The thing with running long distances is that the more time you spend running, the more tired you get. Obstacles that would have not even posed a mild threat of mishap at hour one suddenly become death traps as the hours roll on. It’s a funny thing that at the start of a run one’s form is pristine and deeper in an expedition one looks more like a knuckle-dragging Neanderthal.
What, you might ask does this observation have to do with either customer service or wedding rings? A week or two ago I was doing my customary four-hour run up and down and up again and down my local maunga, Mt Grey. Mt Grey/Maukatere is a very obvious landmark in Canterbury and is also the thing I look directly at from my home office window. The fact that it also has a Kordia communications mast at the top of it is an added bonus – as a Kordia board member I can get some exercise and fulfil my health and safety obligation as I run past the mast a few times.
Anyway, on this occasion I was obviously pushing things a bit hard and on the highly technical descent of the Red Beech track I kicked a rock or a tree root and proceeded to face plant in a most ungainly manner across the track. Alongside grazing my knees I got a few cuts and scraps on my hands which is where (literally and metaphorically) the connection to wedding bands comes in.
My wedding band, already on the slightly tight side, scraped some skin off my finger and a bit of swelling ensued. To the point that my formerly snug ring became an impediment to blood flow and the not inconsequential decision had to be made to seek some aid in removing said ring – a ring I’ve not taken off in well over two decades.
As is my want, I did some research via Google into removing tight rings. Before readers suggest I tried multiple times the old cotton thread/dental floss technique. All that was achieved was a concerning blackening of the finger and even more swelling. And so some advanced research was required.
It turns out that there exists a device – used by jewellers and hospital emergency departments alike – that is specifically designed to cut rings off swollen fingers. It’s quite a cool implement and the engineers among the readers will love the idea of a tiny saw blade turned by a thumbscrew that slowly but inexorably cuts through the ring in question, all the while avoiding cutting into the skin underneath.
Google told me that the nearest jeweller to my office was the fine folks at Canterbury Jewellery so I trundled over there to see about having said ring cut off. After getting over their mirth at my question about whether or not my ring was actually too tight (spoiler alert: it was!) the fine folks there told me that they cut rings off for free, and without any expectation that they will effect the repair afterwards.
True, it only took ten minutes or so to do the job, and in real terms that is but a trifle. But in these days when everyone is both doing it tough economically but also striving to monetise every single opportunity open to them, it really was a refreshing revelation that a business was happy to help out with no expectation of financial gain.
It kind of harks back to the old days when your grocer might slip a little treat into your (always paper) shopping bag. Or perhaps when your local butcher shop would give the kids a few slices of luncheon as a treat while the parents did their shopping. It’s a retail experience that reminds us of true customer service and the loyalty it engenders.
I’d like to think that it’s the sort of customer-centricity that will ensure a sustainable future for the business. Here’s hope that notwithstanding the power of AI and all its disruptive tendencies, that good old service stands the test of time.
