“Thank you for calling DirecTV, my name is Ms. Nice-Voice, how may I help you?” The lady’s voice was pleasant, and from the moment she answered, I was sure that I’d get the solution I was looking for. After all, how could someone so sweet ever say no to a simple request like mine?

I’d been with DirecTV since satellite dishes were much larger and service was much less reliable. Back in those days there were fewer than 100 channels, and a guy would temporarily lose reception if a moth sneezed too close to the dish—things have certainly changed, but there’s still nothing good on.

My request was simple. Two of the three receivers in my humble home are the original Sanyo boxes provided to me a dozen years ago. These things will freeze up faster than the President’s ears during a Reverend Wright sermon, and oftentimes they refuse to change channels.

After seeing a commercial for Dish Network that offered two free DVR receivers, free installation, free programming and a free house, I figured that DirecTV would match the offer in order to keep a long-term customer. After all, I’ve given them well over $10,000. in business over the years, what’s two receivers compared to that kind of jack?

After explaining the rapidly declining work ethic of my geriatric Sanyos to the nice-voice lady, I suggested that they invest in my future business by hooking me up with a couple of DVR receivers. This was, I thought, a reasonable request considering their competitor was giving away the world. The fact is, I really didn’t want to leave their service. I like DirecTV. Apparently they’re not as happy with our relationship as I am.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Little. We just don’t have an offer like that for current customers at this time,” said the nice-voice lady. “We do have a similar offer for new customers, but you’re already a DirecTV customer.” It came out sounding like a ‘we-done-caught-that-fish’ approach to customer retention.

“Yes,” I replied, “and wouldn’t you like to keep me as a DirecTV customer? I pay my bills on time, I pay for three receivers rather than one, and, for what it’s worth, my family watches a lot more TV than we probably should!”

Mrs. Nice-Voice really couldn’t grasp the concept of contract negotiation, so I eventually requested to be bumped up the ladder to her supervisor, who then passed me over to the head guy at customer relations. Hope again burned bright as I felt that I could now converse on a sensible level. Surely the customer relations guy could make something happen.

“But Mike, this doesn’t make any sense,” I whined a few moments into my conversation. “I mean, if I’m Joe Blow off the street and I sign on with you, you’ll send a guy to my house to install a dish and two DVR-receivers. Yet, as a long and loyal customer, you’re telling me that I’m not worth just two receivers? What’s your actual cost of goods there, fifty-bucks?”

“I understand what you’re saying, Mr. Little. In fact, I agree with you. It’s a dumb way to do business. (Was this call really being monitored for quality assurance?) But the most they’ll let me do is offer a $40 credit toward the receiver purchase. I know that isn’t right: it’s just the way it is.”

Mike was a good guy, but as he rambled on, I found I could no longer listen. I was actually lost in my own thoughts, hoping and praying that my own employees would never handle a situation in such a manner. Sure, his hands were tied in the matter, but his handling of the call could have been much better.

First, even if he couldn’t budge, he should have feigned a try. He could’ve put me on hold while he called up the ladder or offered to call me back after speaking with someone higher up. I would have felt as though he’d gone to bat for me, even if he couldn’t get anything done.

He didn’t agree with their policy toward customer retention, but rather than hide that, he tried to pit himself on my side against his employer. Wrong answer. The correct choice there would have been to explain that they do run specific programs, but they didn’t currently have anything like that for retention, (Ms. Nice-Voice actually used this). Separating himself from the employer gained him nothing and only lent to my frustration over a “dumb” policy, which he reassured me, was stupid.

How’d it all end? Well, it hasn’t yet. I’m persistent, if nothing else. They still refuse to give me my receivers, but I keep calling them. I figure that, sooner or later, they’ll see the error of their ways and realize that bad policy does not a good customer keep.

Sure. I could just switch to Dish Network and take advantage of their generous offer, but that would be like quitting. This is a matter of principle now and as a businessman, I hate to see bad business.