
Over the last couple weeks, my experiences as a customer have been horrible. Not everywhere, mind you, because it's hard for the grocery store to make your experience miserable, but for the most part, it's been bad.
By now you all know the Marlin Travel situation. For those who don't, the Cliff Notes:
Four months of planning went out the window because our original agent couldn't get things done quick enough and without errors. Then the new agent came on, got things organized and ready to roll only to have the carrier pull out three months before our wedding.
Now, some eight months after we started the process, we finally received confirmation that all the rooms are booked and we are in fact getting married when and where we wanted. Of course, there are still hiccups like getting two different quotes for deposits, having three people giving us three different answers and all the while we're the ones being made to feel like assholes for caring so much about our wedding.
Super!
Experience #2 comes in the form of one of my favorite TV channels, The Score, who owe me a prize pack from back in October.
Long story short, I answered a multiple choice question on one of their shows, was proclaimed the winner of a prize and have yet to receive anything.
I've called, emailed repeatedly and called again.
Last week, someone finally emailed me back saying they'd look into it.
Today, I emailed her back again asking if she was planning to look into things any time soon.
What kind of response did I get?
First, I had to detail when and how I won, which I did since I have a sick memory for thing like that.
Secondly, once she did confirm my winning, I was asked for a mailing address where my prize could be sent. Being as I live in a tiny-ass town without home delivery of the mail, I gave my PO Box.
That wasn't good enough. I actually received an email that said, "We can't send prizes to PO Boxes."
Well that's all I have, so unless you're FedEx'ing it to my front door...
(That is exactly what I said in my email too!)
Now, I'm in the service industry and have been for years. If at any point along the way I was to make my customers experiences as annoying and challenging as these two organizations have made things for me, I would have been back in the Unemployment Line.
Maybe I'm an anomaly. Or maybe these people absolutely suck at their jobs and should get out of the Customer Service business.
With the warm, glowing personalities they have, a career in mortuary science would be a perfect fit since they all seem to hate living, breathing humans.
* * * * * * * * * *
Note: I understand the irony of posting a second piece on the same day as I wrote a "things will be becoming more sporadic around here" post. This is what happens when I get down to work early in the day and don't sit on the couch playing Fight Night or watching Food TV.
Monday, February 2, 2009
When Did Customer Service Become a Bad Thing?
Posted by
E. Spencer Kyte
at
5:27 PM
0
comments
Labels: Bad Business, Customer Service, Marlin Travel, Stupid People, The Score
Monday, June 16, 2008
On The Air with The Drunk Jays Fans

So there are these jackasses known as Drunk Jays Fans who have a little website where they claim to be smarter than you and more drunk.
They're definitely more drunk, but the smarter part is questionable.
Why am I mentioning some other site?
Shameless Self-Promotion!
They tape a podcast every Sunday night at The Score Studios in Toronto and last night, around the 30 minute mark of the program, an articulate, well-spoken and far less intoxicated guest joined the program.
Me.
The highlight has to be the Jack Handy-esque reading of one of my posts from last week. For a bunch of guys who have made no bones about their disdain for me, my writing and this blog itself, they sure did send a whole lot of free exposure my way...
Thanks boys... let's do it again some time!
Click here for the whole show - by the way, steer clear if you don't like the swearing...
Posted by
E. Spencer Kyte
at
4:14 PM
1 comments
Labels: Blogging, Drunk Jays Fans, Promotions, Publicity, The Score
Monday, March 3, 2008
The Picture Says It All
Until further notice, posts may be a little slower in appearing here on iBlog since I'll be trying to type with my fingers crossed.
The reason for my appendage bending is that earlier today I put the finishing touches on my audition/application for Dream Job #2, the position at The Score Television Networks as an On Air host I first told you about Saturday.
As expected, my brother was more than appreciative of the head's up on the opening and less than cautious in his optimism about being the successful candidate for this opening. From where he's sitting, the job is his; no others need apply.
He has, however, been kind enough to extend to me that should I fail to get in on my own merit - which, if things go according to what he believes is karma I will - he has offered to do his best to get me a job there too! Wow... thanks Pistol. You're so swell. Sorry, that should be swollen, as in your head you freak!
Anyway, nearly three decades of sibling rivalry aside, regardless of the outcome this is a big step. There have been lots of times where I have said I was going to put together audition tapes and just never managed to get off my lazy ass (Much Music VJ Search... twice!) and I have reversed that trend with this one. The demo reel is done and on it's way to Toronto as we speak.
From here on out, it's outta my hands. I've done my part and I did it to the best of my abilities. Now, we wait, fingers crossed.
Posted by
E. Spencer Kyte
at
1:59 PM
2
comments
Labels: Dream Jobs, Peter Kyte, Sibling Rivalry, The Score
Saturday, March 1, 2008
For Pete...
As noted earlier this week here on iBlog - yes, I've nicknamed my blog - I started job hunting this week for positions that are a little more relevant to the career paths I would like to venture down as I stand on the verge of 30.
In combing through the media job boards this week, I came across a posting for The Score Television Network. They're looking for On-Air talent. They are a sports network looking for on-air talent. Another way of saying that is "Hello Dream Job #2!"
Later today, I'll be sitting down in front of our digital camera and recording a demo tape to send in along with my resume, a program pitch that I was working on before I knew of the aforementioned opening and crossing my fingers. I'll also be wishing my brother the best of luck.
See, my brother was at the top of his class in the Radio & Television Arts program at Ryerson before he decided to walk away from it after his third year. School wasn't his favourite - it runs in the family - and he didn't need a degree to confirm his talents as a broadcaster. That was proven when he landed, at the time, his dream job, as a host on The Racing Network, a satellite network dedicated to horse racing. Sit and talk about horses all day, throw to a race from some track across North America, rinse and repeat. It was perfect. He was also hired as their lead guy, ahead of his friend and former classmate who finished the RTA Program.
Fast forward to today. My brother left the Dream Job years ago to pursue something even closer to his heart, racing horses on his own. It's a tough racket and he has done okay, but okay doesn't always pay the bills and keep you in the lifestyle you'd like most. So I flipped him the job posting.
If I'm being realistic, I know that pairing myself opposite my brother is a real-life David versus Goliath moment and I've got the slingshot. Sure there are loads of other people who will undoubtedly apply, but all I know is that Pete and I are both after the same brass ring and he has a better chance to grasp it. Some people would say I'm crazy for giving him the heads up, since it will undoubtedly diminish my chances at success.
For me, it was a no-brainer. He's my brother and he'd be great at the job. Better than me. And if I can make his life and that of my beautiful niece better in any way, that is what I am going to do. Even if it is at my own expense...
Posted by
E. Spencer Kyte
at
11:16 AM
1 comments
Labels: Dream Jobs, Emily Grace, Karma, Peter Kyte, The Score