From the people

  1. Dan Waldron says:

    Can you tell me who did your layout? I’ve been looking for one kind of like yours. Thank you.

  2. Corey Dutson says:

    I made it myself, actually.

  3. Use my perfect method for getting out of these things. Switch the VISA card/number they are using and shut down the old one.

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An exercise in customer satisfaction

Sep 18

I understand that the tactic they use – which I shall explain- is a common one, but that in no way makes it right. By doing what they are doing, they are negating all of the good user experience I had while I was using their facilities.

They won’t let me leave

well that’s not entirely true…

They are making it impressively inconvenient for me leave

Brilliant strategy of you’ve got someone by the credit card, but it’s a horrible move. Try to follow my logic on this one, and feel free to comment on whether I’m an invalid or not.

When I signed up, I wasn’t pressured

They showed me around, answered all my questions, and then told me I could come back anytime if I was interested in signing up. I ended up signing up that day, as I liked what I saw and liked the staff. It far surpassed any of the other gyms I had looked at, and I was happy to join with them.

I signed some papers, wrote off my soul, etc. etc.. Everything was par for the course.

I used the facilities, and I liked them

Things were clean and maintained. The patrons were nice, followed the rules, and generally got along. I never had a complaint, though I did overhear one of a lady being upset that another lady was wearing a belly top of sorts (this was against the dress code.)

Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that they had a respectable dress code. No scantily clad women or men. This was a place for working out, not gawking.

I got lazy, and stopped going

Yup, all me. I got lazy, fell out of practice, and eventually stopped going. I was still paying for the gym though, despite my never going. That’s no ones fault but my own. I was under a contract with them and I had to wait a while before I could quit.

I finally got around to quitting, or so I thought

I walked into the gym that faithful day, and told them that I wanted to cancel my membership. “No problem,” said the helpful desk girl, “Just mail this paper with your email on it to the head office. They will then send you an email confirmation and you can cancel.”

Wait, what? Mail? You mean that thing with the paper and the stamps and the envelopes? That thing you do with Santa? Seriously?

Seriously.

Well, that’s ridiculous. I’m sure I can just go online or something to do this. They had a way to sign up for an account, so there should be a way to cancel it in the same area right?

Wrong.

This is where things went down hill for me. I created an account (which required a phone call as some of my internal data was missing, causing the validation to fail), and looked around for a ‘Stop Payment’ or ‘Cancel Account’ or something. There was no link to be clicked, no button to be pressed, no email to be sent. The only way to cancel your account was to mail in a paper, which you could print from the website, to their home office on California.

What’s wrong with this picture?

They did such a good job of nabbing me, of keeping me happy and content, of making sure my opinion of them was that of ‘sunshine from the butt’ proportions. Why would they drop me on my ass when I want to leave? Now all the good things they did for me are forgotten, and all I can say is what a bitch it is to cancel my membership.

Lesson: don’t burn bridges

They have, whether intentionally or not, burned a bridge with me. Not only do I want to cancel my account with them (I’m working on it, I promise) but now I want to tell everyone about how much of an ordeal it is to cancel said account. I’m not going to say how wonderful their places are, or how considerate their staff may be; I’m going to remember the freshest experience first: dropped on my ass.

If you’re going to try and screw people out of money, fine. I can’t stop you, because that’s just how a lot of businesses operate and I’m not one to comment on that. I’ll leave the business commentary to those who know what they’re talking about. What I’m trying to get across is a simple usability exercise: If you make everything from start to finish as simple and easy as possible, that’s what I will tell people.

Had the gym made it simple to cancel my account, they may have lost out on my 40 dollars a month. They would have also gained a person who would spout out their greatness to anyone willing to listen. I liked that gym, but I will no longer recommend them for this reason.

To summarize: Be nice from start to finish. Even when people are leaving you, wave them goodbye, don’t slam the door on their ass on the way out. Those people have mouths.

Bonus Lesson: Have a point of contact

If you visit their website, you’ll find that the only way to contact them is via a non-800 phone number, within set hours. No email, no contact form. What’s the point of a website with online user registration, when you can’t even email the company?