My actual dining room, crammed with stuff.

This is a bit of a long story from The Renovation Chronicles, so forgive me that. And I wasn’t sure whether it belonged on this blog or not, because it’s not so much about social anything as it is about good (and bad) business. You won’t hurt my feelings if you skip it.

But I’ve had *such* an adventure as part of my year’s worth of home renovation that I couldn’t resist sharing it. I think there’s a powerful lesson or two in it at the very end that I learned the hard way.

The Backstory

I have engineered hardwood floors in my great room that I purchased from Lowe’s and installed myself (with help from my mom) over a year ago. Most recently, I decided that it was time for the nasty carpet in the bedrooms to meet its end, and I wanted to carry the same floors from the great room into the bedrooms.

So, I headed over to Lowe’s to purchase the flooring. It’s worth mentioning that over the course of the last year or two, with all my house projects, I’ve spent many (many) thousands of dollars there. I had also decided this time to spring for professional installation. The original project was a bear, I’m about to start a new company, have a busy preschooler, and making the investment to have someone else do the hard work seemed like the thing to do. Since Lowe’s says they do professional installation, I figure why not kill two birds with one stone?

I asked the manager (who I was dealing with) about their contractors, how they vet them, how long they’ve been working with them, etc etc. I’ve had my fair share of experience with home projects, know enough of the basics, and my own dad renovated his entire house singlehandedly (yes, plumbing and electric too), so I considered myself a relatively informed customer who asked good questions. In fact, I had him remove some completely ridiculous charges from the installation estimate ($3.50 a linear foot to remove/replace baseboards that don’t need to be removed in the first place to install these floors?? No thanks.).

In either case, I was told that the floors would take about a week to arrive, then the contractor would call me to schedule installation.

Misfire #1

Ordering the floors was easy enough, but getting them here? Not so much.

First, Lowe’s calls me to schedule installation. We agree on a date and the infamous “window” of time. That time comes and goes on the day in question, and nothing. So I call. The guy puts me on hold, but not mute, while he proceeds to ask a bunch of guys around him if they know anything about my flooring order.

“It was just here yesterday, dude, right over there,” he says within earshot of the phone, “but now I don’t know where the hell it is and I can’t get ahold of the guy on the truck. It’s a huge pallet with a bunch of stuff on it. This chick is pretty pissed.”

Sigh.

Commence mumbling and shuffling, and they’re going to have to call me back. I hear nothing that day, and a second call goes unreturned. (Turns out that despite my verifying my number with them twice, some old phone number was in their system and they’d been trying to call it).

The next morning, I get a call from the store, on the correct phone. The guy is 10 minutes away from my house, found the floors, and wants to bring them over. Right then. Fine, I say (and cancel my plans for where I was headed). He shows up with a rental truck and a pile of boxes. I ask him to bring them inside into the office, but he says no, he’s sorry, they only do “curbside” delivery. So I have him bring them into the garage. Obviously that’s not good for wood, so I move them into the house myself, box by box (all 22 of them).

Misfire #2

Next, the contractor calls to schedule the installation…. 2 weeks later, the days before Thanksgiving. It’s not ideal, but hey, ok. Whatever.

They don’t call to confirm or anything, but thankfully they show up the morning as planned. The installer, wanders around the house and looks at the rooms. Pulls out the instructions from one of the boxes of wood (uh oh, this guy is a professional?). Puts a moisture sensor on one of the pieces of flooring. Then proceeds to declare to me the humidity of the wood hasn’t regulated to the humidity of the house yet, so he can’t install it. He even circles the section on the instructions and hands them to me.

I’m frustrated, as I’ve moved everything but the beds from three bedrooms into my dining room in order to make way for the installation. They couldn’t have come and tested this sooner? The delivery guy from Lowe’s couldn’t have explained this possibility to me before I moved all my freaking furniture? Installer guy explains that yeah, the store should have delivered the floors inside (no shit?). We’ll have to wait to lay them, sorry. He begs and pleads for me not to be pissed at him – he’s just the messenger after all (ha, ha). I’m keep my cool. Stuff happens, after all, right? I say fine, when CAN we do this?

We reschedule for two weeks later to give the flooring time to “acclimate”. I move a bunch of stuff back into the office – myself – so that at the very least I can maneuver in my house. I was supposed to host Thanksgiving at my house later that week, but I cancel that and we move it to mom’s house instead. It’s hard to serve turkey on a coffee table.

Misfire #3

Installation day TWO arrives. Again, no confirmation call, but they show up. This time, two guys (original dude and another one). They wander around the house. Open a box of flooring and peer at it. Walk into the bedroom. Walk back out again. All of this takes about 5 minutes. Installer guy summons an assistant manager from the store, who also shows up a few minutes later. I never saw them pull out an instrument of any kind (though I admit I wasn’t watching their every move, so maybe they did when I wasn’t looking).

The verdict?

“The humidity level in your house has actually gone UP since the last time we were here. It might be some of the rain we recently had or something.” Nevermind that it’s about 35 degrees outside, frigid, and that it’s so dry in here that I swear you could cure beef jerky in my living room. “But,” he assures me, “it’s too humid. So we still can’t install the floors. See this spot in your dining room where the wood is discolored? That’s because of moisture in the substrate, and the differential between that and the flooring is critical. If we install this floor, you’re going to have the same problem.”

Me: “Uh, no. That water stain? That’s from a bucket of water that got spilled on the floor, a juice spill from my kid, and one of the dogs barfing up an entire box of dog treats that she stole from the counter. The moisture got between the seams and discolored the wood. I was there when those happened and know exactly how those stains got there. And by “substrate”, do you mean the concrete slab under my carpet that you didn’t look at? What, exactly, was the differential anyway? ”

Him: “Oh, well, uh, see this part here that’s kind of springy? That’s from moisture, too.”

Me: “Actually, no. That section there? The concrete slab underneath is a bit uneven. When I installed the floor, I didn’t bother putting leveling compound down because it was minor and would have taken a while to dry, so I elected to skip. That bounce has been there since the moment I installed the floor. There isn’t an ounce of moisture down there, and the floor isn’t warped. Plus, I have a moisture barrier down underneath the entire floor.”

Him: “…. Well. It’s still too humid to install the floors.”

What? If the humidity in the house went up and the floors were in the same house the whole time…. anyway. I was not just frustrated anymore, I was angry. So, I turned to the Lowe’s store manager guy, who hadn’t said much of anything to this point. “So, then, what’s your recommendation for how to treat this “problem” that you’ve diagnosed so that I can get the floors installed? Can I have some specifics?”

Him: “I don’t know. I’m not a home inspector.”

Good grief.

I threw them out. Not very politely, I’ll admit. On the way out, I told the store manager that I wanted a refund for the installation, immediately. All of it.

Afterward, I went into each room and pulled the carpet back all the way to the middle of the room. I taped down a section of clear plastic sheeting with duct tape (which is a common way to check for moisture seepage in concrete slabs). I waited. I waited. As of this morning (24 hours later), not a drop of anything wet was trapped in there. Not one.

Saving The Day

I really was beside myself. Here I had an entire dining room full of furniture for the second time. I had flooring, but it was still in boxes. I’d wasted nearly two months from start to finish. I was in tears, frustrated, angry.

My friend Rebecca Otto then popped to mind. Rebecca and her fab interior design firm, Plank Interiors, has been helping me select stuff like furniture and paint for my living/dining room. So in desperation, I emailed her and asked if she knew anyone that could help me get these floors installed. She called within 5 minutes, and sent me the number for her flooring guy.

I called him, and he returned my call within 10 minutes. Not only that, but he could be here at noon the next day (today). He called to confirm when he was on his way, and showed up as scheduled.

The first thing he did was take a moisture reading of the wood floors themselves (I watched him do it). Perfectly normal. Then he pulled back the carpet and looked at the concrete, which was dry as a bone. Where Lowe’s readings came from, I’ll never know. I told him the long saga of what I’d been through, and he just shook his head. He offered a few reasons why a big box store would have given me such a load of BS, and none of them were very flattering for them (I’m so naive sometimes). He measured, scribbled a few numbers, and gave me a quote…. that was $150 LESS than what Lowe’s was going to charge me, AND he would move the furniture, the carpet, and install the baseshoe. Best part? He’d call me later in the day and let me know if he could start tomorrow, but for sure, Monday at the latest.

Day. Saved.

The Lessons

1. The new guy is a younger gentleman, running a small business. He was prompt, polite, honest, friendly and responsive. You can bet that (pending the outcome of course) I’ll be recommending him all over the place. The basic stuff matters. A lot. Namely, your reputation.

2. Established retail doesn’t mean reliable. Even when you complain. Even when they screw up. Even when you start off being nice and patient. Even after you lose your temper. Sometimes, companies just don’t care, no matter how big their brand, marketing slogans, or advertising campaigns. And hey big brands? You don’t get a pass on being assholes just because you’re bigger than I am.

3. Trustworthy networks of people you know are gold. There are good people out there. Word of mouth and referrals are still everything, with or without social media. Having a handful of people that you trust to ask for help means everything, especially if they have personal experiences or references they can refer you to. Thank you, Rebecca, for being my savior, and for recommending an amazing contractor (and I’ll be stealing a pile of his business cards to hand out like crazy).

4. If you’re a business, there is nothing more valuable that you can do than deliver flawless customer service from the get go. If you screw up, the best thing you can do is own it and FIX IT. And if you contract work out to other people, their reputation and performance becomes yours, whether you like it or not.

5. Do the research about the projects you undertake, including industry terms. Sometimes they’ll throw fancy words at you, presuming you don’t know any better about what they mean (most of those conversations are designed to get you to spend more money for them to ‘fix’ a problem that may not actually exist). Get more than one opinion or estimate. If you’re not comfortable, by all means have an experienced friend join you for appointments and to oversee estimates, installations, or anything else. If they give you explanations you don’t understand, ask them to explain it differently, or tell them that you’re going to research their answers before committing to anything. The look on their face will tell you a lot. If they encourage you to get other opinions or even recommend additional experts to help, that’s a good sign.

6. Unrelated to this specific project, but never leave contractors working unsupervised in your home. I had stuff stolen this year because I made that mistake when I was having my bathroom renovated. If you can’t be home for the project, schedule it for when you can be. And do pay close attention to the work that’s being done, or have someone experienced do spot checks. Get inspections for things like electricity and plumbing. You’re paying for it, and you have to live with the results. Correcting a botched job can be incredibly expensive.

So finally, nearly two months later, I may just have new floors in my bedrooms. YAY! Break out the bubbly.

Oh, and I called Lowe’s today to confirm whether my refund was being processed. The gentlemen said – tersely – that it was in process and that the “receipt was in the mail” (and hung up). I’ll be waiting. They sure won’t be getting any money from me anymore, and I’m sure I’ll tell this story more than once. I have a lot more projects yet to do.

So onward, and caveat emptor. The dining room may be full, but dammit if I’m not going to triumph in the end. I have a 2012 to conquer.

P.S. – If you’d like the name and contact information for either Plank Interiors or my new awesome replacement floor guy, let me know. 

P.P.S. – It’s only fair for me to mention that after I called and complained after misfires 1 and 2, the store manager did attempt to reach me “if I wanted to share the story with him personally.” I’ve yet to call him back because at this moment, I’m full of curse words, most of which I left out of this post. I have sent an email to store and corporate management, and may indeed return a call when I’ve collected my calm enough to provide feedback that’s actually useful.

A post from Brass Tack Thinking
Floors, Contractors, And Customer Service…Oh My.

“You’ll get a call about a survey, please give us that 5 star rating. That’s how we get paid, and get more work.”

This is a typical concept in this line of business (home improvement, or service based stuff). Perform a service, call the customer, and ask them to complete a survey asking how the service was so that you as a business can learn and improve. Seems like a fine concept on the surface, but this is where most companies – even well intentioned -botch this completely.

Encouraging Dishonesty?

Here’s the thing. The installers for the washer and dryer did a fine job. Nothing I’d consider above and beyond, but they got the job done and were polite and efficient. And unprompted, I very likely may have taken the survey, given them a good score, left a bit of feedback (forcing the door back on my laundry room scratched my new dryer, so they might want to watch that in the future), and gone on my way, honestly believing that I would be helping that business do a better job.

But the direct appeal for the perfect score – and the implications therein – pose a couple of problems.

First, if you’re only using your survey ratings to determine compensation or work for your guys, and you send them out there pretty much begging for a perfect score because their compensation depends on it, what are you really learning from me? If you really care about what I think, don’t you want to enable the truth, and honest feedback that you can then learn from and build upon?

Secondly now you’ve put ME, the customer, in the awkward spot of either falsely padding my response or choosing to be honest (maybe a 4 instead of a 5) and potentially negatively impacting the compensation of your perfectly competent installer. Of course, I don’t know what you *really* do with that information, I can only go by what your guys are telling me.

But either way, the score you’re getting is laced with all sorts of implications. And you won’t know whether you’re getting what I really think, or what the more kindhearted side of me would say so I can make sure this guy gets his next job.

Do You Really Want To Know?

If you’re asking for customer feedback, you’d better really want it. Otherwise? It simply corrupts the integrity of the whole process. And it makes you as a business look a bit lazy at best, disingenuous at worst.

The fatal flaws with most customer service and feedback programs? Twofold.

One, customers don’t believe you’re really doing anything with the information. We don’t trust that your surveys – or our input – are really put to use for much of anything. And for a lot of companies, that’s the truth. The survey gets taken, the results are reported, and then they’re filed on someone’s desk, the gesture of collecting being enough of an effort to say we tried. But it’s not good enough. We need to show people what we’re doing with the information they give us.

Two, if you’re using customer satisfaction survey results as the only indicator to create someone’s compensation or how many leads they get? You’re being lazy. You’re asking your customers to manage and evaluate your employees for you, and building paper thin reward systems based on partial information at best. Should it be a factor? Sure, if your feedback mechanisms are consistent and well considered. But your only tool? You can’t outsource turning a critical eye on your own business to see how well your people are performing. That’s your job.

What’s missing – truly missing – is making true customer input a desirable source of intelligence instead of a box that’s checked on an annual plan. It’s got to be something that’s done deliberately, the results of which are treated as valuable input (even when they’re ugly), critically evaluated, and applied to the business where they can make an impact. Faux customer feedback is a waste of your money and time. It’s a waste of our time and effort. It’s not telling you a thing that’s worthwhile.

Oh, and by the way? Begging and fishing for likes, tweets, votes, or comments is the same damned thing. It’s your job to make people want to do those things, unbidden. If you have to ask for it, you probably haven’t earned it. And if you aren’t getting it, I promise it’s not just because you aren’t asking. Just like the customer survey, if you want the click to actually mean something, you had better pay attention to what you did to acquire it.

Staying Vigilant

I know these aren’t new ideas. I know we’ve discussed them before.

But I’m still baffled by how many companies are making the gestures, but don’t really grok the point of doing all of this in the first place. Which always leaves me wondering how much our input, actions, and communication really matter. Are we destined to never really get past the surface here, surrendering to games and pandering for feedback just to say we got the five stars, the likes, the votes, the views? Or can we do better than this?

We’re making progress in this arena, I’m sure. I’d love to hear the stories of more of you that have experiences that show us the companies that are using customer input to better their business. Give the businesses that are lost a little bit of guidance to help them on their way. Take a frustration and turn it into useful and actionable alternatives. I’m all about that.

But at the moment, I’m still seeing the vast chasm between what customers need and what many businesses are willing to give. This kind of customer feedback counterfeiting? The lip service and the gyrations along with it? They all tell me that we really do still have a lot of learning to do, and a really long way to go.

photo credit: Travis Goodspeed

A post from Brass Tack Thinking
Creating Counterfeit Customer Feedback

I try really hard to be the “cool customer”. The one that’s not pushy, that isn’t demanding and bitchy, the one that doesn’t dicker over nickels and dimes and rolls with the punches when little things go awry, like schedules or backordered parts. I try really hard to be friendly, to be easy to work with, to be flexible and adaptable. After all, I’m both a customer, and someone who works on the business side and knows the value a customer that’s great to work with.

So why should I be penalized for that? But penalized I’ve been. Let me explain.

I ordered a custom vanity to be installed in my bathroom. Roundabout the last week in July, I placed my order; a vanity, a side cabinet, and a small countertop. Compared to some of the big, fancy orders they get for massive kitchens and palatial bathrooms, my order was really straightforward. The time I was quoted was about four weeks. Longer than I really wanted, but hey, it’s not buying stock stuff, so I’d wait.

Here, 7.5 weeks later, they showed up to install my vanity. a full three and a half weeks after they told me. No apologies, no explanations, no nothing. And I had to get pissed before they promised me a date, then they blew that date again by almost a week.

Why do we do this?

The more I interrogated my contractor and the cabinet folks, one thing became clear: The problem? I wasn’t a squeaky wheel. I didn’t bitch and complain after the first delay, or even after the second. I didn’t call every day and throw attitude around. And what they didn’t come out and say but that was definitely implied in our conversations? Other people made more noise.

They pushed and demanded tighter deadlines with more complex orders, and leaned hard on the company to deliver. They got cranky, and were difficult to deal with, so the cabinet guys wanted them done with sooner. And guess who paid the price? Me, the one who had tried to be easygoing. I was easy to delay, because I never made a fuss. Perhaps they figured I never would.

I’m drawing from this personal example because it illustrates something really upside down about the way we treat most customers.

We chase new customers with attractive acquisition offers and discounts rather than figuring out how to better reward our existing customers. Our customer service is built to be triage first, because the squeaky wheels get the grease, and they make the most noise to their friends (which means they have the potential to do more damage). And we wonder why people go running to the amplifier of social media when they need their problem solved? We’re reinforcing the behavior we don’t want by rewarding it with priority.

I know this isn’t an easy answer, because fixing mistakes usually needs to be the first order of business, and I’m all about owning it when you screw up. But I can’t help but wonder if we don’t create more “mistakes” for ourselves by simply neglecting the people that are easy to do business with because they’re easy. I wonder how many customer service and satisfaction issues like mine could be avoided, or at least reduced, if we put more effort toward taking care of the customers that are great to work with.

I don’t have the answer to this puzzler. With all things I’m sure there’s a balance. In my case, I’m sure I could have been more assertive about my needs and my displeasure at continually being pushed to the back of the line. Maybe I was too friendly and nice. I think that customers have a responsibility, too.

But are we spending so much time dodging bullets that we don’t have any resources leftover to serve the customers that make it a pleasure to come to work each day? Do loyalty and “preferred customer” programs get the job done, or are they tokens that don’t really mean much? Is the “squeaky wheel gets the grease” philosophy one we just have to accept as a part of doing business, either as companies or as customers? Do we value mitigating risk more than we do investing in the people that really power what we do?

What do you think? Is our customer service approach upside down? Do we need better balance, or is this the way it should be?

Can’t wait to hear your thoughts. In the meantime, I’ll be finding a new company to tackle my kitchen renovation…

photo credit: Andres Rueda

A post from Brass Tack Thinking
Consider This: Upside-Down Customer Service