Internet retail and the "last mile" problem
Posted on October 04, 2007 - No comments
When I arrived home from work, instead of the network card I’d ordered there was one of those dreaded “we called but you were out” slips. Nothing on the from was filled in but there was a phone number and a little map. On the back the delivery driver had written “please call to arrange”. I picked up the phone and dialled the number. “Welcome to the automated…” Sigh. I knew from experience this was going to be bad. The voice continued, ‘please listen to all the options before making your selected and have your consignment number handy.’
Consignment number? What bloody consignment number. A quick check of the slip revealed nothing, no number except the phone number. I continued with reckless abandon.
“Please enter your consignment number” said the voice. I didn’t have one, so I waited for the next option.
“Please enter your consignment number” the voice repeated. With a sense of inevitable futility I put the phone down. Ok, well maybe I’ll find the consignment number in one of the automated emails from Ebuyer ? Yes, that would be useful and wouldn’t be unreasonable would it.
With renewed optimism (or as close to that as I was going to get) I powered up my computer, lurched through windows and into Thunderbird. Nope. There was no mention of a consignment number – the emails just told me that my package had been dispatched and that I should expect it on Friday. Obviously it should also have mentioned that if you wanted to see any sign of it I’d need to take the day off and sit by the front door.
The following day I bundled up the family ready for an expedition into across the city. Armed with the scrappy little map on the delivery slip I set off feeling like one of the great Victorian explorers. Our journey took us across the entire city, not the most pleasant experience on a Saturday morning, but we managed to avoid having our car run off the road by the hostile natives. It soon became apparent that our destination was not the most salubrious part of town. In fact the depot was located in a small industrial estate which looked as if it had recently hosted a fly-tipping convention. We managed to dodge the crane swinging steelwork across the road from a construction site next door and turned into the depot car park.
The reception area was depressing. The first thing I noticed was a large and unfriendly notice behind the counter written in red ink. It read “Due to the number of packages we receive you may have to wait up to an hour, please be patient”. My thoughts immediately turned to my wife and son abandoned in the car outside. I could just imagine the reaction if I told them we’d be here for a while.
My slip was taken off my by a young lad who just sighed when I mentioned the missing consignment number. “Don’t worry, we can find it from the postcode.” I tried to mention that maybe it would have been nice to have arranged re-delivery, but that it wasn’t an option if they don’t write the consignment number on the slip, but he’d disappeared through a battered door.
Looking around it appeared that someone had found a way to keep themselves occupied while they were waiting. On an out of date quality assurance certificate pinned to a noticeboard someone had written ‘crap’.
To my relief a little while after the young lad emerged with my package. “Can I have some ID?” the lad asked abruptly. Erm, ID? There was nothing on the note to say that I needed to bring ID, and nothing had been mentioned on the automated phone line. Luckily I had an old pass from a company I worked for a couple of years ago that had my picture on it. That seemed to do the trick. I couldn’t work out why that should be reassuring as there was no confirmation that I actually worked for the company on the pass, or that the company existed, or that I lived at the delivery address… but at this point I really wasn’t up for a discussion, I was just relieved to get my hands on my package. A package that would have quite easily have fitted through my letterbox…
There’s more about Citylink on Ebuyer’s Forums.
My wheelie-bin is not my letterbox!
This is just one example of the kind of problems you get ordering on-line. I’ve got plenty more examples and I’m sure you have too. We had problems with the Home Delivery Network (putting the customer 1st) used by Amazon, who seemed to think that it was more than acceptable to lob our parcels over the fence and onto the back patio regardless of the weather. One such delivery contained a Nintendo DS and other Christmas presents that all had to be extracted from rain-sodden cardboard. We’re not the only ones as you can see from a quick google.
The Royal Mail isn’t any better. The collection office is only open in the morning and closes as 12. So there’s no way I can get their until the weekend and there’s no point arranging anther delivery as I won’t be in. We’ve also had goods left IN our wheelie bin!
Online retailed must recognise that these experiences reflect badly on their business. As far as the customer goes, the delivery of the products they’ve ordered is just as important as the on-line experience if not more-so.
When complaining to Amazon we got a response saying that they were happy with the service being offered by their delivery agents and that it had resulted to savings for their customers. It’s not all about price though is it? As a result of the experience I had with Ebuyer recently I will not be placing another order with them. It’s just not worth the hassle and irritation no matter how much cheaper their prices are.
Why can’t companies offer to deliver out of working hours (it’s obviously possible as supermarkets offer this service). I’m sure that anyone else out there who works a full working week has better things to do at the weekend than try to track down and recover their parcels. It’s obvious that large internet retailers have invested a lot of money in trying to make the delivery phase of their shopping experience better. It’s now possible to track your parcel from the warehouse, across the country, to your door and back to the depot. What many people don’t realise is that it’s this tracking, and the requirement to get a signature to confirm delivery that prevents goods being slipped through that custom built receptacle in the front door so that it’s there, on your doormat, waiting for you when you get home.
A retailer that goes some way to solving the problem of the “last mile” will get my repeat business, ones that get it so very very wrong, won’t.
Have you had problems like mine? Leave a comment and let me know.