Foreigner in London column: Contagious Customer Service

I discovered today that it is possible to catch English.

As I checked in with Thai Airways I was told that the seat I had requested had not in fact been reserved. This was an interesting turn of events, as I had confirmed my seat via the phone just a few hours earlier. My inability to identify the name of the call centre person I had spoken to meant that I was essentially accused of being delusional by Thai Airways. They seemed to conclude that I suffered from a rare strain on mental illness where the only symptom is imagining contact with call centre staff.

The airline could not give me an explanation. Nor did they apologise or make any effort to fix the situation. Am I am a gold card carrying member of Star Alliance…I feel really sorry for the rest of you. At least I have junk mail to look forward to that doesn’t involve the local pizzeria or mini cab company. At this moment I am struggling to identify any other perks that go with the card.

Whilst waiting in yet another queue to try and get someone to help me at Heathrow I suddenly realise that I am not dealing with Thai Airways employees. The people checking me in describe themselves as ‘contractors.’ I have concluded that the definition of a contractor is someone who is not contractually obliged to take any responsibly for problem solving. I look forward to making a significant impact in a similar role myself one day. It may also not surprise you to learn that these contractors who were proving to be entirely usless were English natives.

So apart from feeling sorry for the non gold card customers, I felt sympathy for Thai Airways who have just lost a customer (one who has done no less than four return trips from London to Sydney with them.) Actually I don’t feel that sorry for them, as they have seated me next to a man who may or not be Hagar the Horrible. I let him take the armrest in case he tries to club me.
I start to think of all the other global brands that have left their reputation in the hands of English customer service.

Getting Benetton to take back a faulty jacket last year took up one too many hours on the phone. Had these phone calls not given me a valid reason to excuse myself from meetings at work I would have most certainly held a grudge.

Then there are the folks at McDonalds who at 10.31am become entirely unable to fry up my beloved Sausage & Egg McMuffin because the clock tells them so…whether you have been waiting in line to be served for 10 minutes is of no consequence to them.

As I type this I am advised by the flight attendant (sorry in this case there title does not warrant capital letters), that they have a record of me reserving my seat on my return flight. When I ask why I might do that rather than reserve a seat on my outbound flight, I have a piece of paper waved in my face and am told that this is ‘evidence.’ Yes, evidence that this flight attendant has spent too long a stop over in London and caught a bad case of English.

Another attendant then rushes over and says that my seat has been given to a last minute booking, and therefore I cannot have my seat. I am unsure how this last piece of information is likely to achieve anything other than make more order even more gin. I make a metal note to investigate the correlation between alcoholism and flying Thai Airways.

If only Newton was alive to see the airline turn gold back into a non precious metal.

Until there is a cure, I guess the best thing for global brands is to quarantine their staff after any time spent in the UK, or dedicate a proportion of profits to finding a cure for being English.