To the World Florist Association

Dear World Florist Association,

Some 7 or 8 years ago, I broke off a relationship for reasons I now do not understand.  That same person found his way back to me and we have been very blessed since.  He has calmed me, kept me composed, given me peace when I needed it the most, and tamed my potty mouth. His “level-headedness” is something I do my best to imitate.  He is quite an admirable man.

Imagine my giddiness when, three days before Valentine’s Day, he not-so-subtly checked if I will be in the office all day because something “may or may not arrive between 8am to 6pm.”

Imagine my suppressed laughter when, come Valentine’s Day, I can sense he’s forcing himself to stay awake until that something came.

Imagine my worry when his eagerness turned into anxiety, and then disappointment as the hours passed by and nothing came.

Imagine his frustrated tone when he finally admitted, the next day, that he picked out flowers for me that was supposed to arrive on V-day, and that he paid extra so it would arrive before lunchtime.

Imagine my surprise when he didn’t receive a notification from your company that the delivery was not made.

Imagine the tiny ounce of patience left in me when I calmly said, “Let’s see how they will apologize for it on Monday.”

Imagine my anger when you didn’t.

Allan never misses an occasion.  With almost 7,000 miles between us, he has made sure to never miss an event or an instance to profess his love for me.  (We long distance couples depend on these supposed convenient means to make our presence felt, just in case you are incapable of doing the math.)  So it all made sense when he finally admitted that it was the World Florist Association who did not deliver.

If he had not written an email about the non-delivery, would your sales team have informed him?  Not a peep, not a call, not a single PROACTIVE apology.  He had to tell you that you failed to do your job.

You did not even find it within the sphere of simple customer service and basic crisis management to just send the flowers immediately.  He had to wait for you to come up with it on your own.

You further insulted him, in my opinion, by throwing him a bone in the form of chocolates and a committed February 19 delivery.

A woman called at 3:30 pm today, confirming the delivery address and at the same time, assuring me that the flowers will reach me today.  It is now 10:00 pm and I am yet to see the shadow of the flowers my partner had lovingly picked out for me.

AND YOU STILL HAVE THE GALL TO CHARGE ALLAN FOR YOUR “SERVICE.” There is not a single soul in the business of complaints handling that would attest to your effective conflict resolution.  At least, not in this instance.

I could have done away with the flowers.  But Allan picked those out.  I want to see what he got for me.  He knows to pick exactly the ones I would love. He never misses an occasion.  But thanks to you, he has now.

I wanted to know at what level of disservice, dissatisfaction and inconvenience would trigger your tiny, tiny mind to actually deliver the product as requested as committed and also, grant him a full refund for every bit of trouble you’ve put him through?

Because given your poor comprehension of business ethics and the realization that you have not come close in making up for it — and my potty mouth ready to fire off at this very minute — a semblance of GENUINE, SINCERE, AND MEASURABLE APOLOGY IS IN DIRE NEED.

World Florist Association, sir, you are a cunt. You do not deserve his faith in your service, much more his money. You should be ashamed of yourself. Fucking give it back.

I am blessed with a kind-hearted man who will never talk down on anyone or make anyone feel bad on purpose. He will disagree with me on this, this email will lead to an argument, but I am not about to sit idly by and watch you STEAL HIS HARD EARNED MONEY AND CALL IT A QUALITY PRODUCT.

 
Absolutely never using your service again and OHMYGOD my LDR couple friends are going to so hear all about your assholery,
Me.

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Landmark = worst customer service

Before I blog about something fantastic,I almost forgot about this little thing that happened over the week.

I’ve scheduled my Plana Forma classes over the week and unfortunately, I forgot to bring clothes.  I guess that’s the pitfall of a new exercise routine; it needs breaking into.  So instead of missing the class (which will most likely form a very ugly habit), I decided to run to Landmark and grab a pair of pants and top to suffice for the day’s workout.

And the epic fail decision started there.  I know SM is no step up, but I should have just gone there.

The saleslady was so curt.  I weas asking for my size and I swear I saw her eyes roll at me.  I asked for a medium top.  Threw it in my hand.  I asked for a medium pant.  Gave it to me without even looking.  So in my head, hey, maybe she’s having a bad day.  I mean, I would too if I had to work through lunch, so I ignored it.

After fitting the items, I decided to get them.  Cheap but nice, will do for later.  Landmark’s practice is having an order slip filled out by the consignee’s saleslady.  But when I went out of the dressing room, she wasn’t there.  Waited for five minutes.  Nada.  So I went straight to the cashier, knowing that the cashier will call for her and have her fill out the order slip.

Then we waited at the cashier for FIFTEEN EFFING MINUTES.  Seryoso.  As in!  The bagger lady was calling her area, but no one was picking up.  So she sent someone to pick her up.  The wait took such a long time that the cashier started chatting me up, feeble attempts to make me comfortable.  When the bagger lady couldn’t handle the ringing, she ran to where that saleslady was.  When she ran back, she muttered, “Sus, nakikipagdaldalan lang pala.”

It.  Is.  Infuriating.  The next scene just played like this.

Me:  *not looking*
Saleslady:  Ma’am thank you for your purchase.  Cash or card po?
Me:  *still not looking, hands over card to cashier*
Saleslady:  *copies details of purchase in order slip*
Saleslady:  *hands order slip to cashier for processing*
Saleslady:  Ma’am sa susunod po, kuha tayo ng order slip para mabilis po.
Me:  In that case, *turns to her and does the Cherie Gil look (aka head to toe, brow raised)* next time din, huwag kang magtataka kung bakit dito ka nagtatrabaho at kung bakit yan lang ang responsibilidad mo dito.

BAM.  FIERCE.  The entire counter was silent for a while and I swear I saw her tear up.  In my head, it’s so simple!  You are a saleslady, so take care of every potential sale.  I’ve been to customer service and I was not ever that crappy.  Come on!

Of course I felt horrid right after I said it, but I said it already.  No need for me to play angel when I clearly meant what I said.  It’s just sad when the simplest of tasks cannot be performed. 

Wala lang.  I just now know for a fact that I can’t speed shop at Landmark. SM Makati na lang (note the specified location).  There, I just say I’m in a rush, so can you find me this this this in this size and this color.  Fifteen minutes and I was out of there.  Sa Landmark, fifteen minutes, wait period pa lang.  Anu ber.

So there.  Customer service is customer service.  If people can demand so much from their government workers and employees, then maybe these people should also demand the same from themselves.  Just saying.