Smooth Talkers

They say "actions speak louder than words". 

Unless, that is, you're talking about Customer Service. Today, many companies subscribe to the theory that if you merely use the right words, you can get away with just about anything.  Stupid Customer Service Jargon - the evil cousin of Stupid Corporate Marketingspeak - is everywhere these days.

Case in point: Jamba Juice.  Now, I'm a huge fan of Jamba Juice.  Their all-natural fruit smoothies are so refreshingly delicious, I'm even willing to overlook the cloyingly cute, pun-ridden product names ("Orange A-Peel!"...
"Berry Fulfilling!").

As for their service, well, let's just say it's mixed.  Sometimes, the person who takes my order is incredibly perky and responsive.  Other times, not so much.  Running noisy blenders and slaving over a wheat grass juicer all day is a thankless job.  So once in a while, I've been known to encounter a sullen, passive-aggressive Jamba Juice employee with something of an attitude problem. In other words, the service is about the same as any other franchise that hires young people, pays them the minimum wage and asks them to smile while performing menial tasks they feel are like, soooo beneath them.

I can deal with that.  As long as I get my Orange A-Peel with Energy Boost,
I'm a happy camper. 

But apparently, for the Powers That Be at Jamba Juice, good enough isn't good enough.  This is a company that is obsessed with Customer Service.  Or at least, the concept of it.  They've swallowed  the Customer Service Bullshit Jargon Kool-Aid - and they regurgitate the lingo every chance they get...whether it's on their cheerful, in-store posters or their a tad-too-precious website.

For a company that seems to pride itself on its "all-natural goodness" and worships at the alter of Authenticity, the Jamba Juice crowd spews some of the most artificial Marketing-ese anywhere.

It's all about the customer experience.  As they put it, "Our customers have always inspired our quest for the perfect product and experience."

You see, it's more than a job for these people.  They are on a quest.  I fully expect to see the "Don Quixote Impossibly Raspberry Dream" added to the menu any day.

The minute you hear the words "quest" and "experience",  you can be sure it will be just a matter of time before someone introduces the "P word"...passion.

Yep, here it comes: "We're downright passionate about improving even the little things."

And how do they harness that passion to deliver the perfect experience?  Simple.
Remember that mildly hostile teenager who took my order?  Well, he's not an employee.   He's a "team member".  On the Jamba Juice website, potential new hires are encouraged to "be part of a fresh, fun team that hands out tons of healthy energy...and a smile with every smoothie."  Or maybe you aspire to something bigger?  Like Shift Manager?  In that case, you can be responsible for "execution of brand excellence" (wow, and I thought you just had to be sure there were enough hairnets to go around).

The form letter from the franchise owner that's posted on the bulletin board in my neighborhood Jamba Juice says it all.  This letter masterfully blends every bullshit expression into three, deliciously cliche-ridden paragraphs. 

It starts, naturally, with "passion" and "commitment": "...we are very passionate about ensuring you have a great, consisistent experience each time you visit us.  We are committed to helping new customers through their first Jamba Juice experience." (Who knew you needed that much help ordering a smoothie?).

Then, they mix in a few "intentions":  "The expectatations and intentions we have for ourselves are high."

And, we get those all-important "team members" who are, of course, "empowered to make things right for you."

Next, they add a dollop of New-Agey positive energy:  "We intend for our store to have positive energy, through people, sights, sounds and smells." (A team member really needs to check out the positive energy in the rest room).

The letter closes with the kind of self-important nonsense that could only come from a company that regards mixing fresh fruit, vitamin powder and yogurt in a blender as a higher calling: "If we have made a difference in your life, please let us know."

I'll admit, a good smoothie has occasionally  made a difference in my day.  But I've never known one to be exactly life-changing.

But that doesn't matter -  it's all about talking the talk. 

It's the same way my bank started referring to us as  "guests" instead of "customers".  No point getting all worked up because you're stuck waiting in a long line for a teller.  Customers get mad.  "Guests" get treated royally - and are grateful for it.  Thank you, Citibank!  It's just so darned considerate of you...so civilized.      I can't wait to get invited over to my branch again so I can wait in line some more and maybe steal one of those cute guest soaps.

Sure, great service would be nice.  But if you can't deliver the real thing, don't worry.  Just serve up some feel-good jargon and deliver it with a phony smile.  After all, it's the thought that counts.

Comments

[Aaarg!]

My sentiments entirely. It's curmudgeons like us that make places like Paris... stay real. And let's not forget the Pork Pie shops in half the rural towns in England.

[Marcie Judelson]

Thank you, Aaarg. It's nice to know that we curmudgeons are actually serving a purpose!

[Abilify]

Abilify is used to treat irritability and symptoms of aggression, mood swings, temper tantrums, and self-injury related to autistic disorder in children who are at least 6 years old.