At Chuck E. Cheese the other day, I looked at my receipt.
Log online, it said, and give us your opinion in a 5 minute survey. We want to improve your experience.
Digital Access For Only $0.99
For the most comprehensive local coverage, subscribe today.
Five minutes, Chuck E.? My comments on my experience could eat up hours. But first let me down this bottle of Advil. The memories of my visit are that vivid.
The Gap, J. Crew, Fisher Price, Toys R Us, Target, PetSmart, Subway they all want my opinion. How do you like our service? Our website design? Our online shopping cart? The automated voice that answers the phone?
I have lots of opinions and I'd gladly tell you what I think.
But first I think: what's in this for me?
I'm giving you my time, my opinion and my email address so you can solicit me for business for the rest of my life.
Moms are a big business. A trillion dollar business. My opinion should be worth at least a cookie.
Though, I am fully aware, my opinion itself won't make a dent. Have you ever read these surveys? A typical question:
How did you like the service?
a. very good
c. Super terrific
Written, as you can see, by the generation of kids that all got trophies just for showing up.
I just hope "very good" translates to "so bad, I'm never coming back here again unless you work out why your lines get to 20 people long before you add another cashier." (I'm talking to you CVS on 41st St.)
And now that they have my email address I just know I'll be getting a survey asking me about the enjoyment of the previous survey. (Still no cookie)
But thank you stores. I am glad you at least ask for my opinion. At 5 my kid has decided she doesn't need it anymore.