The next time I’m tempted to blow off a customer’s complaint with a quick, thoughtless “I’m sorry,” I vow to remember a recent, sorry car rental experience.
I was in Las Vegas, picking up my rental car for a one-way trip across Arizona and New Mexico. I’d booked the car well in advance, but when I got to the rental counter at McCarran Airport, I decided it was best to use a different credit card than the one in my computer record. “Sorry,” the Budget rep told me, “but this is a one-way rental, so we can’t alter the contract at all.”
“Really?’ I persisted, “because you just added a second driver to the contract, and that apparently was no problem.”
“Sorry,” she said again without a hint of sorrow in her voice, “but that’s the policy. You’re returning in Albuquerque, and they won’t let us change anything.”
I was halfway across the Arizona desert when the oil light came on. I quickly pulled the contract out of my glove compartment and called Budget’s 800 number. “Would you like to extend your rental?” the customer service rep offered right off the bat.
Uh, no, I wanted to shorten my rental, turning it in one day early so I could get a properly maintained car. “Sorry, sir, but we can’t change the contract on a one-way rental. You’ll have to talk to the Las Vegas location where you picked up the car.”
I politely tried pointing out the flaw in this logic: She had just offered to extend my rental, so why couldn’t she shorten it? “Sorry,” she said again, “let me connect you with Las Vegas.”
Three customer service reps and three “sorry’s” later, I decided it would be easier to stick with my current vehicle for another 48 hours, even if the engine ground to a standstill from lack of oil.
When my business in Santa Fe was done, I waited dutifully in line at the Albuerque Airport to change the credit card on my rental. The man behind the counter looked shocked at the request. “I’m sorry sir,” he said, “but we can’t change the contract on this end. You’d have to contact the originating location for that. Would you like me to give you the phone number for Las Vegas?”
By my count, that made at least eight “sorry’s” during a four-day rental. And that was the moment I decided on a new policy for my own business: “Sorry” is now considered a dirty word in any conversation with a customer. We’ll never use the S-word as a kind of bored shorthand for “I’ve got more important things to do and I really just want to get you out of my hair.”
Just as we would never curse at a customer, we’re never going to say “sorry,” either — not unless we immediately follow up the S-word with another phrase that shows we really mean it.
Right now I’m thinking that phrase should be: “How can I make it better?”
I’m open to suggestions, on that, however. What do you think is the best way to indicate that “sorry” is more than just an empty word? Leave your thoughts below.
