From the dry deserts of Las Vegas to mean streets of Ottawa

Everyone Tom, Dick and Mary talks about it. From one-man outfits working out of their aunt Helen’s basements to multi-national corporate giants that span continents, they all profess it. Customer service is their middle name.

Oh really?

If it’s worked into their marketing spiel, it must be true. Laugh it up Madison Ave ad weasels — you got us good. Sadly, even more commonplace than these golden carrots held tenuously over the slobbering consuming masses are the stories of either poor customer service or a complete lack there of. Of course, this is nothing new. Entities like the Consumerist would not have flourished, if this wasn’t the case. On a daily basis, there are countless posts about blue ribbon cases of poor, I mean horrendous adventures in customer service. Indifference is the ultimate sin, a disregard for relationship building can end even the best whirlwind consumer/merchant love affair. Are you listening Bell Canada? Don’t go snickering Rogers and Royalbank Visa…you are ass to me also.

While stories, posts and blogs about shitty experiences are rampant all over this thing we call the internet. This ain’t one of them. You heard right. Zappos, ready your upper back/shoulder region for full patting action.

I recently made my first purchase on zappos.com — before I begin, here’s a back story (that may or may not add any insight). At the tender age of 12, I was diagnosed as a sneaker-freak…prognosis…negative. It’s a life-long battle. My mom cried and we stopped attending public events. But with hard work I was able to finish school, find a steady job and eventually found a mate. Good things.

OK, back on course, so I heart shoes and I have attempted to buy some online without much success thus far. With the advent of the online shopping experience brought a plethora of retailers ready to take my hard-earned cash money, most of them American — no surprise there. I found out quickly that Canada is a shipping no man’s land like Puerto Rico, Hawaii and Alaska. Usually I had to pay extra duties and shipping that made the entire buying experience lose some luster. So footwear aficionado meet zappos.com, online merchant meet disposal income. Their website was well built, categorized in a orderly fashion, great user feedback for sizing/fit and don’t even get me started about their search. Let’s just say that it had me at ‘men + 9.5 + hightops’. While I breezed though its diverse catalogue, the actual buying screeched to a halt upon check-out. Damned by my Canadian address, I decided to ring them up for a taste of their self-proclaimed legendary customer service skills. They are after all, Powered by Service™, it’s true. That’s their slogan. Big red flag in my books. Service could very well be the e-commerce engine they use or the name of their catering truck. A marketing trick no doubt. And the site was loaded with customer testimonials. Another red flag. Anyone can throw empty testimonials around. Watch.

‘Jumboshrimp was fast and courteous when they fixed my septic tank. I recommend them for all your sewer related needs.’
Denise
Housewife
Albuquerque NM

Wasn’t that easy?

So I dialled them up — ready for some mass confusion and annoyance. I got Dolores within 2 rings. Two! I wish that everyone could get a dash of Dolores in the lives. I asked her if it was possible to pay with a Canadian credit card but then have the item shipped to a my sister in Connecticut (who would be visiting me in a few days with shoes in tow). Surely that would grind the entire operation to a dead-stop! ‘No problem, sugar’ was her answer. I liked her calling me sugar. Usually I didn’t, but it felt nice. Within minutes my transaction was complete, Dolores repeated every detail to assure its correctness, including free overnight shipping and a free 365 day return policy. As in no charge — zilch.

While waiting for the email confirmation to drop into my mailbox, Dolores and I chatted about the weather (snow in Ottawa vs. sunshine in Las Vegas). I told her I was there 5 years ago for business, she invited me back to see how much things have changed. It was a delightful exchange. Short and friendly. The fateful email arrived, my order has been shipped is says. Sure it has I thought. I know about the status games you online entities play. I would be ecstatic if the shoes arrived within 5 days. Finally Dolores and I had to part ways. She asked me if there is anything else I needed assistance with. I told her I loved her. Seriously. She laughed and then gave me a most genuine salutation I have ever received in my entire telephony history. One pair of crisp white hightops later, Dolores become family.

Dolores, you are a testament to the Zappos credo. A real pleasure to deal with, Zappos you hold on to this woman, youhearme? So now, when I am ever greeted with a smug indifference across a counter or a telephone I calmly state. You….are no Dolores.

The following morning , I received an email from my sister saying that a package has arrived. Mind boggling! I made the order at 9 pm EST. It arrived at 8:30 am EST the following morning. Does this make sense to anyone? Does Zappos have access to some sort of teleportation technology? This is the norm evidently, Zappos didn’t make up their testimonials. I believe. I believe. It was secure, and pain free. All the things you want in an online buying experience. If only buying mortgages and insurance, or a donut for that matter was so delightful. Make it happen people of Zappos.

Since the 2 weeks that I the shoes arrived, Zappos has launched a Canadian version. It has only a quarter of the inventory and there are shipping fees. Not too impressive, but I am sure they are working on its improvements as I type. But if you pick up the phone, you still win the customer service lottery that is Zappos. Friend of the consumer near and far…

Important: I have no personal or financial affiliation to Zappos.com and or its employee-extraordinaire Dolores. I was more than ready to be utterly disappointed by this buying experience. But I have to give praise where it is due. Zappos talks and walks like a duck. Indeed.