Why do customers hate you? Let me count the ways...
OK, it's "whine fest" time. Two companies have pissed me off this morning, and both illustrate reasons why so many of us hold grudges against those companies who allegedly improve our lives with advanced technology.
First up is Olympus Camera. A year and a half ago, I bought one of their digital cameras and dutifully installed the accompanying software. Since then, however, I've upgraded to a new and better computer -- but I lost the original CD with the software.
Shouldn't be a problem, right? I should be able to go their website and download the software, right? And if I can't find it there, they should be more than happy to send it to me, right?
Wrong on all counts. Visit the site for yourself; even though they have a "support center" with a navigation tab clearly marked "software downloads," you can't actually download the software you need. Instead, after multiple clicks ever deeper into the Olympus mire, you simply get a "description" of your desired software -- a torment of the kind the Olympian gods (hence the brand name, I guess) imposed on Tantalus -- but no download option. And no indication of how to get the damned software.
I wrote to Olympus via e-mail and after a few days, I got a response: I'd have to pay $19.95 to get it. Nice. Stupid, too. The software is worthless to anyone except Olympus camera customers, so why punish them? What a great way to alienate customers.
Now on to my printer, a laser color job, which means that in addition to the drum, it has four expensive color cartridges that regularly need replacing. For some time now, the little LED light has indicated that the yellow cartridge is running low. But my "alert" software said that it was 13% full, so I should have had some time to spare, right? And if I'm going to print black-only pages, it shouldn't matter anyway, right?
Wrong again, dear readers. Oh so very wrong again. I tried to print a simple letter and received an error screen that said my yellow cartridge was empty and that I could not print anything -- and that includes pages without a lick of yellow in them -- until I substituted a new cartridge. To add injury to injury, I checked the alert status and found that I still had 11% of the yellow toner remaining. That means that when I pay close to $70 bucks a pop for the toner cartridge, I get less than 90% of the toner coming to me. By my lights, I should get a discount of around $7, but that ain't going to happen to me any time soon.
What will happen really soon is that I'll have to drop everything and rush to Staples to get a replacement toner cartridge, because I can't get any work done without my #$%^& printer.
There. I feel better now. I really do. The meds are kicking in...
First up is Olympus Camera. A year and a half ago, I bought one of their digital cameras and dutifully installed the accompanying software. Since then, however, I've upgraded to a new and better computer -- but I lost the original CD with the software.
Shouldn't be a problem, right? I should be able to go their website and download the software, right? And if I can't find it there, they should be more than happy to send it to me, right?
Wrong on all counts. Visit the site for yourself; even though they have a "support center" with a navigation tab clearly marked "software downloads," you can't actually download the software you need. Instead, after multiple clicks ever deeper into the Olympus mire, you simply get a "description" of your desired software -- a torment of the kind the Olympian gods (hence the brand name, I guess) imposed on Tantalus -- but no download option. And no indication of how to get the damned software.
I wrote to Olympus via e-mail and after a few days, I got a response: I'd have to pay $19.95 to get it. Nice. Stupid, too. The software is worthless to anyone except Olympus camera customers, so why punish them? What a great way to alienate customers.
Now on to my printer, a laser color job, which means that in addition to the drum, it has four expensive color cartridges that regularly need replacing. For some time now, the little LED light has indicated that the yellow cartridge is running low. But my "alert" software said that it was 13% full, so I should have had some time to spare, right? And if I'm going to print black-only pages, it shouldn't matter anyway, right?
Wrong again, dear readers. Oh so very wrong again. I tried to print a simple letter and received an error screen that said my yellow cartridge was empty and that I could not print anything -- and that includes pages without a lick of yellow in them -- until I substituted a new cartridge. To add injury to injury, I checked the alert status and found that I still had 11% of the yellow toner remaining. That means that when I pay close to $70 bucks a pop for the toner cartridge, I get less than 90% of the toner coming to me. By my lights, I should get a discount of around $7, but that ain't going to happen to me any time soon.
What will happen really soon is that I'll have to drop everything and rush to Staples to get a replacement toner cartridge, because I can't get any work done without my #$%^& printer.
There. I feel better now. I really do. The meds are kicking in...
1 Comments:
I would suggest you get a printer from EBAY like hubby bought me,for black printing only. It takes powder refills and lasts longer. It may look obsolete, but its a doozy.
Post a Comment
Links to this post:
Create a Link
<< Home