Service in Mérida
Part Deux
M O R E   E X A M P L E S   O F   M E R I D A ' S   C U S T O M E R   S E R V I C E   C U L T U R E

Some time back, I wrote a neurotic piece on the peculiar brand of customer service in this formerly white city. You can read about it here.

Since this was a year ago and many things have come and gone since then, I thought it would be interesting to re-visit the subject to see what, if anything, has changed.

I'll leave the grading process up to my 8 readers, as they peruse Yours Truly's recent shopping adventures; in particular, the quest for an original gift in that grandest of malls, the Gran Plaza.


This disgruntled client looks satisfied to have put her customer service complaints in writing... "Dear Sirs".
Mexicans are very aware of the power of letter writing campaigns and consumer boycotts

My favorite mall, where the air conditioning and the elevator are always 'fuera de servicio', and the stores are getting tackier by the minute - if you don't believe me look at that swell new shoe shop with the plastic 29.99 (pesos) chairs, the raw plywood on brick displays and the handcrafted flourescent green cartulina sign about 10 inches across scotch-taped (!) to the middle of the main display window - has two new places, islands actually so they don't qualify as actual stores, that do personalized clothing, as in stitching your name or logo onto a cap or polo shirt or whatever. Being in the market for such an item, I approached the first isla, which shall rename mainless, next to World Games at the second floor entrance to Sears.

I stood there a while, watching the muchacho trying hard to not look at me as he sorted some papers, arranged some clothes and generally ignored me. Finally, my patience was exhausted and I asked him if there was some sort of pre-arranged manner in which to draw his attention; in other words, was he going to help me or at least say hello.

To which he replied in an offended tone of voice "How was I supposed to know you wanted anything?"

This was too good to pass up so I answered "Usually when someone stands in front of your place of business, the human (as in not a chimp) thing to do is to say good morning/afternoon or whatever, can I help you. At least a basic hello."

"Lots of people come and stand here while they wait for their kids to finish playing in World Games" he replied indignant that I should be so stupid as to not know this obvious fact of that particular corner of the business world at the Gran Plaza Mall.

After telling him that he was a complete imbecile and wishing him luck in his future business endeavours, I mentally cursed the mother that abandoned him on this planet and headed over to the other place in the mall that also shall rename mainless, but for your information (take it as a warning) it is located between Moy and Laser Storm, also on the mall's second floor behind the cheap lipstick island where everyone samples the lipsticks, eyeliners and so on, unaware or uncaring of the fact that 300 other people have done the same thing with the same lipstick and the eyeliner. "Gee, I wonder where this cold sore on my lip came from?"

As I approached this charming business called Trasfermania (not transfer but trasfer) - oops I named them - oh well - I noticed one person (male) chatting with a) a friend or b) a client and another supervising the little Pfaff sewing machine that was noisily stitching yet another clever Yucatecan logo onto an imitation (of course) polo shirt. This supervising individual (also presumably male) was displaying the newest craze in equipment supervision strategy; stringy-haired head down (perhaps listening intently to the machines vibrations?) on the marble countertop and eyes closed. He opened his eyes briefly and the obvious fact that he had had no sleep the night before almost made me feel sorry for him. I said almost.

Again, as in the the other isla, I stood there awhile. When nothing happened and no-one moved, except for the hungover individual who, obviously worn out, turned the other cheek, presumably to be able to sleep better, I simply gave up and left.

Moral of the story? Don't get anything embroidered at either of the two islas in the Gran Plaza unless you are armed with infinite patience or have adopted the local ni modo attitude and nothing affects you any longer because you don't expect anything better anyway so what the hell.

The Good Guys  (top)

Yes, there are some establishments with consistently good customer service in the Cultural Capital of the Americas. They are hard to find, but once you find them, frequent them often and let them know you are happy with their effort. By good customer service I don't mean that I want someone to fawn all over me when I enter the business and pretend that he or she is happy to see me, like Sam's Club lastest attempt to get their sullen-faced, stony and disgruntled personnel to acknowledge their customers at the cash registers. I think Sam's doesn't pay their employees at all - in fact I think they don't have employees; but rather they are using people from the Young Offenders program, where instead of going to jail, they have to put in a certain number of hours of community service at Sam's. Obviously there is no pay involved...

The latest attempt that Sam's Club has implemented involves a sign at the cash register stating that if the cashier doesn't address you by your name, you are entitled to a coupon for one pop at the refreshment stand on your way out, absolutely free. Many locals pretend not to hear the cashier mumble his or her name, so they can win that pop (oooh yeah!!!!), and little discussions ensue, as to whether or not you addressed me and am I not entitled to my free pop. Presumably the free pop reflects poorly on the cashier, so he/she studiously reads your membership card; then grudgingly mispronounces your name before taking your money. It is entirely spontaneous and heartfelt.

That is not what I mean by 'good service'. The sincere greeting, the smile, the lack of indifference is basically what good service is all about, a genuine desire to help the customer.

You can actually find really courteous, almost pena-ajena inducing good service at the new Office Depot, which is really surprising because back in the U.S. this chain is the monument to classic indifference! If you've ever visited an Office Depot in Florida, you know what I'm talking about. Black and white gum chewing trailer trash is the number one employee characteristic. But lo and behold, this gringo franchise, located in the building formerly known as the customer-hostile Collection and right beside another bastion of perverse American culture called Seven/11, the staff seems to have taken many courses in being nice to us, the long-suffering clientele and everyone, from the headset wearing security guard who welcomes you to the store, to the cashier who wishes you a happy day and actually looks you in the face while saying it, is friendly to the point of discomfort. We shall see how long this lasts, but meanwhile, felicitaciones are in order.

I'm fresh out. This was harder than I thought. You start to go through mentally, all the shops, stores, banks you've visited - and most of the people you had to deal with there are, at the very least, completely indifferent to you, the client.

send your nominations for good service to me here

 
 
 
 

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