Tough Customer

Why? I'm simply fed up with your antics. I've had it with your specious come-ons, inflated claims, intrusive marketing tactics, hidden conditions, senseless glut of product line extensions, and effusive promises of service that turn out to be mostly lip. I'm overwhelmed by your complicated marketing promotions that require me to read, understand, fill out, qualify, clip, send in and redeem. (Haven't I got enough work to do?) I've grown impervious to your onslaught of commercial messages, my mail box is crammed with unwanted solicitations, and I'm confronted with a ludicrous amount of choices to purchase even the simplest item.

The travel industry should be deeply concerned that I often put off trips, rather than deal with the tangle of fares, fees, restrictions and stipulations that airlines, hotels and car rental companies confound us with. I would rather suffer through a cold than stand dazed before hundreds of remedies trying to fathom which might best mask my symptoms. And when you interrupt my precious time with the kids to hound me with telephone sales pitches (invariably mangling the pronunciation of my name), you might as well be saying to me: "Never buy from my rude and insensitive company again." (I remember who you are.)

I have held onto my car for more than ten years, partly to avoid the arduous, and often unsavory, experience of buying a new one. The prospect of having to arm myself to the teeth with consumer research and ironclad arguments to parry crafty negotiating tactics and pressure for unwanted dealer add-ons is a major turn-off. This should trigger alarms in the automotive industry; instead it usually sets off a new wave of suspect strategies to suck me in.

Unfortunately, the credibility of well-meaning companies also suffers from the dubious ploys of others. As a result, I don't believe any manufacturer's claims of anything, unless I check it out from an independent source. I'm cynical of any device's advertised battery life. I snicker at software makers' boasts of performing tasks "with just a click." And I bristle at any service facility's oxymoronic (the emphasis here on moronic) recorded pronouncement that "your call is important to us." If indeed it is, for godsakes answer it!

I would venture to say there are many more disaffected consumers like me, and that our numbers are growing. A sorry state of affairs for corporate America, whose respected brand names once had a lock on the loyalty of the American consumer. But today's near-sighted corporate managers are squandering that loyalty in their quest of the quick buck.

Who do you think you're kidding? We read the business section. We know what you guys are making. We follow the disputed advertising claims, deceptive labeling tricks, product recalls, price-fixing investigations, government contract ripoffs...need I go on? So don't tell us how much you're "trying harder to serve us better," when you'll lay off thousands of your own employees at the drop of a hat to beef up your bloated compensation packages.

Sure, you're pulling in the profits now. Everyone is. But what happens when you've exhausted your supply of the gullible and the uninformed? What happens when the economy turns sour and people start buying only those products they really need...or trust?

In such times, you don't want people like me sitting on the sidelines. Especially when I could probably use and afford what you're selling. But who's got the time or patience to get beyond the smoke and mirrors to determine what your product's really worth? My prevailing attitude is, why even bother?

That said, what can you do to lure me back into the game? The easy and astounding answer is...not much. Simply tell me what it is you're selling, what it does, and how much it costs. If you want to entice me with a special promotion, give me a break on the price, rather than concoct some elaborate scheme that requires me to work for my reward. Don't overload your advertising with multiple claims and promises. I probably won't remember any of them. And don't hit me with great-sounding "bargains," if they're asterisked with a litany of deal-breaking stipulatons. You won't even get my attention next time around.

If your product or service indeed offers real value, at least give me credit for having the ability to recognize it.

Simplicity succeeds. It's why nine times out of ten I'll grab a box of cornflakes, rather than one of those overpriced designer cereals that boasts scores of ingredients, glitzy packaging, and gimmicky enticements whose novelty will wear off before I'm even hungry again.