Stories indexed with the term ‘customer service’

In it for the Money: Time with AT&T (Part 1)

Editor’s note: This column appears regularly in The Chronicle, roughly around the third Wednesday of the month. 

David Erik Nelson Column

David Erik Nelson

This installment of the column will be published in two parts. Mostly that’s because Nelson wrote too many words this month.

Listen: I’m fully aware that a healthy, employed man in a functioning industrialized democracy kvetching about his phone service is basically the canonical First World Problem.

In my defense, this is illustrative kvetching; c’mon, it’ll be fun!

I have AT&T for my home phone and high-speed Internet service. In September last year this service took a nose dive; suddenly my Internet connection would suffer hours-long periods of dropping, negotiating, reconnecting, then dropping again – a process that I could readily monitor, since my phone line was now so lousy with modem whistles that I could hear little else (although callers could hear me with crystal clarity, which made me sound somewhat prematurely demented as I hollered for them to speak up over all the damn noise). [Full Story]

Column: Comments, Complaints, Condiments

You say “tomato” …  I say they’re gross.

dinty-moore-sandwich

#4 Zingerman's Sandwich – the Dinty Moore: Corned beef, lettuce, tomato, Russian dressing on rye bread.

But it is a fact of life that others have deemed tomatoes to be a tasty treat. They’re included in various standard salads, soups, sauces and sandwiches. Take a sandwich from Zingerman’s Deli, for example, the Dinty Moore (#4):  Corned beef, lettuce, tomato, Russian dressing on rye bread.

I’m almost certain that a sandwich artist properly trained in the culture of Zingerman’s customer service would enthusiastically build me a tomato-less Dinty Moore.

But I do not want to be served such a sandwich.

I want that sandwich served to me the way the sandwich designer conceived it – with a tomato. I can then alter the sandwich to suit my individual taste by manually removing the tomato.

Why not just order a tomato-less sandwich and avoid the tomato traces that are inevitably left behind, no matter how aggressively the corned beef is blotted with a napkin? Because I want the option – up until the very last possible moment – of leaving the tomato on the sandwich, or restoring the tomato to its proper place atop the beef.

Those trace tomato flavors on my sandwich remind me that I still, apparently, dislike tomatoes. But maybe someday, it’ll occur to me that, Wow, that tastes terrific, I should put that tomato slice back on the sandwich!!

I’d like our readers to think of the public commentary we include in The Ann Arbor Chronicle’s meeting reports the same way I think of tomatoes. We include the public commentary, just in case you decide that you’d like to have a bite.

So let’s go back a year ago, to a tomato still preserved in The Chronicle’s archives as fresh as the day resident Jim Mogensen picked it. He was talking about video recording equipment to be installed in Ann Arbor police cars.

And yes, I’m going find a way, by the end of this column, to connect video recording equipment in police cars to Zingerman’s sandwiches. [Full Story]