Customer service at the
Dolphin
Let me just clarify from the
outset that the Dolphin Square apartment complex is a great place to live in
for any number of reasons.
When it comes to their staff,
everyone is proactive, does what they should in prompt fashion and basically
ensures that the 2,000-apartment complex runs with a minimum of fuss.
These guys are a credit to
their American employers.
However, there is one single
exception to all this good news, and it comes in the form of the wizened up old
hag who heads the tenant’s front desk area.
When Julia had her first
encounter with this princess of doom she walked away muttering under her breath
“ I can’t stand that old bag. From now on you are going to have to deal with
her.”
I don’t know what bad breaks
this woman has had in her life however what I do know is that until her last
breath all that come into contact with her are going to suffer accordingly.
Whenever I either approach or
walk past her reception counter I can always guarantee her voice squawking away
as she bags yet another fellow employer or tenant. This character is simply unbelievable.
She’s a public relations nightmare for the company. Only in England would she
be able to get away with all this nonsense and still retain her employment.
When it comes to actually
dealing with her face to face, well, it’s a battle.
Round One:
I approach the counter,
clarify who I am, the apartment number I rent, then enquire as to the
availability of apartments on the 8th and 9th floor that
have balconies. Without a word this woman slides a sheet of paper in my general
direction, which lists apartment rentals and makes no reference to the
availability of same. So I try again. Finally the woman raises her eyes to
somewhere near the level of my chest and tells me she “Wouldn’t know what’s
available”. So I ask her who would. She then tells me if I would like to put my
name on a list and they will come back when something’s available. At this
stage I’ve had about enough of this shonky performance so I raise my voice slightly
and in a quietly threatening tone say to her “Since you are in no position to
answer my basic query, can you please put me through to the Customer Services
Manager or better still the overall manager of Dolphin Square.”
An instant look of sheer
terror then appears on this woman’s face and suddenly this evil piece of work
is my best friend, immediately swings into action and thirty seconds later has
answered my initial query in full.
Round Two:
We have received an email
confirming the bulk rental charge for last month. I needed a more detailed
breakdown so off I trot to the front desk and ask if I could speak to the woman
who issues the monthly charges.
This seriously dysfunctional
piece of work on the counter responds by saying “the accounts lady won’t speak
to you. She doesn’t speak to any tenants. She’s a real stuck up cow that one
(She’s talking about her own fellow employee!) and she’s just been to
Australia. I wish I could go to Australia but I don’t have the luxury of her
high income.”
Being battle ready for this
type of response I immediately ask this woman if she is in fact refusing to put
a call through as I have requested. Her response was again that I’m wasting my
time etc. and she then sits back in her chair staring at the desk and not
moving a muscle.
So I respond by standing
quite still right in front of her, not saying a word.
Ten, twenty, thirty rather
satisfying seconds tick by.
Finally, a scrawny arm
reaches for the phone and a set of gnarly fingers hit the phone dial pad with
force enough to actually move the phone along the desk.
And victory is mine! I’m
connected with the non-approachable invoice woman, an individual who couldn’t
have been more helpful.
I finish the call, and as I’m
about to hand back the phone its snatched out of my grip and slammed back down
on its cradle.
At which point I turn back to
this evil piece of work, put on a big broad smile and whilst her fellow staff
are within listening staff tell her that I think her public relations ability
is a credit to the entire Dolphin Square organization and that I will personally
ensure her superiors hear about the great work she does on behalf of we, the
paying tenants.
And with that I exit left
Round Three
Yesterday I needed to send an
A4 sheet by email, so I fronted the counter, explained that my laptop was on
the blink and wondered if they could do me a small favour and email this single
document.
The immediate response from
this poor excuse for the human race was that “We don’t send emails on behalf of
tenants, or anybody else for that matter.”
Just at that moment a guy
comes to the counter carrying a tray of sticky buns.
The old bag looks at me and
says “We are closing this counter for fifteen minutes to have morning tea.
Please come back later.” And with that she turns her back on me and starts to
walk to the side door. I wait until she’s about to exit left then say to her,
“No problem, I anticipated your response so will take this request up with your
direct superior and establish why its against your companies policies to offer
a customer services function in respect to emails.”
Not to be outdone, this woman
then says “You can’t use one of these counter phones whilst the counter isn’t
being covered” to which I immediately respond, “no problem, I’m just going to
stroll over to the corporate area to vent my frustration over this issue and
have matters clarified.”
Panic! Big Panic!
“I’m sorry Mr Alcorn, I must
have misunderstood your request. Did you mean you wanted us to send an email on
your behalf? That’s no problem. No problem at all. We can do it immediately”
“But what about your sticky
buns and closing the counter for fifteen minutes. What happened to all that?”
“Mr Alcorn, perhaps I misspoke.
This counter is open from nine to nine. Now where’s your email.”
I LOVE THIS WOMAN!
And I simply relish the
thought of a further eight months of toe-to-toe combat.
Postscript from Julia. For
those that may have watched ‘Eastenders’ at some stage of their lives, this
woman is just like one of these characters. I had to sort out quite a few
little problems on the first couple of days of moving in and every time I had
to deal with her she gave me grief, but with that condescending smiling way
with all the put-on courtesy, over the top politeness and gushing that the
English are so famous for.
Once I had to ring the Power Company
from her phone and had to hang on forever going through the usual company phone
menus. While waiting to be connected to a real person I could not believe the
bitching and whining coming from ‘our lady of the desk’ about other staff or
tenants. I knew that as soon as I had finished my call and my back was turned
that she would be giving her colleague a right ear-full complaining about those
new Australian tenants. Everyone here think that we are Australian so why not,
Cobber!
