Come on … say it with me.

“A customer is not a process.”

Part 1

My oldest daughter plays the oboe, and plays it quite well. It was time for us to buy her “a good one” with full conservatory fingering, so we went (an hour’s drive) to the largest in-stock music instrument inventory store in the world: Chuck Levin’s Washington Music Center, a crammed-full, old fashioned-styled, complete-with-original-wooden-cashier-cage, family-run establishment.

Now here’s where it gets real interesting …

After doing all the right things (with attentive, personal service), we selected a handmade, wooden Howarth oboe and went to pay for it. Novel as it may sound, we had saved up for this moment and I wrote a check from our special-purchase savings account. The salesclerk in her wooden cashier’s castle dutifully processed the check, processed it again, and then somberly handed it back to me with a little slip of paper. “Telecheck could not validate your check. Call them on the phone there and see what’s holding it up.”

The telephone conversation went well enough at first: yep, received check request; yes, you have sufficient funds in the account; validated, excellent credit history; okay, updated and confirmed this info in my system file. Great! I asked for whatever approval code I needed to hand the patient folks here at the music store, and I’d be on my way.

--- Can’t do that. Not enough account activity.

--- But this is our special savings account for the rare, special purchase; not much activity.

--- No can do. Not enough transaction activity.

The conversation went downhill in a rush after that.

I was a process, not a customer---not even a customer-once-removed on behalf of the music store. And I couldn’t get him to see it.

Even if Telecheck did not empower him to approve the transaction, he should have had the customer-service-sense to pass me on to a superior who did. Nope. No way. No how.

The only solution he could offer was for me to write numerous checks of small amounts over the next seven days, and then try the larger purchase again.

I had an empty checkbox next to my name in their heartless automated system and there was nothing I could do---or that he would do---to fix it.

There in the music store, I started storyboarding a Telecheck music video in the fine tradition of United Breaks Guitars.

Part 2

After re-cradling the receiver (have you slammed down a phone in the last 11 years? … MUCH more satisfying than pushing an Off button), I returned to the old-fashioned, wooden cashier cage and summarized for the lady inside the one point or two that she might not have overheard of my emphatic telephone discussion.

She looked at me for a moment and my daughter cradling the almost-hers oboe, and said, “Let me see that check. I’ll be right back.” She soon returned and said, “No problem. May I see your driver’s license?”

Less than 10 minutes later, my daughter and I walked out into the sunshine with her new oboe ... proud to be valued customers of Chuck Levin’s Washington Music Store.

I know we are … I’m writing this post, and my daughter has the oboe and an unexpected, free Washington Music Store T-shirt that she wore to school the next day.

A customer is not a process; he or she is an opportunity. Try delighting one, and see what happens.

This saga begins with me standing at a Starbucks counter repeating in an incredulous voice what the server had just told me, “The Wi-Fi isn’t free? I have to buy a Starbucks card first?” Nodding sympathetically with a wry smile, she agreed and then said in a conspiratorial whisper, “But it’s free down the street at Panera Bread.”

I was in the midst of a 238-mile journey home on a Friday night at 8:20 PM with a pending online task to complete, but I left.

I was willing to pay for coffee, and maybe a pastry, and possibly something else … but I was not going to pay for Wi-Fi. It’s like having to pay for napkins: “Napkins available for free with your $15 Starbucks card purchase.”

I drove down the street to Panera Bread, parked, shouldered my laptop case and hurried to the entrance. A colorful sign on the glass entry door caught my eye, “Free Wi-fi.” I bought coffee and a chocolate pastry, and began working. Just before the 9 PM closing time, I completed and emailed the revised file to my coworker across the country.

From the customer experience perspective, Panera Bread's free Wi-Fi was a true customer benefit: easy, free, non-intrusive. Starbucks' misguided attempt to force customer "loyalty" and stickiness derailed a potential customer into the welcoming arms of a competitor. I used to think, "Coffee = Starbucks." But now I've been taught, "Coffee = Panera Bread (+ Wi-Fi + food)." For a company centered on serving coffee, Starbucks now has nothing left in the equation to draw me in the doors again.

A few days later, I was traveling again and needed some coffee. I drove into a shopping center, past Starbucks and into an open parking space in front of Panera Bread. Shouldering my laptop case, I pushed in past the cheerful “Free Wi-Fi” sign on the door, ordered a coffee, a pastry and a sourdough soup bowl lunch, and clicked through the latest online commentary as I ate.

Caught again.

Never allow “Never done that before” to define your customer service. 

I nearly dropped my phone, but defaulted to a question (thanks Peter) and kept the conversation alive. I was working on printing a new business card layout on staples.marktheworld.com and had trouble with the design tool; the View Proof button showed me a shifted design compared with my on-screen layout.

So, I reluctantly called the Need Help number and, in less than two rings, April answered and asked how she could help. Less than two rings direct to a live, helpful human ... nice. But it gets better ...

She had me try a few ideas. Didn't work. I'm not comfortable with ordering. April then offered to shepherd my order through production and asked me to call her back once I'd ordered online. I did so, she brought up my file, inserted a proof request, said I'll receive it for email approval by tomorrow morning at the latest, and managed my expectations by reviewing the production and shipping times with me. Then she said to call again if I had questions after seeing the proof and asked if there was anything else she could help me with. Thanks, April.

Have you delighted a customer today?

Want to know your Web site’s pain points? Just ask. How effective is your frontline phone team? Just ask. What would make your product a market leader? Just ask.

Or are you too scared of the answers? You might have to do something, change something, invest in something.

What percentage of your staff is dedicated to gathering and handling all this free market research? How many levels must a customer with a complaint claw through before reaching an empowered employee? How many “Press 3” phone tree labyrinths before a helpful, authoritative voice answers?

You can tell a lot about a company and its viability by its customer disservice approach.

But back to the free market research … your customers will also prioritize your response. Just listen. They’ll define the problem, describe a solution and prioritize the need. It’s up to you to immediately act on the Must Do’s, address the To Do’s before they fester, and regularly toss in a Delighter to do just that.

Google Wave launched to a select group, who immediately tore it apart and responded with a list of improvements. Sometimes those improvements are termed failings, shortcomings, obvious missteps. Bypass the sticks-n-stones language and appreciate the insights. The Google folks now have a prioritized action list from an expert group of engaged customers.

Go ahead, I dare you. Proactively ask your customers for their advice.

It’s free … crazy as that might seem.