04 September 2008

Phillips Magnavox, Belatedly

I received the letter a few weeks ago, but what with my myriad commitments, responsibilities, and flat out forgetfulness, I never slapped together this epilogue.
We remember my scathing letter to PM, posted herein, certain to raise the ire of their Customer Care equivalent and send them pleading, on bended knee, to please please forgive them, that they were sorry baby, they wouldn't do me wrong no more, no no no?
Not so much.
To paraphrase and summarize, the 3 paragraph, 66 word (counting 1 date and 1 phone number as a word each), accomplished the following:
  1. Thanks for Writing!
  2. Sorry you had a rough time of it
  3. Your new TV is on the way, according to our records.
  4. Need more help [HAHAHAHAHAHAHA - auth.] call us!
  5. Hey, thanks for telling us we suck, "Companies today are only as strong as their relationships with their customers."
  6. "We appreciate you!" [again, HAHAHAHAHAHAHA - auth.]
I take exception with the final point, quoted verbatim the closing sentence of this letter. My inner bad-American Consumer Hog is programmed to desire coupons or freebies for being so blatantly mis-treated (Hagerstownians, this is where we all say "Don't you know who I am?") by Mr. Big Bad Company. I try to ignore my inner stuff-pig whenever I can, though, so the issue here isn't entirely opportunism and greed, it's my desire for Justice.
Justice for me is for them to acknowledge their failure as a manufacturer and subsequent supporter of the good they've offered for sale. Not 66 words of half-hearted "woopsie!", typed out by some hourly wage-slave who was lucky enough to pull my correspondence from the pile of randomly distributed commentary received by their Customer "Service" Center, but fervent and honest acknowledgment by someone who at least has the word "Manager" in their job description, whose list of duties does not include the potential for having to lift up to 60 pounds. Justice is the faintest glimmer that my speaking up will allow them to not make the same mistake again, that my words will preclude another soul from having to endure that which I undertook.
Upon first reading this letter, almost a month ago, I was determined to craft a scathing reply, pointing out how they had completely missed the point of my correspondence; that their response had simply rubbed salt in the wound. It was for this that the letter made its way promptly to my desk. Where it soon became buried under other paperwork.
The balm of days and weeks and hours has largely soothed my ire, inasmuch as I am likely to bother writing PM another letter. I share because the hilarity is too good not to share, and I owed you, my 3 readers (hi mom!) a bit of closure, whether you realized you needed it or not. It's good for you. Like Justice.
And Television.

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