Two recent events have precipitated this letter. The first
was my experience in placing an ad to sell some antique
furniture with the Kingston Whig-Standard.
Prior to placing
the ad, I noted the Guaranteed Ad Program on the front
page of the classified section: “Advertise
your one merchandise item for one week and if that item
does not sell in 7 days, we will rerun (sic…should this not
say rerun the ad?) for 1 week FREE”.
The furniture did not sell; I called the toll-free number
again. The person I spoke with had no knowledge of the Guaranteed
Ad Program. As she was in Sarnia, she wasn’t able to simply look at
the paper! By way of a phone call through to the sole person
working in Kingston, the situation was remedied; my ad was printed in the paper
the following week.
I wrote a letter to the editor about the above experience,
but the letter was not printed. The Advertising Director
called in response to the letter. We exchanged voice messages twice. I told her
not to bother calling back.
The second event occurred last week. This incident left an
even more rancid taste. I felt that creepy uncomfortable
feeling that comes from being hoodwinked.
My paper was late on Thursday, April 6. Our Whig carrier does
a wonderful job, and our paper is generally on time. On previous
occasions when the paper has been late I’ve called and heard a recorded
message regarding an unexpected delay and assurance that the paper would be delivered.
Last Thursday when I called I heard a (somewhat patronizing)
recorded voice. The voice prompted me to respond to questions.
(Without an actual script, I will do my best to recount):
“Which of these can I help you with: Delivery problem, Vacation
Hold, Account or something else?”
If you don’t say anything, the voice says: “So, if
you have a delivery problem you can say delivery problem.” I said
delivery problem.
“I’m sorry, did you get the paper?”
I responded “No.”
“So, are you missing the paper just for today?”
I didn’t respond…. (whatever would the voice do next?)
“Say yes or no, for example say it like this:
yes.”
Then I was asked for my phone number.
“Got it. Now give just your house number”
I responded with the house number.
“Hold on a second while I bring up your account” CLICK, CLICK,
CLICK.
(Yes, there were actual sounds of a keyboard tapping.) “Would
you like re-delivery, or a credit” (Wait… how
can this be a redelivery if the paper hasn’t been delivered
in the first place?)
“Thank you. We have already notified your carrier. Please
notify us again if there is a problem because we
care ... and we
care about your carrier’s performance.”
I felt cheated and demoralized. Why couldn’t I speak with a real
person? One who may actually know where I live and be aware of local
problems that may prevent delivery? Instead, I am addressed by a machine
as if I’m a small child. AND do the people at Osprey actually
think I will believe that someone is tapping on that
keyboard?
In an effort to save money, our community newspaper is no
longer truly a part of our community. A local newspaper
should be local.