I Would Suck at Customer Service

To begin with, this is not a post about the older generation and their struggle with computers. I mean, it sort of is, but I'm not writing this to crab about them. I completely understand how frustrating it must be to learn a completely new technology, especially when people 1/4 your age keep talking about things like mp3s, widgets, and blogs, and you have no idea what any of those words means. And I'm sure in 50 years, I'll have kids (or even grandkids) that will run technological circles around me, even though I'm sort of with it right now.

No, this is a post about how much I would suck at working customer service for a computer company. My grandpa called last night with two computer problems. The first was that his email program didn't work. Now, I know how his computer is set up, and it's set up so that the email icon on the desktop goes right to Gmail. So I asked if he could get on the internet. Nope, that didn't work either.

"What do you see?"

"Well, there's this tiny box with a red "x" and three options: file, search, and view."

Now, I'd never heard of anything like this. A tiny box? If his internet isn't working, he should get some "cannot connect" error, or if the page isn't working, maybe "404 file not found." But a tiny box with three options? I had no idea.

And this is exactly why I would fail at computer customer service. I'm completely familiar with computers, but thinking about the problems that others might have in a creative way eludes me. And I'm not good at breaking things down into steps, so I say things like, "Click on the start icon and select programs/firefox" when what I really need to say is, "Ok, look in the bottom left of your screen. Do you see a button that says start? Good. Left click once on that, and you should see a menu pop up. You do? That's great. Now, you'll see the word "programs, and if you hang over that with your mouse, another menu will pop up. You see that? Ok, good. Now move your mouse into that menu and click...."

Anyways, you get the idea.

I told my grandpa I would call him back. After I tried to replicate my grandpa's error on my computer and failed (and got irritable), my husband said, "Maybe I should take over from here."

It was amazing. He figured out that somehow, my grandpa's internet window had gotten minimized to the point where he could only see the three menu options at the top and the red "x." I'm glad he figured that out. I was going to have my grandpa call his cable internet company and yell at them because his service was out. But I would really have felt all that bad if he had yelled at them without justification, because if they're anything like my cable internet company they probably deserve it anyways.

The next problem was that my grandpa's label making software had disappeared. Showing the patience of a saint, my husband had my grandpa read off all the programs on his desktop, as well as all the programs in his start menu. Nothing. Neither of us has any idea what happened to this program, but fortunately, grandpa still had his install disk and was able to reinstall the software. Obviously, the software didn't disappear, but where it went, who knows. And since neither my husband nor I knows exactly what's on my grandpa's computer, and since he doesn't speak computer, figuring out where it could have gone would be impossible.

I really think that for anyone who works with older friends/neighbors/relatives on their computer, particularly over the phone, using "remote desktop" software is a lifesaver. This is software that essentially allows you to look over the shoulder of the person you're talking to--their desktop becomes your desktop. As Paul Boutin writes in this article for Slate, this can really save a relationship between a computer-savvy grandson and his computer-newb grandpa.

So, to my two brothers who are having fun in Europe this summer--it's not really fair of you to set up grandpa's computer and then leave me to answer all the customer service calls. I'm no good at it, and I have no idea what to tell him. Thanks a lot, guys :)

To my husband, I definitely think that fixing computers over the phone without being able to see what you're fixing qualifies as a miracle. And since you've done it more than once, that's your requisite two miracles. And you're only 27! I expect the Vatican will be calling any day now.

And to anyone who does this for a living, I salute you. I have the utmost respect for what you do, especially those of you who are able to answer ridiculous questions without losing your patience, or laughing out loud at the person on the other end. I could never do what you do without absolutely losing my mind.