When you are traveling, do you sometimes feel like you are facing challenges fit for Indiana Jones or Lara Croft? Indy is how I was daydream believing on a recent eventful trip to a customer briefing.
Leaving my home at 4:15 for a 6AM flight I was looking forward to a marathon day that would end with a 10PM flight home. After the trek to the airport and an hour and a quarter in the air I was at the meeting place by 8:30. I spent the next hour and a half setting up equipment, finishing off my slides, meeting and greeting.
Approaching midday with the demonstration behind us, it was time to settle in for the "death by PowerPoint" portion of the day. Suddenly the client received a phone call. Urgent business required that he leave sooner than expected. Whether through serendipity or an editorial comment by the client, by mid afternoon my primary mission was accomplished.
On a normal day, I'd have found a quiet corner and knuckled down for a couple of hours of new found of quality time with my inbox. However this day, my Temple of Doom was to be the local international airport and those dark clouds on the horizon, well, they were for-real thunderstorms threatening to mess up a significant portion of the rest of my week.
If you've ever spent an inclement weather day at a busy airport you know where I am coming from. You too have experienced challenges fit for any fantasy adventurer.
Luckily this day I was booked on an airline that understands this kind of a traveler's predicament and provides tools fit for Indiana Jones's leather satchel.
As Indy might do with his trusty bullwhip, I reached for the smart phone on my belt. With an imaginary Stetson fedora shielding my eyes from the glare of the neon lights I snapped the cursor on the browser of my phone to the airline's mobile website. As if reading some 21st century treasure map, I spied an earlier flight. I calculated that if I could navigate the perils of the afternoon rush, I might just stand a chance to get out of town before the afternoon deluge bogged down the transportation system.
The stakes were high. Loosing a chunk of the next day to unexpected travel would mean the rescheduling of back-to-back appointments, more backlog of work and a domino effect that would carry past the end of the week.
No, like Indy searching for treasure in some ancient tomb, I had to negotiate my way through the multiplying effects of inclement weather as airline delays and cancellations cascaded through the air traffic system. I had to figure out a way to get home. To do so would require outwitting competitors, negotiating arcane transactions, hurdling commuter chasms and exercising all of my accumulate traveler skills.
The distant theme music rose in my head as I visualized growing standby lists. As if heading to some equatorial jungle, I could almost feel the dank steamy air of the terminal as more bodies than the facility was built to handle piled in only to see their flights delayed or canceled. My mind's eye depicted gadget toting clandestine figures like so many villains in some exotic foreign bazaar angling for the few too many electrical outlets for all those dying cell phones and laptops. The prospect of yet another lonely night in yet another nondescript airport hotel pressed heavy on my brow.
... Dah, Tah, Dah,- Dah, Dah, Dah, Dah...
... Whisssh! Snap! My cursor cracked as I navigated the website on my smart phone. Things are moving fast now. Using my hands for the last time I clicked the airline's reservation toll free number and the Avaya one-X Mobile application on my smart phone immediately delivered me to a friendly automated voice. I snapped my smart phone back to its place like Indy holstering his Lugar. The natural sounding voice in the Bluetooth headset seemed to intuitively know my predicament.
Never touching a keypad, I spoke plain English and navigated a highly intuitive set of voice prompts. The identical information I had just seen on my smart phone browser was represented and clearly articulated in speech.
Speaking comfortably I was able to lookup my original reservation, select an earlier flight, secure a seat - the friendly voice even knowing my preference for the aisle - and paid the change fee confirming my credit card number.
Hands free, as I processed these transactions, I buttoned up my belongings like Indy grabbing the basic necessities as he leaves behind some redolent hotel room. I hustled to the rental car and hit the road for the airport. As I navigated onto the toll way I clicked the button on my headset and by voice commands dialed my Avaya Advanced Speech Access personal assistance.
"Since you last logged in you have twenty new messages, two of these are voicemails," said the familiar voice. "Read new email messages," I said. Like Indy speaking to one of his familiar sidekicks, I comfortably conversed with my electronic friend. My spirits rose as she spoke the details from the confirmation of my itinerary change that the airline had automatically emailed to me.
With both hands on the wheel as I negotiated the highway traffic I spoke plain English commands processing a few quick emails, checking my appointments and recording a voice memo documenting my expenses for the inevitable paperwork that follows each month's travel adventures.
Arriving at the airport in record time I parked the rental car, retrieved my receipt and dashed to the courtesy bus. The skies darkened as I disembarked the bus and stepped into the terminal. The lines were already growing as the early afternoon rush had begun. Other seasoned travelers sensing impending trouble had begun to converge on the airport as if a herd of wild animals intuitively sensing the impending effects of some super villain's evil plot.
Stepping up to the self-service kiosk, I retrieved my boarding pass and headed for security.
Next came what might be the toughest part of my challenge. I approached the thickening crowd pressing towards the security screening point. I scanned the crowd to avoid novice travelers, families with children, groups of people with passports. As Indy might face rolling boulders, flying spikes, and snakes, "not snakes," I ducked and weaved, as I found the fastest line. I placed my belongings in the bins and eased towards the magnetometer.
Clear of security as departure time rapidly approached, I next face people movers, escalators, teaming masses. I dodge and weave through the meandering crowds. I finally make it to the gate. I see the standby list is at ten deep. As if bounding atop a regal Arabian steed to make my fateful escape, I flashed my boarding pass to the gate agent and glided down the jet way just in time before the hatch was closed.
As I passed, I noticed them: The poor souls. Had they only known how to take advantage of the services provided by the airline, they might not be facing hours of impending frustration as Mother Nature's wrath descended upon the air traffic system.
In my mind I can still see their perplexed faces as their adventure had just begun.
Have you given your customers the opportunity to live out their fantasy as a mythical adventurer? Have you made it possible for them to react with agility and accomplish superhuman feats of personal productivity? Do your customers think of interacting with your company as an experience that helps them to defeat the villains of modern life?
What would Indiana Jones think? - GWC 8-09
What are your self-service mythic adventures? Join the discussion below.
Posted 18 Aug 2009 at 07:11 PM