A Tale of Superior Customer Service

Today I want to share a situation that I recently endured with a most surprising outcome.

I visited the Roads and Maritime Services, previously known as the RTA.

Now, my personal experiences attending the RTA have been those of frustration, impatience and impending doom. The room, washed in the light of a thousand iridescent beams and the pale green carpet and walls, chosen carefully by a psychologist to encourage visitors to maintain calm at all times. One side of the room is lined with cubicle jockeys while the other side of the room is a row of black, pleather office chairs.

The RTA was a kind of a place that you could check out any time you liked, but you could never leave. Oh the hours in my life I have lost in that place, holding a ticket in my hand, begging for my number to be called. Eventually, as I watched men’s afternoon shadows appeared, my number would be called, and I would shuffle up to the window, where the lady would take great pleasure in telling me that I was missing one component, say my Great Grandfathers original bill for his horse and buggy, and to come back tomorrow with it. Then I would flee, weeping.

I found the people who worked there and the general public to be most unagreeable, in the RTA.

BUT…

Things have changed my friends, oh how they have changed! Goodbye RTA and hello to the RMS.

On entry you are greeted with a spotless space with a real, live person who greets you with a cheery acknowledgement of your actual existence, before enquiring what your business was with the RMS today. I tell her, I am here to renew my licence.

“I am here to renew my licence,” I say and she jumps up and down with joy, before pressing a button¬†which causes balloons and streamers to be released from the sky that spits out a number before telling me to take a seat on an inviting looking sofa. No sooner that my ass hits the cushions, my number is called.

I look around to see if I am being pranked, but it appeared legit. I make my way to a very smiley found lady, who was having a bit of a flirt with her co-worker. I feel like I am at a super friendly bar! I tell her that I am here to renew my licence.

“I am here to renew my licence,” I say and she¬†squeals with delight, reaches over the encounter to embrace me gives me a form to sign, takes a photo of me looking extremely grim because you are not allowed to smile anymore, despite being in the happiest workforce in all the land. The girl then tells me that my licence is discounted due to a good driving record. I spend the difference in my mind immedialty. Then I am wished a very good day. On leaving I am asked to fill out a Customer Satisfaction Form, of which I left a glowing tribute.

Speaking of Tributes, meet Ken.

Well, in my experience Ken, me being the customer, I did feel like I was the centre of the whole entire universe! Jog it in Ken, jog it it.

So there you go, good people of the internet! A positively mundane, cheery story from an unexpected source. This is not a sponsored post. Just credit where credit is due.

When is the last time you experienced superior customer service?

Feel free to give them a shout out!