Think Customers: 1 to 1 Blog –
“Service with a Sneer”
by Kevin Zimmerman

Does poor customer service drive you crazy?

Yes, of course it does, why wouldn’t it? But what about customer service with an attitude?

That’s been the issue for me and my family for a couple of years now, at least when it comes to getting prescriptions filled at our local CVS drugstore. When our son began attending daycare a couple of years ago, you can imagine how many trips we had to make to deal with the various viruses and sundry sniffles that were being brought home along with his artwork.

The CVS seemed to be in chaos no matter what time my wife or I showed up there; misplaced orders and, once, a wrong refill seemed to be the norm, and the general air of frantic turmoil behind the counter didn’t exactly inspire customer confidence.

(For those of you unaware, CVS stands for “Consumer Value Stores,” though the company’s CEO, Tom Ryan, said in a 2006 interview that he prefers “Convenience, Value, and Service.” A rose by any other name…)

After one dizzying (and time-consuming) experience too many, I decided we’d take our trade across the street to the Brooks Pharmacy. I’ll admit that Brooks’ complete dearth of customers was a bit daunting, but anything had to be better than continuing to do the CVS Shuffle.

Right?

Well, no. I hadn’t yet been exposed to the chief pharmacist at Brooks, who physically looks like one of those kindly druggists you’d see in old movies like It’s a Wonderful Life.

Of course, that film’s Mr. Gower inadvertently put poison in a child’s medicine bottle. Mr. Brooks didn’t do that, but he had an attitude a mile wide.

(He’s not actually called “Mr. Brooks”; I just like the serendipity of giving him the same name as the serial killer played by Kevin Costner in the recent movie.)

Openly questioning the wisdom of prescriptions was only the tip of the iceberg for Mr. Brooks. On my frequent late-at-night visits, I’d be told that, no, the pediatrician hadn’t called in that prescription, and why couldn’t doctors these days pay more attention to what they’re doing, and he’s explained to them time and again that they have to call ahead, he can’t just be running willy-nilly trying to fill prescriptions at the drop of a hat.

An impressive screed, but after sitting through it a couple of times, I knew enough to ask him to check his voice-mail. Sure enough, there was the doctor’s message. Still grumbling about how doctors do things (he never called them “danged whippersnappers,” but I wouldn’t have been surprised if he had), he’d eventually fill it and off I’d go.

I say “I” because after a couple of run-ins with Mr. Brooks, my wife decided I was the go-to person for any and all prescriptions. I was sort of amused by the curmudgeon act, up to a point, but it did get me to reconsider just why Brooks Pharmacy was so devoid of customers.

Brooks Pharmacy was acquired by Rite Aid in June of 2007, and the Brooks trade name, a mainstay in the New England region, is being retired. This particular store was shuttered – leaving us no choice but to return to CVS.

Need I tell you who CVS soon hired as its chief pharmacist?

Yes, we now have the perfect storm of customer service: a seemingly overworked and under-trained staff under the supervision of someone who's at best condescending towards customers and doctors alike. (My wife prefers to just call him "mean.")

Now as I consider whether it’s worth driving to another town entirely to get my family’s prescriptions filled, I think of Tom Ryan, and I wonder how he’d react to our own interpretation of his chain’s initials.

“Customer Vexing Service” has a certain kind of ring, don’t you think?

By Kevin Zimmerman on October 2, 2007