Customer loyalty

In our post-Thatcherite days it would appear that customer loyalty counts for very little with some businesses.

As customers of a certain oil company for the past sixteen years we certainly didn't expect special treatment - indeed the repeated bargaining over prices to have them reduced from initial quotes should have warned us that we were regarded simply as a cash supply system - but a little customer care might have been nice.

Our ancient oil tank has no gauge and the top is rusting beautifully. To check on oil, I climb a step-ladder and plunge a bamboo into the depths to try and work out how many weeks or days worth we have left, it's a technical task! The prolonged cold spell in this new year has caught us unawares and so, two weeks ago, I called to order some oil - at over 50p per litre more than it cost us when we first moved here - explaining that we only had a few hours worth left and would run out that evening.

I finally accepted that the company was busy and wouldn't be able to deliver for another ten days; after all, I should have climbed that ladder sooner. One rival company could deliver 48 hours beforehand, but I stupidly believed our supplier when they assured me that they would do all they could to deliver to us earlier than the estimated delivery date.

It's been a little chilly recently and this old house lets in the odd draught,(easterly gale), but we persuaded the offspring to wrap up warm and came to believe over the Easter holiday, that any temperature in the house that was in double figures was totally tropical. By last Thursday it had become unfunny - there is such a word! - and I called the oil company at lunchtime to seek reassurance that our delivery was on its way that day. 'Yes, madam.' It didn't arrive, the excuse being that the driver had run out of time - for a customer of sixteen years who had been without fuel for ten days.

Two further conversations informed me that our delivery would arrive the following day. Friday's excuse? 'The driver had to go to an emergency top-up, so couldn't come to you.' So someone with fuel already in their tank takes priority over someone with none? There was no answer, only an assurance that fuel would be delivered yesterday, some thirteen days after ordering. By early afternoon, I had that sinking feeling and called again. 'On his way, madam.' At the end of the day I returned to find a message on the answering machine, '..had to go to a top-up, will try again...'.

After a fortnight with no heating, our house is absolutely freezing. At eight o'clock this morning I called an alternative oil company, found that delivery couldn't be until next week, but could be at 5p per litre less than I had been due to pay. The dogs barked as I picked up the 'phone to call our regular supplier, about to assure them of our discontinued custom.

The dogs continued to bark. Today, two weeks after ordering it and being given repeatedly lower priority than households with oil in their tanks, the oil tanker was here at a time in the morning that I had previously been told was impossible for delivery; the driver anxious that the Jack Russell might nip his boots. 'You'll be fine,' I told him, willing the terrier on in his defence of the territory.

I won't hurry to pay the bill. I have drafted a letter to the managing director and we won't be using this particular company again. 

It was only relatively recently that I vacated my slot in the business world in an environment in which the customer was king. If I, or my team, made an error or we had a less than happy customer, apologies would be made instantly and everything done to ensure that the disgruntled person went away feeling that the world was a better place and that they were top dog for the day.  It's a successful company and that is probably one of the reasons why. A simple lesson that other firms would do well to adopt.