Sometimes a business has a policy that I just don’t fundamentally agree with; something that causes a great deal of frustration. But, through quality service offered by employees, my overall experience can be radically changed. Put another way, with the right mindset, and freedom to help customers, employees can solve customers problems, one interaction at a time. I’ve got a perfect example of this, involving one of those credit-bearing gift cards to a local book store.

A few years ago, someone gave me a thirty dollar voucher to one of the stores and through a series of mistakes on my end, the voucher became misplaced. I discovered it the other day and realised, to my horror, that the expiry date was two months previous. With a sinking heart, I logged online to confirm the card details. Surprise; the date on the back of the card was wrong. It hadn’t expired two months previous, but just three days prior to my rediscovery.

I really hate these credit-bearing gift-cards. I get the business motivation. Lock credit onto a card that many people will never get to spend before the expiry date and you pocket the profit. It’s a borderline scam. The expiry date I mean. In some places, like New Zealand and Australia, laws have been changed to ensure that there’s a three year minimum expiry. Unfortunately, my card was sold before the laws changed.

So, I made the long trip to the store to see if I could recoup my value. I approached the counter and the staff member there greeted me with a big smile. I explained the story and they scanned my card.

Their expression fell a little and they said, “I’m so sorry, but it did expire already.”

I sighed.

They typed a few more keys and said, “But the head office might be able to extend it for a small fee.”

They saw my expression and nodded ruefully. “It’s just their policy.”

I raised my eyebrows. It seemed a bit peevish to charge me for typing a few keys, but I get what it’s like to be trapped in corporate rules. Getting some value back was better than losing the whole card’s value.

The staff member tried to call the head office and their expression fell a little further. “I’m sorry, I can’t get them on the phone. Are you going to be in town long?”

I shook my head. “I’m heading back out in an hour.”

They paused, thought and said, drawing a form from below the desk. “Fill out this form and leave it with me. I’ll get it reinstated and if I have to mail it to you, I’ll make sure you get it.”

I stared at them, surprised. The interaction; from the disappointment that the card had indeed expired, to the frustration of added cost to extend it; to this sort of spontaneous and helpful problem solving by the person on the front-line of the experience.

I wrote down all my details, took a photo of the card and left.

After a few more errands, I took back to the road to head home.

A few hours later, I stopped by the post office to check my mail. Inside my post office box was a hand-written note from one of the post office staff.

“Hi Christopher, your phone number seems to be disabled, could you please contact ===== at ====== regarding your expired gift card.”

I stared at the note, perplexed. Somehow, a message from the store I’d left earlier that morning had beaten me back to the post office I’d put to the form. I called the number and the staff member I’d spoke to picked up.

“I’m so sorry,” they said. “I tried your number but I didn’t work, so I had to think outside the box a little to reach you. The head office has extended your gift-card, for only $2.50 and they’ve re-issued it as a card I can email you just now if you give me your email.”

I stared out blankly across the parking lot.

The staff member, having been unable to reach me, had called the post office directly to leave me a note.

In an age of commodity interactions, this sort of service feels special, memorable and meaningful.

“Thank you so much for doing this for me,” I said, and meant it. “You’ve gone above and beyond and I appreciate it.”

“I’ve just sent it now,” they said cheerily. “Call me back if you have any issues.”

I hung up.

Whatever frustration I felt with faceless corporate policies about gift-card expiry dates and extension charges faded away under the well-meaning and kind intentions of this staff member, just trying to do a job well.

Here’s the key takeaway, I don’t think you can directly design for these interactions. Does that sounds like a contradiction coming from a research and design specialist?

Let me explain.

You can’t make someone take initiative, be warm in their interactions, or kind with someone who’s fallen afoul of policies set at a corporate level. But you can create an envelope of permission for people to think outside the box to solve problems for customers. Or you can make sure you hire people that are determined and brave enough to give a great service.

Either way, these sorts of clues to understanding and designing better services don’t always come from 10,000 meters up; in the heady and somewhat ethereal clouds of corporate strategy, five year plans and market reports. Instead, amazing experiences can be built, interaction-by-interaction, by the people offering the service. Doing work to understand and empower them can go a long way towards making experiences that matter.

I’ve now made a note of the new expiry date in my calendar and will make sure not to make the same mistake again. When I go in the shop again, I hope to see that staff member again, to thank them for their time and effort. They made an interaction that could have meant nothing, mean everything.