Monday 23 July 2007

Just not necessary

"Call us with your bank details and don't worry – we'll update your Direct Debit for you. All you need to do is relax."

Well, I'm afraid I've decided not to relax. I've decided to have a little rant.

Of course you'll update my Direct Debit. It's your (company's) job. And as far as I can see, it ain't hard. You're not doing me a massive favour. I'm not about to put my feet up with a cup of chamomile and fondly imagine that you're diligently writing a lengthy missive in finest copperplate and/or A negative, and delivering it to my home branch on windswept horseback, perhaps following an extended chase scene with impending wolves and yetis. I don't think the world's a better place because you're in it.

I'm really not impressed. It's 14 characters on an online form.

It's not because you're making an everest out of the everyday. It's not even because the last time I updated my Direct Debit details, you continued to debit the wrong account for six months. It's because you've added that text for the sake of it. You're bigging up something that's inherently unbigupable. Someone, somewhere (and I don't think it was anyone I know) suggested that your tone of voice was friendly and chatty, and so you're clutching at every conceivable opportunity to add some fluffiness.

It goes along with "we'd be delighted to help in any way we can". (No you won't be delighted. You'll be moderately cheery at best.) Or "we're happy to tell you we'll be sending your vouchers soon!" (Well, I'm glad you're happy, but I signed up to this card to get the vouchers, so they're not exactly coming as a great big birthday-cake-shaped surprise).

It's pointless. It's making me unnecessarily testy on a fine July afternoon. I had to tut twice, and I'm using more italic than I normally do in a year. The fact that you're claiming you can correctly fill in a form on-screen is not, not, not building my brand loyalty. The company that sent me a nastily type-set, terse, but factually correct letter within a day confirming my details, and then correctly switched my bank account without a murmur – you know what? They got my vote.

I'm currently visualising you as an unpleasantly over-familiar uncle. Probably one who's about to reverse into my car while gurning clammily out of the window.

I bet that wasn't in your brand guidelines.