The driver’s side rear turn signal bulb went out on my Expedition last week, so I stopped by the Ford dealership this morning to have it replaced.

I pulled into the service bay, parked, and went inside to the service counter. There, I met up with a service manager who, after establishing my need, said, “Let me get a star wrench and see if we can’t get you out of here quickly and save you some money on labor.”

“Wow!” I thought, “That’s great customer service!”

He removed the rear lamp assembly and handed me the burned out bulb, asking me to step inside to the parts counter to purchase a new one.

I complied, approached the parts counter, rung the bell for service, and waited. I could hear a man speaking on the phone on the other side of the doorway but, after waiting a full minute, was unsure if he’d heard the bell. Just before I hit the bell a second time, he leaned back into the doorway while tethered to the phone and said, “I’ll be right with you.”

After waiting another three minutes, I noticed a small selection of bulbs on display. I compared the product number of my burned out bulb to those of the new bulbs and found a match. Rather than wait any longer for the parts manager, I decided to return to my vehicle with the new bulb in order to relieve the service manager who was patiently awaiting the replacement bulb.

Within minutes of my return, the service manager had installed the bulb, attached the rear lamp assembly, and thanked me for stopping in.

When I explained to him that the parts manager was unavailable and I had yet to pay for the new bulb, he said, “Just bring it in to the cashier. You can pay for it there.”

I thanked him for his help and proceeded to the cashier. When I arrived, I was greeted with eye contact and a smile. I handed her the packaging for the new bulb containing a price of $2.89 along with a five dollar bill.

Puzzled, she asked, “Do you have a parts ticket?”

I said that I did not, clarifying that I had found the bulb at the product display near the parts counter.

She said, “I need a parts ticket in order to complete the sale.”

I told her that the parts manager was on the phone and I’d prefer not to wait any longer at the parts counter in order to obtain a piece of paper that would allow her to accept my cash payment for a $2.89 light bulb.

To her credit, she suggested that she could speed things up by personally obtaining the parts ticket. Two minutes later, she returned with the completed parts ticket and accepted payment. Next, she date-stamped and signed the ticket and provided me with a copy, finally completing the transaction.

I’ve bought $3,000 worth of computer equipment at the Apple Store in a fraction of the time it took me to buy a $2.89 light bulb at the Ford dealership—and with less paperwork! I’m not asking the dealership to adopt wireless point-of-purchase payment devices (although there’s no reason they couldn’t). But I am suggesting that management reconsiders the hoops customers must go through to purchase a simple $2.89 light bulb.

This story highlights an important truth about exceptional customer service: Protracted, cumbersome processes can undermine the goodwill established by competent, customer-focused employees.

And here’s the irony: Identifying competent, customer-focused employees IS THE HARD PART!

This customer service blog attracts all types, ranging from engaging customer service advocates to crotchety curmudgeons.

An advocate is defined as a person who speaks or writes in support or defense of a person or cause. Advocates contribute productively by offering supportive and, sometimes, divergent views on a variety of customer service topics with the intent to further the conversation.

A curmudgeon is defined as an ill-tempered person full of resentment and stubborn notions. Curmudgeons seem to relish in opposing seemingly benign suggestions to enhance customer service with the intent to expose customers as the calculating enemy.

You will recognize them by their attributes. For instance, curmudgeons:

• complain frequently
• can always tell you why something won’t work
• rarely, if ever, offer any type of solutions
• roll their eyes—a lot
• lower morale
• undermine productivity
• likely do not have a best friend at work (with the possible exception of another curmudgeon)
• devalue hard working employees by calling them goodie-goodies, brown-nosers, or suck-ups
• love to refute the platitude, “The customer’s always right” by recounting the story about that one customer in 2005 who was rumored to have planted a bug in his salad to avoid paying for his meal
• distrust customers; assume they are out to get something for nothing
• enjoy using labels such as “cheapskate” and “tightwad” and “difficult” to describe certain customers
• avoid going out of their way for customers by saying things like, “If you do it for one customer, then you have to do it for all customers!”
• justify disallowing exceptions, regardless of circumstances, by citing policy or precedent
• say, “That’s not my job.”
• are disaffected by telling customers “No” or “You can’t…” or “It’s against company policy”
• are suspicious of headquarters initiatives
• think they are above attending training classes
• have a false sense of competency about their ability to provide exceptional customer service
• feel entitled to tips, raises, or desirable schedules
• are unhappy in their present job roles but unqualified for positions of greater responsibility (Although some curmudgeons hold advanced degrees and are technically qualified for promotions, their negative attitudes hold them back.)
• watch the clock for their next break
• do just enough to get by
• can’t wait for their shifts to end so they can go home and complain about their coworkers and customers
• seem to forget where the money came from to buy last night’s dinner or their child’s last pair of shoes

I can say with confidence that every customer service curmudgeon who has left a blog comment at my website or elsewhere is, at the very least, conflicted. Here’s the proof: If these curmudgeons printed their blog comments and brought them along to their latest job interviews as reflections of their attitudes toward customers and customer service, they’d likely be unemployed.

But instead, what they chose to do during their job interviews was smile a lot and tout the importance of customers while responding to hypothetical questions by affirming how, when hired, they would “go the extra mile” and “do whatever it takes” to satisfy customers.

Although curmudgeons will gladly collect their biweekly pay and spend freely on food, clothing, transportation, entertainment, education, childcare, and other expenses, they will continue to openly resent the source of their incomes: paying customers. And that’s shameful.

It’s astonishing to me that these discontent employees appear to have no concept of where their pay originates. Just because their paychecks are drawn from anonymous out-of-state company bank accounts, doesn’t mean they originated there. In truth, their paychecks resulted from a customer who paid $4 for his latte or a customer who swiped a bankcard for her groceries or a customer who wrote a check to pay for his vehicle’s maintenance.

I’m sure I sound a bit like Howard Beale, the network news anchor from the 1976 movie, Network who, after an impassioned diatribe about the current state of our society, said, “I’m as mad as hell, and I’m not going to take this anymore!”

But that’s okay. I’ll continue to use this blog to recognize exceptional customer service providers, engage with advocates in support or defense of a position, and challenge curmudgeons to recognize their responsibility (something most curmudgeons try to avoid) to provide exceptional customer service.

Like Beale, I’d prefer not to stand by idly as the unfortunate current state of customer service becomes mainstream or, worse, acceptable.

I enjoy taking my family to On The Border Mexican Grill & Cantina. In fact, I look forward to it. The restaurants are clean, the food quality is excellent and the value for price paid is fair.

My wife, however, has one problem with On The Border. This single issue has caused us to choose competing restaurants on a number of occasions. Her problem: Servers consistently allow tables to become overrun with used side plates, chip bowls and salsa, sour cream and guacamole ramekins.

During college, my wife worked at her father’s restaurant and learned early on to never leave a table empty-handed when there were items to be cleared. By observing their surroundings and paying attention to detail, the most effective servers would spot discarded straw wrappers, empty appetizer plates or depleted breadbaskets. In this way, the dining tables were kept neat and orderly.

Servers at our local On The Border restaurant appear to be completely unaware of this protocol. With four children, the dishes add up. It’s not long before our table surface disappears behind a pile of used plates, dirty napkins and other clutter. Near the end of the meal, even if we had room for dessert, we wouldn’t have the space for it.

One of the benefits customers cite when justifying the added cost to dine out, is the ability to enjoy a dining experience they would otherwise be incapable of reproducing at home. My family is perfectly capable of producing a cluttered dining table at home. When we dine out, we appreciate an attentive server who maintains a clear table.

Sure, I could stack the used plates, move them to the side of the table and request their removal (I do this routinely at On The Border) but I don’t want to. That’s why I’m out to eat. If I’m going to accept responsibility for stacking plates and clearing table space, I’ll save my money and eat at home.

Restaurant guests appreciate being looked after—even pampered. Servers, by observing their surroundings, paying attention to detail and committing to never leave a cluttered table empty-handed, reduce table congestion and maybe, just maybe will make room for dessert!

What are your dining out pet peeves?

From time to time, I’m asked, “Is there a single attribute you’ve found to be common among employees who consistently provide exceptional customer service?”

I bet if you asked five different consultants, you’d get five different answers. But here’s my answer: initiative.

Service is a verb and, as such, requires action. The opposite of action is inaction. (If you’ve ever had to load your own suitcase in the trunk of a taxicab and then get your own door while the driver remained comfortably seated behind the wheel, then you know what I’m talking about.) Action is voluntary. A service provider chooses to demonstrate initiative.

The opposite of initiative is indifference. Often, employees are indifferent toward the needs of customers. Like the taxicab driver, they miss opportunities by failing to observe their surroundings, anticipate needs or display a sense of urgency. Opportunities to make lasting positive impressions on customers are forfeited—as is their loyalty and future sales.

To illustrate the attribute of initiative at work, consider the example of professional racquet stringer, Matt Previdi. The club where I play tennis recently hosted the Colorado Classic Pro Am Tennis Tournament. Due to the calibre of players, Matt was made available as an on-site stringer by SOLINCO, one of the tournament sponsors.

I happened to be at the club in the midst of the tournament and Matt, while stringing a racquet behind the tennis desk, noticed (verb) as I was adjusting my elbow brace and asked (verb), “Tennis elbow?”

I responded, “Yes. I’ve been dealing with tendonitis for the past seven months or so.”

He paused (verb) his work, stepped (verb) out in front of the stringing machine and asked (verb) to see (verb) one of my racquets. I complied and he began (verb) to test (verb) its tension by smacking (verb) it against the palm of his hand. After a few seconds, he determined (verb) that my existing strings and tension were likely a contributing factor to my tendonitis.

After asking (verb) a few probing questions about my style of play, he advised (verb) me to consider a string with greater elasticity to absorb more of the ball’s energy and suggested (verb) I reduce the tension at which I string my racquets.

As my hitting partner arrived, Matt offered (verb) me his racquet and said (verb), “Try my racquet today. It’s comparable in weight to your racquet and the strings and tension will be a lot easier on your elbow. Afterward, let me know what you think.”

Borrowed racquet in hand, my partner and I headed to the court. Later that afternoon, I approached Matt and said, “You were right! The combination of flexible string and reduced tension was much easier on my elbow. I wish I’d discovered it sooner.”

I then handed Matt all three of my racquets, asked him to cut out the existing strings (two of which were new sets of strings) and replace them with the recommended strings at the reduced tension.

Upon receiving my racquets, Matt said (verb), “Steve, I did (verb) a little scouting on your game and noticed (verb) that you tend to hit out rather than up. By reducing the string tension to relieve stress on your elbow, the ball’s going to have more ‘pop’ coming off the racquet. If you continue to swing out at the ball rather than up through the ball, you’re going to hit a lot of balls long.”

Amazing. Although he was swamped with requests to restring racquets, he had taken (verb) the time to watch (verb) me hit in order to verify (verb) that his recommendations matched my style of play.

If you’re curious, the cost for me to string three racquets was $111. Ordinarily, I string my racquets elsewhere. So, that’s $111 in added sales created (verb) as a result of an engaged employee taking (verb) the initiative to observe (verb) his surroundings, express (verb) genuine interest in the customer, and provide (verb) exceptional customer service.

I used to work for a general manager who was critical of our hotel’s food and beverage director because he had a reputation for rolling-up his sleeves and pitching in when the restaurant was slammed. Sometimes, he would seat guests. Other times, he would bus tables.

My GM believed that the reason he had to seat guests and bus tables was because he inadequately staffed the restaurant to service the forecasted volume of guests. That may be true but, as any operations manager can attest, there is a finite number of payroll hours to work with each period in order to stay within budget.

For this reason, many operations managers roll-up their sleeves and pitch in. (Believe me, this is a lot easier than increasing your department’s payroll budget.) Often, their motivation has less to do with being seen as team players and more to do with not exceeding their budgeted payroll hours.

Maybe my former GM was right and the F&B director scheduled inadequately? Or perhaps the F&B director did what he had to do to staff a restaurant with an inadequate payroll budget? I can only judge by what I can see: a line of guests waiting to be seated and a cluttered table that needs to be bussed.

Recently, my son and I were at Cold Stone Creamery. As a line formed nine customers deep, a single employee scrambled to accept, fulfill and ring-up orders. Meanwhile, a second employee was “working” in back in full view of customers waiting in line.

As the harried employee rang up our order, I motioned toward the employee in back and asked, “Is she available to help you out?”

He responded, “She’s a manager, so she has other things to do.”

Unfortunately, her “other things” didn’t have to do with supporting her staff or serving customers. Perhaps she feels as though she’s done her time working on the front line? Maybe she’s above it now that she’s a manager and, as such, should focus on more urgent managerial-type tasks like scheduling, procurement and budgets?

Or, possibly, none of those applies and she just missed an opportunity to demonstrate leadership and exceptional customer service by supporting her staff while reducing the wait time for her customers?

Most managers are classified as exempt employees who, because of their positional duties and authority, are exempt from the overtime provisions of the Fair Labor Standards Act. While managers may be exempt from overtime, they are not exempt from serving.

If you’re a manager, understand this: You will rarely have enough budgeted payroll hours to staff your operation the way you’d like to. Scheduling to service forecasted volume is fraught with trade-offs. And there will always be urgent tasks that require your attention.

The most important element to any operation is people: employees and customers. So, when you have the opportunity to serve either of them, do it. Right away.

Illustration: Aaron McKissen

Last week, my family and I visited my wife’s 90-year old grandfather in a rural Nebraska assisted living facility. Everett is remarkably lucid for a man his age. We spent time together in the receiving room and ate lunch outside in the garden before returning to his modestly furnished room.

While my children were sharing the pictures they’d made especially for him, I was drawn into Everett’s past while examining posted photographs of family and friends throughout the years. I imagined the country’s circumstances at the time of the photos: Roosevelt’s fireside chats, World War II, Vietnam, Watergate, the oil crisis… And then I realized that I remembered the long lines for gasoline during the oil crisis in the early 1970s and imagined where I lived and what I was doing in 1973 at the same time Everett was captured in a pose with his wife, Betty, now deceased.

About that time, my wife called for us to return to the reception area for a family picture. Julie and the kids went ahead as Everett, with his walker, and I trailed them down the hall. That gave us a moment alone and I asked him, “Everett, how are you doing—how are you really doing?”

He said, “You know, I drove by this place for years and I always knew I would end up here. Most of the residents sleep quite a bit. After dinner, most of them go right to bed and there’s no one to talk to. It’s lonely.”

After our family picture, while Julie and the kids were saying their goodbyes, I approached the main reception desk and asked for a business card so that I would have the mailing address handy when we returned home. That way, we could mail Everett copies of the photos as well as more drawings from the kids.

Upon hearing my request, the receptionist looked surprised and said, “I’m not sure where they keep those. Can you wait here a minute?”

She disappeared into the office of an administrator across the hall and returned a moment later with a business card.

Sensing a missed opportunity, I suggested that she prominently display the business cards—even drawing attention to them with a sign inviting visitors to “Please take a card. We all love to get mail!”

I realize that it’s easy enough to Google the name of the residence to obtain the mailing address—assuming you remember its name. (“I know it had the word ‘garden’ in its name… Or was it ‘terrace?’”) Even so, it’s much easier to follow through on your commitment to write and mail pictures when you have a physical reminder (the business card) that’s right in front of you.

The receptionist politely thanked me for my suggestion (I get that a lot…) and returned to her work.

As I said farewell to Everett, I told him that we’d be sure to write and mail pictures. He smiled and nodded. I couldn’t help but wonder how many times he and other residents heard similar promises from family and friends that went unfulfilled after they departed the sleepy facility and rejoined their busy lives.

How about you? Is there anyone you can think of, lonely or not, who would love to hear from you or your children out of the blue? If necessary, make the effort to locate their address and be intentional about reminding them that you care.