Blog Assignment 02: Customer Experiences

I’ve known Andrew for twelve years.  He has been an unequaled best friend, confidante, and – sometimes – partner in petty misdemeanors.  He’s someone who is an exception to the revolving door of people in my life.  I know will always be there for me and, on the fourth of September last year, he turned twenty-four. 

During the summer, while he was away interning in Dakar, he sublet the cozy room of his Boston duplex to a woman who turned out to be as considerate as a prison guard and as destructive as a category three hurricane.  She ripped his prized maps, cracked his printer screen, and dented his brand-new furniture.  But worst of all, she neglected to water his bamboo after agreeing to do so. 

Now, to understand the severity of this transgression you need to know that Andrew is a no-frills, utilitarian kind of guy.  Every object in his room has a function and a purpose – a reason for being there.  You would never gift him stuffed animals or snow globes.  As if mourning a loved one, the loss of the single decorative element in his room sent him straight through the Five Stages of Grief.  He was uncharacteristically dejected as he sighed into the phone, “You know, Natalie, this is why I can’t have nice things.” 

I listened, feigning disinterest, as I made my plan to have a lovely new bamboo arrangement sent to him on his upcoming birthday.  I had worked with Teleflora before and knew they took great pride in their Find-A-Florist business model whereby they call local florists to take care of deliveries, ensuring that the flowers arrive fresh and on time.  I got on their website and selected a masculine, yet elegant, arrangement of four tall bamboo stalks nestled in a bed of soft vibrant peat moss and adorned with smooth, polished black rocks, all planted in a shallow pewter dish.  It was beautiful.  It was dignified.  It was the kind of gift that lets someone know how much they mean to you. 

I have received flowers before and I still maintain that the flower delivery business is not about the flowers themselves.  I don’t care if it’s twelve long-stem roses in a Swarovski vase or a fistful of wild daisies tied with twine.  What you are really paying for when you order flower delivery is the joy of surprising your loved one, the chance to brighten their day with the unexpected.  No one really calls ahead to let the recipient know that, “Hey, uh, on Tuesday sometime between 2:00-4:00 a florist is going to stop by your duplex and deliver your birthday present.”  No one.  …Right?

The bamboo was promised to be delivered by the third.  September 4^th rolls around and I call Andrew to wish him a happy birthday and ask him how his day had been.  As the conversation closed, he still hadn’t mentioned that he received the gift.  Odd, I thought, given Teleflora’s commitment to punctual delivery but I decided to give them another day. 

September 5^th: Not a word from both Andrew (who is likely nursing an André-induced hangover) or from Teleflora.  

September 6^th: Labor Day so no deliveries by Teleflora.  Interestingly, Teleflora seems to apply this liberty to other days of the week at their discretion. 

September 7^th: The local Boston florist calls me personally to explain that they have not been able to deliver because no one is at the residence.  I explain that that cannot be possible.  “I know the recipient has been home all day.”  Still, they promise to try again the next day.

[Note: at this point I am getting a bit upset that Teleflora has abandoned their role as the middle-man.  The local florist is supposed to coordinate with Teleflora, not with me.  If I wanted to deal with the local florist I would have just ordered directly from them, and bypassed Teleflora entirely.]

September 8^th: Andrew calls me early in the afternoon to ask me about a phone call he had received saying that some flower company wanted to know when he would be home and that they had mentioned I had something to do with it.  At this point, the surprise is dead and I admit to him that I had ordered him a birthday gift and that they will finally be bringing it to his home that day.  He agrees to reorganize his schedule to wait for the delivery. 

Two days after Andrew finally received the gift, the local florist called me again to see when they could come deliver.  The ridiculousness of this phone call just blew me away.  How can they not know that the arrangement had already been delivered?  It seemed almost comical to me, like an amateur Abbott and Costello routine:

“It’s already been delivered.”

“Who delivered it?”

“I don’t know who.”

“Well, I don’t know who either so how do you know it was delivered?”

And then I received the same phone call from the Teleflora representative.  After explaining to her that the delivery had already been made (which made me wonder who keeps track of the deliveries then), I told her, calmly, that I was really dissatisfied with the service and that I felt Teleflora was at fault.  To be clear: I’m not the kind of consumer terrorist who flies into a rage in an attempt to score free stuff whenever something goes wrong.  But, damn it, I paid good money for what I had been made to believe was a premium service.  I wanted them to apologize at least and refund the substantial service fee. 

“Yes, that was quite a little mix-up we had.”  And then she laughed.  She.  Laughed.

“I don’t think your ineptitude is funny.”  Silence. 

And then, “Well, I can give you a 10% discount off of your next order with us.”

“I can assure you, ma’am, that there won’t be a next order.”

Although my experience with Teleflora is obviously a negative one, the importance of Strategic Experiential Models (SEMs) still applies.

Sense marketing appeals to the senses with the objective of creating sensory experiences through sight, sound, touch, taste, and smell.  Flowers are naturally a sensory experience.  They’re beautiful to look at on their own and much more so when they are tastefully arranged.  Teleflora’s website presents them on a clean white background with a powerful zoom option.  Looking at the bamboo, I could imagine running my fingers lightly over the soft moss and then picking one of the smooth, cool stones and rolling it back and forth in the palm of my hands.  The arrangement was visually arresting as well, the tall, sharp lines of the bamboo contrasting with the delicate curvature of the vase.  The prospect of buying the product excited me and I wasn’t even going to be the one to experience it post-purchase.   

Feel marketing appeals to consumers’ inner feelings and emotions, with the objective of creating affective experiences that range from mildly positive… to strong emotions of joy and pride.  Giving a gift makes us feel good.  Surprising someone with something you know is missing from their life is even better.  Teleflora was supposed to be my partner in the surprise.  They were supposed to help me create that moment of happiness and accomplishment.  To put it simply: “Your bamboo died and for your birthday I wanted to surprise you and make you happy so got you a new one and Teleflora helped me make it happen.”  Instead Teleflora compromised my surprise.  They ruined it and, worse, they didn’t even seem to care.  Teleflora is that friend you don’t tell about the surprise party because you know she can’t keep a secret. 

Think marketing appeals to the intellect with the objective of creating cognitive, problem-solving experiences that engage customers creatively.  The purpose of my purchase from Teleflora was to solve the problem of Andrew’s withered bamboo as well as to celebrate his birthday.  The gift would have “killed two birds with one stone” by fulfilling both needs for me.  However, what would have been a problem-solving situation became a problem in itself.  It was as if Teleflora created these miscommunications and left me to deal with all three parties: Teleflora, the local florist, and Andrew.  Furthermore, Teleflora’s lack of control over the situation and their inability to keep track of deliveries leads me to believe that the are likely to create more problems than to solve them.

Act marketing aims to affect bodily experiences, lifestyles, and interactions.  Flower delivery often has a romantic connotation, especially when between a man and a woman.  Indeed when I have told others about this experience with Teleflora, I’ve been asked if Andrew and I are “just friends.”  I often assume these people have never ordered flowers for someone else.  A quick visit to the Teleflora website and you can see how flowery delivery breaks down into so many occasions and interactions, from “Get Well Soon” to “New Baby” to “Just Because.”  This seems to serve as a reassurance; it says that this interaction between the sender and receiver is acceptable and will be appreciated.  For me, just the fact that the bamboo arrangement as a product existed seemed to imply that “No, it wouldn’t be overstepping the line if you to buy this for your friend.” 

Relate marketing expands beyond the individual’s personal, private feelings, thus adding to “individual experiences” and relating the individual to his or her ideal self, other people, and cultures.  My ideal self is a considerate friend who listens and tries her best to make others happy.  Teleflora failed me on this count especially because Andrew had to reorganize his busy schedule to make time for the florist to come deliver.  Something that was intended to be a pleasant deviation from the ordinary routine of his day became an inconvenience, an obtrusion.  It made me feel guilty for taking away from his time.  Teleflora also failed to relate to me through its people, an extremely important experience provider in the service industry.  Not only was the local florist as confused as I was but the Teleflora representative was unapologetic and seemed to not give my concerns the weight I thought they deserved.  Indeed, what most infuriated me was the Teleflora representative's audacious assumption that I would continue to buy from Teleflora despite such a pathetic service failure.  

Epilogue: Weeks later, I checked the Yahoo! email account I reserve for online purchases.  I never received the 10% discount off of my next order.