Maybe I just don't spot average Customer Service, but I sure as hell seem to remember service at the ends of the spectrum.
Small things matter, like the pretty young woman at the Macy's counter who called Anne "Miss" the other day. She could have charged double and Anne would have swiped her credit card anyhow.
Compare that against the coffee shop 5 minutes later, and the pain in the ass young Russian chick who after learning my name for the order, then did that annoying trait of using my name as if we were life long friends.
Would you like our Saturday Blend Richard? How about a bagel Richard? I'll just be 2 minutes making your crapacinnos Richard. Would you like a Border Coffee Card Richard?
How about "Would you stop calling me Richard, and shuffle your ass over to the JavaFuckChipKulaShakerTwatiato Machine and make me 2 cups of a disappointing concoction for $9?"
Last week Best Buy managed to delight and bother. My TV was slightly on the fritz, so I popped in and they were all rainbows and unicorns, printing out receipts, organizing a Geek, and giving me a reach around for taking out the extended warranty.
Cut to a few days later and it turns out Geek Squad should be called Passive Aggressive Douche Squad. "How do you know your HDMI is out if you're viewing everything in Component?" Maybe we're not using HDMI because it doesn't fucking work?
... Oh I can't be bothered to write about Chase. I realized I've probably spent more time on the phone with Chase this year than I have with my sister.
After 10 years I've dumped them for another card company who have already bugged me with their perky activation assistant.
Am I so hard to please?