Survival of the Fittest—er—Richest…or Most-Educated…

It started back in grade school for girls with twin day and for boys with who had more items in their Hot Wheels collection. We didn’t want to be the one who stood out in dumpy clothes or as the idiot who couldn’t answer Mrs. Jones’ times table question. In middle school, it got even worse. Now we couldn’t enjoy the simplicity of matching our best friend down to the same scrunchie—we had to dress like our friends without actually seeming like we were trying to look like each other. And boys, don’t pretend you didn’t do this too—“Thomas got the new N64 game, and I NEEEEEEED it. TODAAAAAAAAAY” (insert whining and crying and begging on the floor here). Once we got to high school, this little thing called competition became a little more defined, even though in reality it was around since the wee years of our existence. At this interesting life juncture, many of us flat-out manipulated, dictated, and finagled our way to being the best in a variety of different things—athletics, academics, popularity, attire, and, if you were “lucky” enough to attend a high school like mine, how much money your parents made and furthermore bestowed upon you in the form of a Benz, the latest and greatest from Abercrombie and Fitch, and extravagant spring break vacations (luckily, I did NOT fall into this, ahem, financial category, so was spared the drama).

A lot of us I would presume, myself included, believed that the ridiculousness of competition would fade with age. As I delved into college culture, however, I was soon met with the realization that competition does not weaken at all but rather evolves with each life stage into something increasingly more annoying with each new dimension. Because in college most of us were too poor to worry about material goods, we focused on getting the highest grades, scoring the best professor recommendations, and landing job opportunities right out of school. Within the college mumbo-jumbo era many also begin to transition to the next arena of life where the competition gets even stiffer—The Real World. This is where most of us in our 20-somethings land today—and it’s brutal out there. Girls start rallying for the biggest diamond in record time and guys for the best positions at work and the ability to buy rounds of drinks for buds at the priciest hotspot. We are suddenly surrounded by circles of friends who care more about your annual salary and designer handbag than the wine they are drinking with good company. Conversation becomes calculated and questions pointed—meanwhile, if you stop and stare for a moment, you can almost see the wheels turning and thoughts of “luckily my house has more square-footage than that,” and “my husband would never cheat on me like yours does on you” practically beaming from the top of their heads. House parties turn from a parade of booze and hookups in days of old to a showcase for amazingness and one-upping others in the social circle—via imported furniture and the latest beverages from Napa’s finest and most exclusive wine club no less. “So-and-so lost his job” and private satisfaction with being the first to share this information abounds since the tattler maintains a cushy position in their own company. This is competition at its finest, Mean Girls at its peak. Most people our age would agree that a small dose of competition is healthy and even beneficial in pushing us to reach farther than we normally would, but in taking a step back and realizing where we have actually taken competition, we see that the entire concept is down-right ridiculous.

Is this a new phenomenon? Not at all. If nothing else, competition in this sense has actually improved over the decades. Remember the class system? Aristocracy? Social events to do nothing more than socially promote? Competition is absolutely not novel in our society, and it would be foolish to think that this very common part of life would one day subside. What I do think, however, is that 20-somethings need to chill on the constant attempt to out-do and focus more on the important things of life. We do not live in the 1800’s, and the class system is for the most part dead—we should keep it that way. Margaritas on this fine spring day anyone?

Customer Service:10,000 B.C.-~A.D. 1990. Beloved Stress-Reliever and Source of Happiness. RIP

          As 20-somethings, we were born in an age where customer service for any company’s success was number one. Managers still went to great lengths to cure an unsatisfied customer, and gas station attendants wore large smiles on their faces at the thought of pumping your fuel. Over the course of the past two decades, however, I don’t think that I’m alone in saying that customer service has dissipated to a rare but appreciated pleasant surprise rather than the norm. Today, what we see pervasively are non-commission-based employees who find it difficult to use a calculator and even more challenging to provide any particle of assistance and self-checkouts at the grocery store that repeatedly tell you “We’re sorry; your card cannot be read” and “Please scan your item again” in annoyingly dramatic computer-generated tones. More and more you hear not of just self-righteous older individuals who have too much money for their own good refusing to give their business to organizations that have poor customer service, but of people our age—in the fun-loving and carefree 20’s—who walk out of restaurants before paying the bill and decline to support stores where employees sport bad attitudes.

          The rise and wonder of this century’s technological blast has decreased the need for service employees—no more teens to pump our gas, fewer grocers to help us check out our items, and less need for detailed information about a product since hey, you can always research the product via Google before making a decisive purchase. Employees have noticeably gotten lazier, less knowledgeable about what they are selling, and oftentimes downright put out by having to assist their customers. While the age of advancement has brought about a substantial amount of ease in our daily lives, can a computer really replace one-on-one attention from an actual human being? And what has happened to customer service as a whole?

          With this topic I can’t help but think about some of my all-time favorites in the area of poor customer service. Last year when the lover and I embarked on the tragically boring task of buying a refrigerator for my new house, we stared in disbelief as employee after employee spotted us pondering the giant black, overpriced Samsung and, all kidding aside, literally ran in the other direction, pretending to be busy or not see us at all. After about 20 minutes of this ridiculousness, I sought out a friendly-looking girl in the television area for some assistance with the refrigerator quest. I was met with a look up and down, a smirk, and a “I obviously don’t work in appliances”—No kidding. Although I’m not the type of person to report to a manager, I was irritated enough with the refrigerator-dubbed buying day and the impossible task of purchasing one without the help of an employee that I decided to finally take the plunge and complain. The manager, no older than myself, also smirked and gave me an answer that lost Best Buy $2000.

          As for restaurant service, where do I even begin? No one minds slow service, but negligent service is another matter. Recently, lover and I went to an up-scale Beverly Hills hotspot. This “hotspot” didn’t get our drink order or water until we had been there for over 20 minutes and had already asked several people for menus. When we finally got our meal, there was a large fish scale in one of the dishes, which was choked on. The manager never came out to apologize, and when approached, rudely asked us what he should do about it. It was obvious that the restaurant took no concern over whether we had a satisfactory experience or not. Offended and completely turned-off to the restaurant, we left in a fury and with the intent to never return.

          I’m personally weary of faulty machines that have replaced phone tellers, lazy and rude employees, and managers who feel that losing a customer here and there is really no big deal. The quality of service has not gotten better with the rise in technology; it has allowed people to not provide the same service they used to because machines are expected to pick up the slack. I, admittedly old-fashioned in certain areas, firmly believe that no electronic teller can replace a living, cognitive individual--please note the italicized word here.

          So what does constitute good service? Some commendable examples include Zappos.com, who provides free overnight shipping and returns, 24-hour customer service with friendly and, get this, knowledgeable staff; Ebay, who stands behind their policies 100% and rarely disappoints; and yes, even the rare restaurant. Let me give you an example: when you go to a famous chef’s eatery and he not only comes out to wish the birthday girl a happy day but also takes the time to sincerely talk to each individual and get to know where they are from, what they do, and how they enjoyed the food and service experience, you know you don’t care as much about how the food tastes anymore. Providing several desserts on the house for the entire party was a nice addition too, but not much sweat off a restaurateur’s back. These small gestures, however, gained Mr. Fabio Viviani a table-full of dedicated lifelong customers (check out Café Firenze in Moorepark to see what I mean).

          As a 20-something living in this world and this time, let’s continue to support the companies that provide good service and offer suggestions (read: complaints) to those who blatantly do not care about the customer or realize that it’s the public that keeps a business up and running. If you work in customer service, as many of us do in some way or another, remember that what ultimately matters to an individual is the quality of service over quality of product, that the simple concept of customer service is not a mute point in our sometimes overly-technologic society.