Service with a Smile

I'm not happy today. Not happy at all. Why? Because I hate bad service with a smile. Let me explain. A week ago I went online and in a fit of madness I ordered 3 CDs from Amazon Prime. Now normally, everything goes to plan and I am amazed that just seconds after hitting the order button, there's a knock at my door and standing there is a breathless, smiling man holding a small, brown, cardboard pastie in his hand. Excellent, impeccable, brilliant, almost worrying service.

Not so last week... I ordered that unbeatable album, 'Peter Gabriel Plays Live'. I did have an old tape of this superb collection of 70s prog, but I felt I needed to upgrade, in a moment of decadence. A few hours later and there was that knock at the door. It had arrived. I hurried to my CD deck, ripping open the packet.

And this was when my problems started. I stared, at first, in anger, then horror, then disbelief and finally, in acceptance at my prize: 'Peter Gabriel Plays Live HIGHLIGHTS.'

Highlights? I won't say what I said, but it wasn't for delicate ears.

Highlights? What had they missed out? I feverishly checked with my tape. 'In the Air' was not there. One of my favourites. Drat. Rats. How could they?

Ah, but never mind... Amazon have their returns service. So, back to the computer and ten minutes negotiating the swampy grasslands of returning something, printing out labels and writing a message why the product had not measured up. I managed it... eventually and sellotaped the offending CD back into its cardboard pastie. Highlights indeed.

Amazingly, just three hours later and there was a knock on my door. More smiles and the envelope disappeared back to Amazon's Dunfermline warehouse.

Then an email beeped into my message box asking me to complete an after-sales survey on how 'we had done.' I could not fault them. True, all the questions were deliberately weighted. It had most definitely, been impeccable, friendly service. And lots of smiles, to boot. 5 stars down the page. But not one question on my reasons why I had had to use the returns service in the first place, which was a bit galling.

Next day, there was a knock... you get the picture. I was amazed. Brilliant. Now that's what I call service. 10 stars this time. I tore open the package and.... nooooooo.... you guessed it. 'Peter Gabriel Play Live HIGHLIGHTS' again. More bad words, with bottom lip quivering this time. How could they? What was happening up in Dunfermline? When would I get to hear 'In the Air' again? All these unanswered questions.

Back to the computer and along the well-worn trail of the swampy, returns service. This was getting worryingly, easy. My message of discontent was now in block capitals, just to make sure.

Two hours later and there was...

Three hours later and my message box beeped...

Nest day, there was...

Another cardboard pastie (my third) was handed to me with more smiles. It was the same delivery man. He asked if he should wait, this time. I laughed hollowly.

I stared at the package with anxious loathing. I no longer wanted to hear 'In the Air'. It would simply remind me of this terrible time. I didn't even want to open the package. Maybe best just to bin the swine and move on. Listen to Britney instead. Anything...

I reached down, pulled the convenient, little tab and looked inside.

I pulled the CD out and...

As you can see - MASSIVE difference.