My opinion is highly prized. The proof is that my email inbox is filled with dozens of requests for my take (shameless plug!) on all manner of topics.
A partial list of the dozens of organizations petitioning me includes the Nashville Sounds, the gas company, my grocery store, AARP, Vanderbilt Health, the Chicago Cubs, the hotel where we stayed in Memphis for my birthday, the Belcourt, PetSmart, AAA and CVS.
“Please take a moment to share your feedback,” begins one. “What did you (really) think of…?” asks another. “How did we do? Please let us know!” begs a third. Yet another appeals to my (imagined) desire to please others:
“We’d love to hear from you!” And one offers an incentive: “Give us your feedback (and you’ll be entered to win a …).”
What a needy bunch.
What the supplicants share in common is that I have engaged in commerce of one sort or another with each of them. And, for some reason that seems not too wise at this point, I have also provided my email address to them.
I might rethink that policy.
Not that the requests pose a great burden. But they would, if not for the fact that I refuse to respond. Or decline to respond, let’s say. It sounds nicer.
My position on commercial transactions is basically this: You provide me with goods or a service, and I will give you money in exchange. That should be the end of our relationship, until the next time I need your goods or service.
If the transaction is satisfactory, I will continue to do business with you. If it is not, I won’t. That’s how you can tell my opinion.
It’s understandable why businesses would pursue reviews that will be accessible to others. My cat sitter, for example, has asked that I leave a comment on the company’s business page. This is obviously so that other, prospective customers could read it and possibly decide to throw their cat-care business in the same direction.
I get that. I read customer reviews of businesses when I’m trying to sort out which one to choose, too.
But what I’ve found is, no matter how positive most of the reviews may be, somebody – and maybe a fair number of somebodies – has had a rotten experience that they report.
“Service was terrible!” they say of a restaurant. “It fell apart within days!” they complain about a product. “I asked for a service and never heard back!” is a not infrequent lament, and that might be the most damning one. It suggests the business doesn’t really care.
I take those negative reviews into account, but with varying degrees of salt.
No business is perfect in all its dealings. And the customer – unless it’s me – is not always right.
What puzzles me are the requests for feedback that would not be available to the public. Am I to believe that the businesses would really take my comments to heart if I had something negative to say?
Take my grocery store, for example. I am sorely tempted to tell them about my recent experience in which not a single cashier was available to ring up my purchases. “You can check yourself out,” an idle, not-to-be-bothered cashier who was about to clock out told me.
Her comment did not have the intended response. It ticked me off sorely, and I requested to speak to the manager. When he arrived 15 or so minutes later, he was similarly indifferent to my plight.
Is the corporate office likely to be any more receptive? Are they going to hire more cashiers? No. Their business model has determined that sufficient numbers of people are willing to perform part of the store’s function for free. My feedback won’t change that, so I don’t waste my time providing it.
But for any of those corporate types who happen to be reading this: You should at least offer a discount for people who check themselves out.
That’s my highly prized two cents’ worth.
Joe Rogers is a former writer for The Tennessean and editor for The New York Times. He is retired and living in Nashville.