunity to educate and help someone in need.
Back in the realm of tech-savvy coworkers, we often engaged in friendly competitions of who could come up with the most sarcastic but helpful response to absurd user queries. It was a way to let off steam and share a laugh during those long days of troubleshooting.
One day, as we gathered around my desk, I received an email from a user named Robert. His message read, “My computer is making strange noises. It’s like a mix of beeping, buzzing, and quacking. Is it possessed?”
My colleagues erupted into laughter. Stefano, who had a vast collection of sci-fi novels, said, “Tell him it’s just a computer duck. They’re known to be quite mischievous.”
I couldn’t resist the temptation. I replied to Robert, “Don’t worry, it’s just your computer duck, a distant relative of the ghost mouse. They tend to get chatty when they’re hungry. Try feeding it some virtual breadcrumbs.”
My colleagues and I had a good laugh, but we also took our roles seriously. We were responsible for ensuring that our software worked seamlessly for the pharmaceutical representatives who relied on it for their daily tasks. We beta-tested new versions rigorously, squashing bugs, and provided valuable feedback to our development team.
As for the user manuals, I approached that task with my own unique flair. Instead of dry and technical instructions, I infused them with humor and relatable anecdotes. I wanted our users to feel like they were having a conversation with a friend, not wading through a dense technical document. It was a small touch, but it made a big difference in our users’ experience. In the world of tech support in 1995, sarcasm and humor were my allies. They helped me navigate the challenging waters of clueless users, and they brought joy and camaraderie to my interactions with fellow tech geeks. Every day brought a new adventure, a fresh challenge, and a tale that I was sure one day would be the subject of a book.
It’s 1995. internet is not mainstream yet in Europe. you are a 21-year-old girl with good computer skills, using a 1200 baud modem to connect with your BBS friends with similar skills. these people will become your best friends for life. You are hired by a software company that localizes a pharmaceutical collaboration sofwtare (or the grandfather of a crm) for reps. describe your workplace with wit and sarcasm as people act a bit funny seeing you are a woman and not the usual eye glassed nerd. Internet is not there yet, and your job is technical support to those poor reps, forced to use technology to ditch the daily paperwork for a free data entry. your job is customer care representative, helping users with the software, and beta test the new versions, and writing user manuals. The job is super easy and fun, except when dealing with users from hell. write with witty and sarcastic tone, adding conversations with unskilled computer users and funny colleagues who get it.
If you were wondering why I haven’t posted for a while now, it’s because on top of the usual work-family load, I have embarked in the CCXP certification, which I was able to get at the end of June (yayy!).
While I was studying the CX transformations that companies went through in the past 3-4 years, which somehow revolves around “the ultimate question” to users and consumers, I sometimes raised my head and noticed that there is a big wave of Net Promoter Programs that is hitting Europe at this time. As a customer and consumer, I have been now asked the question at least 7 times from different companies in the past 2 months only, all varying from bank institutions, to airlines, mobile operators, hotels and healthcare insurances. The cutest one, was in the form of a Whatsapp mobile chat with the brand (on a web page), asking the nps question and the open ended comment. They are all asking the same thing, with different levels of variation, but having studied thoroughly what a Net Promoter program is within a company, I now realise where this is getting us.
The greatest achievement of NPS, so far, has been something no other metric within the CX world ever dared to: it was able to link emotions to revenue. Emotions come from the complex evaluation mechanism that make you, as a user, decide to recommend a brand to your friends and family. Reasons for this evaluation are so complex that relevant statistics analysis can be applied to some extend to split the subset of emotions leading to the final score. But linking it to revenue? This is the beauty of it: you can finally understand why brands that become trendy and fashionable also increase their revenues substantially and on the other side, why brands that are providing mediocre experiences are set to, basically, disappear in the mid-long term.
So the CCXP exam, or to better phrase it, the books I read to pass the exam (suggestions in the bottom), were really eye-openers to me, as in the past I simplistically considered NPS as a quick metric, while in a serious program it’s clear that it is so much more.
And its wave is coming so strong that my recommendation to all those companies that are still sceptical or unaware of such program, is to start quickly working on it, or prepare to be out of market in a few years.
Finally this also brought some consciousness as a consumer: I now know what to expect from a serious company doing NPS. With a low or very low score, the closed loop-back process implies that I should be contacted and given voice to report my issues. It means that I am valued as a customer and that the company is keen on fixing any issue to keep doing business with me.
But wait…. what if I don’t get any feedback? 🙂
good NPS reading: these books were suggested to me by a nice colleague who is a true CX expert, and I have to admit they all were eye opening.
In preparation for a customer meeting around social customer care, I am browsing through Twitter and Facebook looking for customer care requests: I can see a lot of variations of #badcx, so I thought it’d be interesting to put together a list of what NOT to do when your customers are complaining or asking help publicly via social media:
If the rant is specific to a common issue that many other are experiencing, you don’t want to just respond but to show everyone how to fix the problem so that the same experience can be shared among peer customers.
When a user is ranting about something that went bad with your company or product, this means that they probably already tried to contact you via phone or email and typically this is their last resort. So the ideal answer cannot be “please contact us at 800…”. The response should be immediate and in-channel. If personal information are involved, publicly switch to DM or Messenger and then try and contact the customer directly.
If there is a help request that can be solved by providing technical or product information, by all means provide those info publicly! Not only the requester will be happy as cake, but the love will spread to other users that are maybe searching for the same info on your very website!
When you are a large global company, sometimes issues can only be resolved at field level. This does not mean you can’t include them in the public social conversation! At minimum, you should show the customer that you have passed on the information, and they will be contacted by the local branch. Responding to go to the local store…well…reads just #badcx.
Again, even if you are a large corporation with lots of department and employees, if a customer resorted to public shaming you, responding that you are “just the social media team” does not help improving the perception of your company. Consumers don’t care about your internal organization: if the social media team has your official brand, then it is the company front page as your contact centre is the front door voice.
If a user is so frustrated that they posted the same comment on your timeline over and over again, it’s not enough just to respond to one: every single message is potentially dangerous and searchable, and must be addressed with care. Wouldn’t it be the same if they took the time to make 10 complain calls at your contact centre? Or would you drop the line at the second call because you already answered?
And last but not least…the language. If you are a global corporation in 20 countries it might be assumed you also support the local language of your operations. Responding to a public tweet or post in a different language is not considered polite, unless you offer an explanation and at least a tentative translation with any of the commonly offered free on-line tools. Also, there are lots of translators out there, in case of lack of skilled resources.
My overall impression is that you can immediately spot when social marketing teams are responding to customer care inquiries: the language is perfect and polished, the responses look pre-approved and are always politically correct, but the results?
Companies need to start providing decent social customer care, and they can make this decision easily by just browsing their own pages and accounts today.
Yesterday evening I was having a fine dinner with some colleagues. A very international and diverse bunch, all with several years of experience in the CX and contact centre and telephony realms.
This guy beside me was telling a story: when he was once visiting my country with his family, the company he worked for at the time begged him to go to a customer, to fix a huge problem. He gladly accepted to help, though remarking he did not have any business wear, and so he would go there with flip flops. And shorts. He was kind of ashamed telling this, as he would not consider it very nice to go to a customer in flip flops, but had no alternative as the issue was rapidly escalating, so off he went.
While he was telling the story I suddenly realized I had been involved in that same story. Although I did not know his name at the time, he was a legend among the technical staff as “the guru in flip flops and shorts”. Everyone was in awe of how the guy presented himself, so sure of his technical skills to not need any business clothes (in a country that is mostly obsessed with clothes and appearance, sometimes even the washing machine technician is wearing a tie).
The customer back then was _delighted_ not so much from the casual wear, but from the fact that the problem was fixed in seconds and all was back to normal again. Thanks to the guy in flip flops, who then became this legendary, quirky technical guru.
Fast forward a few (many) years and now the guy in flip flops may represent your best CX experience.
When we are offered any customer experience, are we ready to skip formality in order to receive a better service? do we perceive CX quality or also its form? Do we care more about form, appearance or substance, actuality?
I personally think the times would be ready now for the guy in flip flops. 🙂
As users, in engaging with companies, are we more focused on the result, or on the instant gratification?
If I have to reply, I would definitely say that I’d rather have my problem fixed than a very quick, yet inconclusive, answer that will force me to prolong my CX journey.
But, on the other hand, when I contact a company and have immediate feedback – of any sort – my internal personal rating of that company raises immediately, even if the problem that prompted me to engage them is not _really_ fixed. I can hear my inner conscience mutter a lazy “yeah but..”, but cannot deny the thrill of having some sort of instant gratification, albeit for different purposes.
As companies try and find new ways of assessing their CX quality and strategy, it should be imperative that consumer expectations match the company’s offering, while often this is not the case. Consumer expectations are freight and volatile, mixed with brand awareness and the constant time constraints, so that sometimes we give a high score to a specific interaction only because of its speed and type of channel, not with the final quality of the experience. But as complexity arises, we’re no longer measuring a “first call resolution” but an entire journey that could span several channels and that is directly linked to a company KPI. The speed of answer is as important as the answer itself, mostly because we are now used to fast-everything and do not accept any sort of delay.
What are your thoughts on this? Would you rather have instant gratification or effective resolution from your providers? And how should CX quality be measured then?
I often have customer meetings where we talk about the web part of a customer experience, and how to present information to the user. One of my first questions, once we have talked about the strategy and how the experience would flow through the CX journey is: “how is this experienced through a smartphone?”, or “what if the journey starts from a smartphone rather than a land line or a computer?”
Random Statistics: 1.2 Billion mobile web users are estimated worldwide, with some 25% of the overall web traffic being mobile.
In my experience as a user, I realize there are applications that I have never opened in my laptop browser: Uber, Instagram, Waze, Facebook messenger. The whole social media folder is now 99% of times accessed only via smartphone. I have tried the Whatsapp web extension but then thought “what the heck? I don’t really need another distraction on my screen, I already have the mobile beeping and blinking”.
There are, though, applications that I rarely or never use on a smartphone: writing this blog only happens with a proper keyboard a large screen and a huge cup of coffee, the same goes when choosing a holiday location, as I want to see large and detailed pictures of the houses I am renting, and even a Google maps tab to calculate the distance from airports and stations.
The on-line shopping is trickier: obviously, being a woman, I like buying clothes and accessories and doing it on a large screen helps with details of fabric and textures….but if I need quick shopping, as in Amazon-prime-misc-stuff-that-I-happen-to-remember-only-when-bathing-kids-or-cooking-dinner shopping, then the smartphone is my friend as it only takes a couple of clicks to get through an order and I can then forget about it until the package arrives. Blissful!
Developers who make smartphone apps spend their work day staring at a large screen and fighting with the constraints of a smaller mobile screen, so I totally understand that there might be frustration around this. There is some online discussion around mobile first design and the impression I got is that yes, you need to adapt to this new way of using the web, but large screens are still there and offer so much more features and context that sometimes it’s really tough to start with mobile all the way up. On the other hand, designing with a mobile first approach has the advantage of forcing you to disrupt, to see things differently and to (sometimes over-)simplify the experience.
A company’s customer experience does not always start from a smartphone, but typically will somehow pass through one at some point. If defining a CX journey is also helping the company to drive their customers to their preferred method, then it should be mandatory to step back and see the big picture, trying to understand if a mobile first approach will help or stop the user in their journey.
So my suggestion during the discussion is to try and picture a mobile everywhere in the journey, and see how it fits, then pick the moments where it was most useful because of its strengths (mobility, proximity, quick and easy access) compared to having a user open their laptop or computer or use different channels. Then try and make the customer’s life easier by reflecting those strengths to the wider picture and the mid-long term strategy of the business. The result is obviously never the same, but hey, have I mentioned the need to experiment? 🙂
being a customer of yours since the late 90’s (which incidentally and sadly also gives away my age), I think I gave you enough fees to have me granted a decent customer care when my name appears today in a new card request.
Instead, I get an automated, impersonal message where it is clear that none of your (sophisticated?) systems put together that, with the same name, personal information and postal address, I am indeed the same person currently using another card.
Plus, when I take the time to respond, very politely, that you should _not_ ask such stupid questions as you should just make the effort of a quick search in your own database, then the ultimate insult surfaces: another automated email, identical to the first!!!! As if your script does not even bother to check what has been previously sent!!!
Apparently there is some more automation as I then get the same email after 5 days, so this means somewhere in your systems you must know what’s going on…or maybe you are really completely in the dark and keep sending the same email over and over.
Is this a joke? Are you telling me that in twenty-fifteen you cannot join two databases and understand that the same person is requesting another card? That you, a finance institution, of all the companies, don’t have enough resources for proper customer care and a decent customer experience via email????
Dear Big Credit Card Corporation, I am so disappointed and sad, that I will just avoid answering your emails and will wait for your systems, if ever, to kick in and contact me properly. Meanwhile, please go and check around some best practices of customer experience via digital channels: this may help with your evident struggle.
One occurrence is not significant. This really sums up our feelings towards customer experience. If we happen to find the unicorn of CX, where everything runs smoothly and is fabulous and neat, we will still rant about the other 99% of occasions which left us sour-mouthed.
And why is that? I mean why can’t we brag about one nice experience and make it up for the other fails? I guess the answer is bordering philosophy and the fact that there is an intrinsic lightness to our experiences with companies and providers.
Or is it just that companies and providers are not making the effort and don’t deserve our feelings nor to be considered meaningful?
For now on, my resolve will be to spot any good CX and post it here, so it is no longer non-significant, at least for a few bytes. 🙂
e usual work-family load, I have embarked in the CCXP certification, which I was able to get at the end of June (yayy!).
nevermindthedigital 