I’ve never been to an airport that wasn’t busy. Leaving CPH
in order to fly back to the States recently was no exception.
My wife and I were flying out of the country via SAS and as we entered our terminal we could both see and hear the hum and hustle all around us. Determined travelers in a hurry
to start or end their journey. Airport employees deftly waving in and out of the crowds. The high electronic drone of endless announcements. All of these things and more cast upon a backdrop of gleaming tile, steel, glass, an a rainbow of instructional signage.
Full disclosure, I will admit that I hate waiting. I despise it. I have no patience for lines (note
that patience and respect are two different things). I have no tolerance for crowds. No room for wasted time. This feeling becomes compounded when traveling as there is always that rush of “hurry up and wait” associated with nearly every aspect of air travel.
My wife and I scanned our passports, printed our baggage slips and proceeded to the agent-assisted bag check.
As you might imagine the line was long, but was moving efficiently- at first anyway. Once the line snaked towards the counter a clerk began separating the many travelers into different chutes that then fed into a standalone bag check station with an individual assigned agent.
As you might imagine the line was long, but was moving efficiently- at first anyway. Once the line snaked towards the counter a clerk began separating the many travelers into different chutes that then fed into a standalone bag check station with an individual assigned agent.
Patiently, my wife and I negotiated the line and were directed towards a station.
Abruptly, and agent overseeing the station to our right powered down her machinery. A “Closed” indicator lit up on the screen above her as she walked away. There were 5 un-served
people still in her line. Most of who looked around in disbelief and annoyance.
As another assisting agent began to get those folks reassigned to an open station, my wife and I finally approached our agent’s station. Bags at the ready, we handed over our
travel documents.
The clerk, looking a bit flustered, glanced over the paperwork and then did something surprising; she handed it back. “I’m sorry I cannot check your bags,” she explained, “Anyone
traveling to the U.S. has to be asked specific security questions, and I am not
trained to do that.”
I looked at my wife, my eyes widened. As I looked around me still, I saw most of the 5 people that had lost their place in line still looking for assistance to no avail.
The word crawled out of my mouth before I could stop it. It was vile, it was elitist, and I felt guilty even as I heard myself say it, “Supervisor.” I looked up at the young agent.
“Pardon me sir?”
“Call me a supervisor,” I repeated slowly. My wife looked at me; also not believing that word came from my mouth. She tried to stop me, but I was already angry at the situation. “I am
not waiting in this line all over again.”
My wife and I again scanned the immediate area for a place to go that didn’t mean starting at the back of the line. After a minute or two we spotted another clerk that was
directing human traffic. “Hey she can’t help us, where do we need to go?”
He silently pointed us to another, longer, line.
It was at this moment the supervisor finally showed up. As we were walking towards the other line he called out to us, but my frustration had faded. It didn’t really matter to me anymore;
I just wanted to be able to get on my way.
“Sir is there a problem?” he called out.
Turning to face him he was already launching into his prepared speech, “You see sir your
president has deemed it necessary that we ask all U.S. travelers a direct set of security questions…”. The way the words “your president” dripped past his lips was venomous. It was clearly a subversive way to attempt an insult, or at least get a rise.
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The rest of what he said was a white noise. I simply stared, waited for him to finish and said, “Yes your clerk already explained that. What I don’t understand is why we are standing in a section specifically reserved for people who are traveling to the U.S. to check their luggage and we get all the way to the front of the line, only to be told we can’t be helped. Who’s fault is that?”
The supervisor’s voice changed, it lowered, and the confidence of the canned diatribe faded. “It’s ours.” he admitted.
“Exactly.” I turned my attention away from him to indicate my desire to take the conversation further had waned. He strode away, hollering at another employee in the distance.
I’m sure some will see my response as overreacting, I would perhaps grant you that. I would also point out, however, if no one said anything there would’ve been many more upset customers who would’ve gone through the same experience.
This calls to mind some things I picked up when a great deal of my job was customer service-based. What is key for the supervisor (or anyone in customer service) to understand is as follows:
1. Upset customers are typically not seeking an explanation for what led up to a problem.
This is usually the time where customer service personnel quote policy and procedure ad nauseam amounting to the ”Why” of the issue at hand. Our time has already
been wasted, or we’ve already been inconvenienced, don’t add to that.
2. When a customer points out a problem, that should be used as a place to start an examination to fix said problem (or in some cases evaluate whether or not a problem
exists).
Is the raised issue a valid one? Could a process be done better, more efficiently etc?
3. Customers don’t want excuses.
Customers want it fixed along with an acknowledgement or maybe even an apology. With the purchase of a service, the expectation is that part of the fee is there to guarantee a smooth process.
4. Most importantly, customers don’t want your attitude.
We are not your enemy!
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