<p>Speaking as a former professional in technical and corporate communications…I learned a long time ago that the Prego response (“It’s in there!”) is completely worthless. One is writing for/communicating with a specific audience: customers. If one’s audience can’t find information they need or use the product for the purpose for which they purchased it–note, not how YOU think it should be used or for what, but according to THEIR needs–it doesn’t make a damned bit of difference how elegantly designed you or the developers think it is.</p>
<p>Take advantage of the feedback and rework it is the proper response.</p>
<p>Contrary to popular belief we do listen to what customers say… They were having a hard time finding things (they weren’t hidden, just not on the very first page that pops up when you get to <a href=“http://www.website.com%5B/url%5D…”>www.website.com…</a>) so we passed that on (I must have personally given that feedback several dozen times) and not only did we get things moved around but we got a whole new website. They still aren’t on the very first page that comes up but I think people understand the menu options better now. It looks great.</p>
<p>^^ My comment was meant as a general thing, not as a criticism of you. As you pointed out, after the website was redesigned, the “I can’t find it” calls were greatly reduced. Clearly, someone was listening and responding well.</p>
<p>I could bore you for hours about the countless “dunderheads” I’ve had to endure as either a customer or a job applicant and, conversely, the precious few victories I’ve scored in having my needs met. So I must agree with Consolation’s observation that if the customer or applicant can’t navigate your website, literature or voicemail labyrinth, the best intentions in the world matter not. For any doubters, please check out [Language</a> of Trust | Selling Ideas in a World of Skeptics](<a href=“http://www.languageoftrust.com/]Language”>http://www.languageoftrust.com/)</p>
<p>Just a couple of my favorite “dunderhead” experiences.</p>
<p>Going through the checkout line at the grocery store, buying my Thanksgiving turkey. The checkout boy (late teens or early twenties) says “would you like your dead animal in a paper or plastic bag?” I think I replied that I would like to speak to the manager.</p>
<p>At Macy’s looking at a skirt. I asked the salesgirl if she had my size (at the time a 4). She replied “A 4?! Why would you want a 4?! What, do you want it skin tight?” With my mouth hanging open, I took the recommended 6 and went to the dressing room. It was too big, which I knew it would be but she had actually left me speechless! Nowadays I’d be happy to fit into the 6! And nowadays, I would have laid her out in lavender for her rude behavior!</p>
<p>I was buying fresh green beans for Thanksgiving. The weather was lousy, it had snowed and the parking lot was fully of salty dirty slush. I had my boots on, and there were beans that had fallen on the floor, I could feel them under my feet. I saw other people step on them as well. I gathered a bag of green beans and moved to get something else. A few minutes later I saw a middle-aged male store worker scoop up the beans off the floor and PUT THEM BACK IN THE BIN WITH THE OTHERS. I took my bag of green beans and put them back in the bin, then turned to the employee and said, “I’d like you to know why I’m putting these back. I saw what you just did, and I don’t want beans that have been stepped on by people’s dirty boots.” The worker replied, “So what? They grow in the dirt.”</p>
<p>NO. THEY. DON’T. Beans grow on a vine. And I don’t want produce that has been STEPPED ON by people with parking lot residue on their shoes!</p>
<p>I just walked away.</p>
<p>I finished my shopping, then found the customer service rep, pulled her aside and said, “I think you have a training issue in produce…” You should have seen the HORRIFIED look on her face as she took off literally RUNNING toward the produce section.</p>
<p>Yes, that same guy still works there. And I have only bought frozen green beans ever since.</p>
<p>My son worked for 4 years at MD camp. Mostly young men there and lots of wheelhchairs, so male counselors were truly needed and coveted. He received all kinds of accolades for his work there, When his primary ward died, son took a year hiatus and let them know. The following year, there was a new director who wasn’t even interested in talking to him. Let him know curtly that those who worked the year before had preference and that there was a new deadline on apps which he had missed by a week. He would be put on a waitlist. This was a volunteer positions 24/7 for a week. Son just shrugged and let it go.</p>
<p>Two days before the camp, the new director called, demanding that DS show up as though it was a huge favor for him to take this position. She called on our land line and I got the call. Rude, demanding and entitled is how this young woman sounded. DS says they are always short counselors. </p>
<p>OP here. All your posts have convinced me that no, it’s not just me. But I do think I experienced an extraordinary amount of dunderheadedness in just one week. There ought to be some kind of limit!</p>
<p>cptofthehouse’s story reminded me of D’s experience looking for her first day camp counselor job a few years ago. She got an offer over the phone a few days after an interview, and at the time was holding offers from two other camps (those were the days). As I had previously advised her, she thanked the camp director for the offer and told him she needed a day or two to think things over and make her decision. (The other camps had been quite gracious in affording her time to consider their offers–in fact they actually said she she should think things over and get back to them.) This dundergead told her that if she needed to think about it, she wasn’t the person for the job, and he revoked the offer on the spot! You’d think he’d given her the chance to be CFO at Microsoft. What a self-important idiot. He ran for School Board this past fall, and you can be sure he didn’t get my vote–once a dunderhead, always a dunderhead, in my book.</p>
<p>I had received about 25 cold calls at work in 3 days from companies and reps that I had no connection with offering me a cash advance (probably an advance on my credit card receipts I have never done, don’t need it and it’s a really bad deal and I have totally no interest in). </p>
<p>When I said, sorry, not interested, he replied “Why not? You’ve had one before.” (the umpteenth person to say that last week). I replied NO I have NOT, you have a bad list, please don’t waste my time. His response was “What’s the matter? You’re running a business right?” As if it was my responsibility to answer the phone to listen to unsolicited and unwanted sales pitches. (No- it’s my job to run the business. And since I am totally self-financed and sales are up 25% in the last 2 years, a cash advance is not on my agenda. Ever.)</p>
<p>I am dreading the phones this morning – I really don’t want yet another 25 calls from the bad list that someone is selling. I am too busy for this garbage.</p>
<p>When my mother passed away a couple of months ago, I had to call a lot of companies to get me recognized as administrator. Most of the companies - phone, electric, etc. - were very good and cooperative. But when I called BNY Mellon for certain financial arrangements, they said the owner of the account is the only one who can change the names of decision makers on the account. </p>
<p>me: Yes, I realize and appreciate the care you are taking with the funds, but the owner of the account is deceased. </p>
<p>BNY: We have a form, so all you need to do is ask the owner to fill it out, sign and return.</p>
<p>me: [thinking I can get a yes by presenting the obvious solution] So I can sign as legal representative of the owner. I’ve been designated by the court as executor.</p>
<p>BNY: No, we won’t accept your signature as administrator, executor, or anything else. It has to be the signature of the owner of the account.</p>
<p>me [now feeling snarky]: oh, so you need the signature of the person WHO JUST DIED.</p>
<p>^ re: hayden’s episode. Been there … suffered that. If you think customer service personnel have difficulty with living clients, try getting service for a deceased one.</p>
<p>One thing with deceased clients is that many people don’t realize a POA ends when someone passes away. So even if you have full access to say their insurance records when living, this ends when they have passed away. Some places will then have you send in executor papers or trust papers, things like that. Some places have special forms that you are supposed to fill out. Never saw a company expect a deceased person to actually sign something though… That’s new to me.</p>
<p>fendergirl, it wasn’t the company expecting the deceased person to sign - it was the representative on the phone. As the OP put it, she was the classic dunderhead.</p>
<p>I solved the problem by just assuming the company had more sense than its employee did. I went ahead with filling out the form, and signed as “hayden, as executor of the estate of”, and enclosed a copy of the death certificate and the court order appointing me as executor. Only a true, died in the wool dunderhead as the first rep was, would have thought otherwise! When we encounter one, they are truly memorable.</p>
<p>EPTR – Walked into Bloomingdales to find a dress for a wedding; I was willing to spend quite a bit as it was the first time I’d been to a fancy affair in a long, long time. Try as I might, I couldn’t find my size anywhere. So I asked a very tall, double-nothing sized salesgirl where it could be – I was very polite and smiling. She looked down her perfect little nose at me and sneered, “We don’t carry size <em>12</em>. Try <em>Sears</em>.”</p>
<p>I might add at this point that Bloomies was in the news for having serious cash flow issues. </p>
<p>Anyway, off to the manager’s. Turns out…they do carry it. But by that time I was fed up, and it wasn’t as if the manager was nice or apologetic either. I used to buy tons of Christmas/birthday/whatever presents at Bloomies on line because they had a lot of fun things. I haven’t spent a dime at that store since. </p>
<p>There are ways and ways of telling a person ‘we don’t have what you want’. It usually starts with ‘I’m so sorry’. Needless to add, I suppose, that I bought my dress at Coldwater Creek and looked fab. That’s a store with some nice service. I shop there a lot now…it’s usually the first place I go.</p>
<p>Before spending a planned week in Mexico I contacted Verizon to ask about international plans. Was told for pennies a day I could add Mexico to my plan and any and all calls and texts would be billed as if they originated in the US. I repeated back to the CS rep…'I understand there will be no texting or voice call charges for any usage originating from Mexico to the US. I also understand that any Verizon customer in the US calling or texting us while in Mexico will not be assessed any additional charges. I understand our current minutes and limits apply" CS assured me this was correct. Before we left on our trip I called Verizon yet again to make sure I understood the plan - I was given the same explanation and assurances. Bill arrives, and …drum roll please…I see data charges! Call Verizon…was told I was given bad info, their plan had changed just a few weeks before my calls. Yes, there was a charge for texting…I assured them they needed to remove the charges, which they did.</p>
<p>DW rented a car in New Orleans just before Katrina hit, and dropped it off at the Birmingham airport. $350 charge for not returning it to the same place where rented. I called and was told that the facts were clear … rented in New Orleans, dropped in Birmingham. “But your lot in New Orleans is STILL under six feet of water … and there’s no one there to check the car back in” I protested. Doesn’t matter the representative said. Idiot. I hung up the phone and called again. The next rep was very nice. She dropped the $350 charge and thanked us for taking care of their car.</p>
<p>My mother’s house was recently burglarized. Two or three digital cameras were taken, along with all of her jewelry, two laptops, and countless other valuables. Many of the items were gifts, so my mom had little proof of the value of her loss, which was frustrating to her and her insurer. </p>
<p>Insurance rep, exasperated: “You don’t have any proof. Can’t you just take pictures of the items?”</p>
<p>Mother: “Take pictures OF what and WITH what?”</p>
<p>AiHy, I’m so sorry you were burglarized, but I have to admit that’s a pretty funny response by the insurance company.</p>
<p>I try for historical interest to take pictures of family members using every day sorts of things - computers, cars, etc. - because they’re interesting 20-30 years later. And it occurred to me that the only thing I’ll never have a picture of is my camera.</p>
<p>When my MIL passed away, my “job” was to call her Medicare Supplemental insurance company and cancel the coverage. I called and explained why I was calling. The rep I spoke to must have been reading from a script. Here’s what she said:</p>