Posted By
kaychin on
25 Jan 10, Mon |
Permalink
It's only Monday and I am already feeling quite depressed.
I just get this feeling that nobody likes me, especially service staff.
In fact, I think they hate me and find joy in making my life miserable.
Therefore, I must complain, complain complain.
Two weeks ago, I went to the Citibank Concierge service at Paragon to ask for two of my old and soon-to-disintegrate credit cards to be replaced.
The attractive and well-spoken staff happily made copies of my cards and my IC and told me that unless there was a problem with my signature, I could expect to get my replacement cards very soon.
Two weeks later, there was not a squeak from them.
So I went back to the Concierge again and to my horror, I was told that their system has found no record of my request.
"Yes, I checked, there is no record of your request. Did you sign a waiver form here?"
"I asked for replacement cards, what does it have to do with waiver form?"
And to make matter worse, the Citibank staff told me, that if I had made the application over the phone, it would been easier.
I couldn't help but to ask her, "So what is the use of this Concierge?"
No answer, just a blank stare.
(By the way, for your convenience, I have hyperlinked the Citibank press release on the opening of this new breakthrough concept. Click on www.citibank.com.sg/global_docs/prod/pr/231105.pdf to download the PDF.)
Not very intelligent or sleek right?
So I did the thing I do best and that was to insist that someone who actually knows something to call me.
To be sure, I also called their hot-line to raise hell.
An hour later, someone called, and apologized for the fiasco and promised to courier my replacement cards to me this evening.
While I was talking to that officer, another called about the same matter.
"Errr, Mr Tay, actually we did receive your application but we don't know why it was not processed."
But she said she would be checking and getting back to me.
At some point, I actually asked one of them whether it would come a day when I've deposited $100,000 and then for them to tell me there was no record of my money.
Needless to say, it was not amusing.
But Citibank is not the only one who treats me badly.
To be fair, since I named them, I will have to name the rest of the people who made me depressed and depressing.
High up on this list must be the call center at Comfort and Citicab.
Two years after I moved from my old address in Ulu Pandan, the first default selection whenever I dial for a cab is still that; followed by the second, which is another old place I used to stay until seven months ago.
Now someone tell me, when was the last time I booked a cab for or from either place?
And what will it take for them to change that?
Way up there, among the 'best' has to be Starhub.
I've called them at least three times before the launch of their iPhone services to say I would like to get it, so I can continue to be a super Hubber.
And did I get a call or a postcard or a letter to entice me to leap? Nope.
Not even I have lambasted them for letting my mobile and cable plans lapsed while they kept quiet and watched, while I paid the regular non-package prices.
Of course, these organizations are big and they have thousands of subscribers to look after, and it would be quite conceivable that sometimes, some unlucky people like me get overlooked.
If asking them to commit my likes and dislikes to their supercomputers is just too much to ask, may I suggest a simpler solution called the 555 Notebook?
Write it down somewhere for goodness sake.
Write it down like the spa that I frequent, where the managers have scribbled, in big red pen, on my record card, my special preferences.
Do it like the uncle at the DVD store in Ang Mo Kio, who made a note in my membership card, that I hate period dramas.
If these guys are really good, they can perhaps try to do it like the hawkers outside my house, who after three visits, memorized my eating habit.
But remember this, "Concierge is a big word, don't anyhow use it."
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