Personalized, Friendly Service, Where Art Thou?

Personalized, friendly service, that's what I like. But it seems society decided personalized, friendly service should go the way of other social dinosaurs that made America great: drive-in-movies, car-hops, "'til death do us part,"' prank phone calls, and real country music, just to name a few. Let me give you some of examples of what I'm talking about.

My younger brother went into a certain hardware store near his home in Daytona Beach, Florida. He walked in and noticed that the only other living human being in the store was the sales clerk who, with nothing else to do, was standing behind the cash register, twiddling his thumbs.

Within view of the clerk, younger brother began scanning a wall of items in search of a particular device, a device which he failed to find. The clerk observed the trouble my brother was having with his search but made no effort to help him. Younger brother stood by the wall and waited for assistance. He waited... and waited... and waited. Finally, younger brother went over to the clerk, looked the guy in the eyes and said, "Do you think you could help me?"

The clerk responded, "Do you have a number?"

On another wall, by the front door of the store, was one of those digital readout do-hickies with pull-out paper stubs containing numbers on them. I'm sure you know the drill. A customer walks over and pulls the paper stub out of the dohicky, and when that particular number is lighted on the readout screen it's that customer's turn to be served.

Now, normally, this is a procedure used by very busy retail outlets to insure that people are served in the order they enter the store, preventing people from butting in line just like they did in the cafeteria at school when they were younger. That in itself is a sad commentary on society. But let's not digress.

Younger brother, with sarcastically over-exaggerated movements, looked left, then right. He then looked at the clerk and said, "There's nobody in here but you and me."

"Sorry," replied the clerk, "I can't help you unless you have a number. "

Younger brother walked over to the ticket machine, pulled the paper stub out, and the digital readout on the machine lighted up the same number that was on his ticket.

The clerk glanced at the machine and hollered, "Number 97, may I help you?!"

Another fine example of the lack of friendly, personalized service in society happened sometime back. And it's an example most people can relate to.

A few years ago, I ran up a hefty medical debt. I called one of the medical facilities that treated me to see about working out monthly payment arrangements. What happened next would have made Mother Teresa swear.

I dialed the medical facility's main office number. A pleasant, albeit recorded, female voice came on the line and told me if I was using a touch-tone phone push one, so I did. The same pleasant voice then said if I spoke English to push the number nine button.

After pushing the number nine button, the pleasant voice came on again and told me that if I was seeking information concerning bla, bla, bla, I should push number one. But if I was seeking information about my bill I should push the number two button. I pushed number two.

I got the same pleasant female voice. This time she told me I had three options. For information concerning bla, bla, bla, I was to push number one. For information concerning the collection of my bill I should push number two. Number three was for "other" and heaven only knows where that would've led me. Once more, I pushed the number two button.

Again, the lady with the pleasant voice came on the line. But by then, I didn't care if the woman with the pleasant voice was the sweetest old lady in the universe. I desperately wanted to reach through the phone, wrap my frustrated hands around her neck, and strangle her! Figuratively speaking of course.

Anyway, she told me that if my last name started with a letter between A through E I was to push the number one button. I did. A phone on the other end of the line rang, several times actually. Finally, it was picked up and I heard, "Hi, this is _____. I'm not at my desk at the moment, but if you'll leave your name and number I'll call you just as soon as I can." ARRRRGGGH!

Oh, how I long for the good ole days of personalized, friendly service. But I'm doing my part to resurrect those good qualities. Just phone me and see if I don't sound amicable and happy on my voice mail. And if you leave your name and phone number, I might actually return your call. Hey, it's the least I can do to improve the quality of service in society.