I'm Awesome!

I’ve noticed a new trend among customer service workers, and I may be a Grinch, but I hate it.

            I’ve been making reservations for holiday accommodations, calling catalog companies or dining in restaurants and recently I’ve been confronted with preternaturally chirpy service workers. You know, the ones who praise “You’re awesome” when you are brilliant enough to know the full spelling of your own name. They’re positively rapturous when you actually have your credit card handy (it’s a credit purchase, is that so surprising??) And we’re automatically on a first name basis or worse, addressed as “you guys” (a peeve I inherited from my mother).

 It was bad enough when every transaction ended with “Have a great day!” when you know full well their idea of a nice day is getting rid of you as soon as possible. But this new telephonic sunshine doesn’t leave me with a professional image of them. I envision a Gen Xer, legs folded on their chair seat, ragged concert t-shirts, writing with a pen adorned with feathers, black nail polish. And that’s just the guys.

My awesomeness does not prevent the chipper ones from putting me on hold while they seek help completing a simple transaction. Nor does it dull the pain when an offer I’ve called to avail myself of has mysteriously disappeared from their computer; or when their terminal is slower than my first PC. Nor does it help when an overly long transaction is stretches further as they pelt me with the compulsory cross-sell as I try to finish the call. There should timed-out standards when the initial transaction tops a certain call duration, especially during prime work hours. Of course, in these days of remote call centers, it may be difficult for them to even know the time zone from which I am calling.

           No, I won’t FEEL awesome until they’re actually awesome: prompt to answer my call, old fashioned with manners and getting my business done efficiently. Don’t call me by my first name unless I tell you to; pick one item in my account to have me verify, not my entire curriculum vitae; and if you put me on hold, there better be something good in it for me.

In short, don’t say “awesome,” make ME say it as I’m quickly off to my next task.