Deflated Interest

There was a time when, if you called the number on the back of your major brand credit card, I might have been the one to answer.

One random day, I pick up a call. The second I start the two-step verification, I can hear the fight in this woman’s voice. She’s shuffling papers on her desk or kitchen table, and I just know she’s getting ready to give me h*** about something. She’s got the same tone my own mother uses when she’s about to let a customer service rep have it.

A quick account check tells me all I need to know: her last check payment arrived a few days late, which triggered a $35 late payment fee. That, in turn, pushed her over her credit limit, racking up another $35 over-limit fee.

Yup. That’s exactly where this is going. And honestly? I’m not in the mood to fight today.

The moment she finishes verification, I don’t even give her a chance to launch into it.

Me: “Since you’ve been such a good and loyal customer for us, I’m going to go ahead and waive both the over-limit fee and the late payment fee. Looks like the mail was just slow, so your payment got here a bit late. You may want to consider paying online or over the phone in the future; never know how long the mail will take these days. So… what can I do for you today?”

There’s this sudden pause, like I’ve yanked the rug right out from under her.

Customer: “Buh… but… why would you do that?”

Me: “Because I’m a nice guy, ma’am?”

Stunned silence.

Me: “Anything else I can do for you, ma’am?”

She never did recover her steam.