As a CEO, I learn every day what constitutes a bad and unethical company. Today, it was Uber Eats that taught me what absolute shit customer service looks like.
At 6:20 this evening, I ordered a vegan pizza from a local pizzeria (shocking, as I live in a fairly red county/state where vegans are routinely called f-ggots or "cucks"). As you may or may not know, vegan pizzas are already really gnarly - no offense to my vegan friends - but I was really craving a pizza, so what the hell, I thought. Maybe it's good in Arizona.
An hour later I stopped working to check my phone, a bit frustrated. Doordash, GrubHub, and other companies never take this long. The app showed me that that a couple of drivers had picked up the task then dropped it, and it went to a third driver.
At 9:15 pm, three hours and six drivers later, my pizza arrived. Anyone who has ordered a vegetarian pizza, especially one laden with veggies, knows it needs to be eaten immediately or you're going to be dealing with a floppy, soggy mess. Now, not only was I going to have to muddle through a pizza with vegan cheese, but the juices from the veggies had seeped all the way through the now-freezing cold crust.
I tried to take a bite, full of hanger and irritation, and it was more awful that I had imagined. Into the toaster oven it went, my sad attempt to crisp up a slice that felt like it had been thrown into Niagara Falls. It somehow came out tasting worse - the liquidy cheese sticking to my palate and burning it, to boot.
Now I was pissed. I tried in vain to bring up the multiple issues (including a missing topping) on UberEats chat, but after 20 minutes of trying to trick the system every which way, the AI nightmare-bot basically told me that nothing more could be done. My pizza had coded and it was time for me to let go.
I looked up the customer service phone number on Google next. I should have known to save myself the trouble after seeing that over 12,000 people had left one star reviews (seriously, look it up). Amazingly, I got through almost immediately to a call center in the Phillippines. After I went through my litany of issues - cold, soggy, 3 hours late, missing toppings - they promptly told me that UberEats does not refund or credit for such problems.
I was shocked. "So what constitutes a refund? Taking a shit on my food?" There was a pause on the other end of the line, and Pam from the Phillipines said unironically, "Yes."
It was then that I recalled that I had dealt with UberEats in California a few years ago and had had the same issue a couple of times. Both of those times, I was told that a supervisor would call me back. No name, time, or date was given. Just a cryptic, generic promise. And both times, no one called me back.
As Pam started apologizing for my experience (not really an apology UberEats, but anyway), I hung up. It wasn't Pam's fault that UberEats was so heinous, but I just couldn't listen to any more fake contrition.
I just know that some douchebag consultant from BCG or Booz Allen helped UberEats to cut corners by slashing the workforce, farming out the rest to another country, and wedging in a bot to deal with us peasants. Read my lips: I will NEVER, as long as I am privileged to lead Timberdog, allow anyone to cut any corners in my company, from the materials of my dog bed, to customer complaints. And I will always believe customers when they tell me that something is wrong and will do my best to compensate them accordingly. In fact, I am proud that my 5-star reviews reflect just this.
In the grand scheme of things, today was not a big deal for me. I saved the crusts of my pizza for my dog and went out for Chinese food instead. But today was a big deal for UberEats. Not only will I never patronize them again, but I will instead share this experience publicly and continue to use their name as an example of an unethical company.
I am appalled that they haven't gone bankrupt, as food delivery companies - even good ones - are already struggling and on the brink. In any case, I will take the experience of a food company literally not feeding me as a cautionary tale into the future. To me, if you paid money for something, you should get a decent product in return.