Customer Servile

I steel myself as I walk into the back corner of the Yamada Denki (Yamada Electric) outlet in Kashima. I was fortunate to be able to leave Ye Olde Academy early today so I can take care of a few errands, and this is something I've been wanting to do for some time. However, it is making me very uncomfortable. It's not my first visit to the computer corner here; I've been here quite a few times. However, this time I know I'll have to deal with customer service (obscenely dark-sounding diminished 7th chord).

I wouldn't be surprised if customer service in the high-tech industry were a form of Biblical plague. I have had particularly bad luck with them here in Japan. The biggest problem goes back to basic commercial ethics here in the Land of the Rising Sun. Rule Number One is that businesses do not cater to the customer; rather, they inform the customer of what he is supposed to want unless he really sucks. Ask for something other than the latest fad and you get lots of air sucked through teeth and not much else...except in the high-tech field. There you can expect to be insulted. Thus far my track record with high-tech customer service here has run as follows:

• When I tried to buy my first computer back in January of 1995 I went to a famous shop in Tokyo's Akihabara Electric City. I told them the model I wanted, and everything was fine until I asked if I could special-order an English user's manual. Then the sales clerk suddenly called over their apparent official gaijin handler, who kept trying to tell me in painfully slow, awkward, mangled English that they couldn't sell me the machine for some unfathomable reason. I kept trying to ask the sales clerk (in Japanese) to explain what the problem was, finally to the point that I was angrily demanding at the top of my lungs that he stop hiding behind his English-(non)-speaking lackey and speak to me. After several minutes of this he finally told me that they couldn't sell me the computer because, as a gaijin, I clearly couldn't use a Japanese keyboard. I tried to tell him that the keyboard was not the issue, and he just waved me off and went to a different customer.
• Instead, in March of 1995 I bought a computer at a new electronics store that had just opened close to home. I chose the model that was their "most recommended buy" at the time: an IBM (cr)Aptiva that had the most powerful processor and the largest hard drive I had ever seen up till then (a 486DX4/100, 730 megabytes). It was also preinstalled with the OS/2 Warp operating system, which I had long been interested in thanks to Snabulus (who was a big OS/2 fan at the time). Later that year, in the midst of the all-new Windows 95 hype, I went to that shop's service counter to ask for advice on setting up an internet connection. They told me that they didn't support OS/2 and insisted their store had never sold that model of computer. I offered to show them the receipt and warranty certificate as proof, and they just waved me off.
  
• I asked the local Canon service center for an OS/2 driver for my printer and was told bluntly, "We don't support OS/2. Most people use DOS, Windows, or Macintosh, so we would recommend you switch to one of those." After that I sent a whiny e-mail to Snabulus back in Oregon, who then sent an e-mail to Canon U.S.A. explaining my situation, and they made me a driver! (Gotta love that American business ethic!)
• When I moved to my current house in 1997 the phone company told me I had no choice but to switch to a digital phone line and an ISDN internet connection. (I now know that to be pure BS, as I switched to analog when I went broadband last year, but anyway...) The phone company rep said to me, [southern accent]"Don't worry, we support both operating systems, Windows and Macintosh!"[/southern accent] I said that I used OS/2, and she replied, "Well, most people use Windows or Macintosh, so I'd recommend switching to one of those." I then called tech support at IBM, makers of OS/2, for advice, and they said, "Well, most people use Windows, so I'd recommend switching to it." (Geeze...don't you guys support your own product?) Then, when all hope seemed lost, I got a call from the phone company. It turned out that they used to be hard-core OS/2 users and had an OS/2 expert on hand with nothing to do. He not only made me a driver for my terminal adapter but came to my house and set me all up free of charge! (Gotta love that Japanese courtesy!)
• Back in 2004 my wife was using my old work laptop, which had Windows 2000 on it. I tried to put a USB 2.0 card in it, but it required the service pack updates. That machine was never connected to the internet, and when I tried plugging it in and logging on to try the online update the machine was immediately bombarded with worms and crashed. I tried to order the CD ROM update from Microsoft Japan online, but their order form wouldn't accept my non-Japanese name. I then went to Laox, a well-known electronics outlet. I went to the computer service counter, explained the situation, and asked if they could order the CD ROM update. The arrogant geek on duty at the time huffed, chortled, and became both very patronizing and very condescending before terminating the conversation while I was mid-sentence and moving to a different customer. I said, "Um, excuse me..," and he waved me off with a laugh and a, "Don't bother!" (I haven't been back to Laox since.)

Now you can see why I'm a bit uncomfortable about having to deal with customer service in the computer section of Yamada Denki today. I'm especially leery because of my reasons for being here. You see, I bought this Sony Vaio back in 2002. It has always served my modest needs very well, and I have never had any trouble with it (except one case of software glitch and/or pilot error which led to a total reinstall a few years ago). I don't play video games on this thing, and its measly 1.0 gHz processor has always been more than enough for the little bit of movie watching I do. However, I have been noticing it has been running a bit slow lately. A lot of it no doubt has to do with the fact that web sites are becoming increasingly laden with animation and other embedded media, but the fact is that I looked at the machine's performance specs and noticed that, after all the running processes, there was only about 40 mb of available RAM left. No wonder. The machine came with a base 128 mb of RAM which I doubled to 256 mb on purchase. That is clearly not enough anymore. So today I'm finally going to give it some more oomph. It's a sensible purchase from a practical standpoint, but from the eyes of the IT world I might as well be installing an electronic fuel-injection system in a '73 Ford Impala. I can still see that Laox buffoon in my mind waving me off with a smug grin and a "Don't bother!"

I arrive at the computer corner, and someone ahead of me is there for the same reason. I don't hear what make and model of computer he's buying RAM for, but the service rep seems intrigued. However, he seems perfectly polite and reasonable as he makes a number of recommendations. I relax a bit. Then my turn comes up. I tell the service rep the model of my computer, and he starts digging through his guidebook. He turns page after page, eyebrows furrowing deeper, until he finally finds it. He calls off the model number, and I verify it.

His eyebrows furrow further. "Here," he says, pointing at a pile of boxes in a locked display case. "128 megabyte standard."

My heart sinks. "Can't I get anything bigger than that?"

He gives me a look that says "Whathef***?" loud and clear. Then he replies in the affirmative and points to some other boxes. I tell him I want the most powerful type available for my machine there, a 512 mb module. (It's more expensive than some of the 1 gb models there, but they're all for more modern machines, unfortunately.) He takes it over to the register, puts my point card in the reader, and rings up my purchase.

Right after I pay for the RAM module the man shakes his head, clicks his tongue, smirks, and says sheepily, "That really is an old machine, isn't it?"

"Five years old, yes," I reply evenly. "I figure I'll get a new computer someday, but as long as the Vaio runs well I'll keep using it." I hold up the RAM module. "And with this it'll run even better."

The service rep nods briskly, turns on his heel, and walks off. As he passes one of his coworkers I overhear him saying, "Can you believe that?"

Oh, well. At least I didn't get insulted to my face this time...or told I couldn't buy the item because the buttons are in the wrong place...

For what it's worth: I'd forgotten how much "fun" it was installing the RAM module when I first bought this machine back in 2002. Inside accessibility is definitely NOT one of this Vaio's strong points. I basically had to open the main component, remove both the hard drive and the power pack, and disconnect several cables and wires before I could even access the RAM ports, which were still in a very narrow space. Taking out one of the old modules was easy. Getting the new one in was hard. It was a tight fit with little clearance. It took time, effort, patience, and creative use of a waribashi (disposable chopstick). I did get it in though, obviously, and yes, there has been a marked improvement in this machine's performance.