Sometimes I think companies don’t realize how decisive the very first contact moment via their helpdesk really is.
Not the product. Not the price. Not the marketing campaign.
But that one moment when a customer thinks: “Great, this makes sense.”
Or, just as often: “Oof… this already costs me energy.”
Let me take you along on what seems like a simple journey: booking an APK inspection.
It starts neatly. Very neatly, in fact.
An email from my garage. A large national organization, many brands under one roof. Professional look. Clear message: Your car is due for its APK inspection.
A big, friendly button: MAKE AN APPOINTMENT.
Great, I think. Well organized. I click.
Nothing.
Try again.
Nothing.
No link. No URL. No action.
The button is… decoration. UX as wallpaper.
Okay. Breathe. Let the email rest for a bit.
A week later, a second attempt—this time from the brand itself. KIA. Cleanly designed email. My license plate already shown in the image. Smart. Personal. Trust-building.
Again, the button: MAKE AN APPOINTMENT.
Click.
Yes! A screen. Progress!
But… I have to enter all my details. Name, phone number, email. They know my license plate, but not me as a person. Strange, but fine. I fill everything in.
Then the choice:
– APK only
– Maintenance + APK (APK = free)
Being Dutch, I of course choose the second option. Free is free.
My APK expires on January 30, so this should work.
Next screen: choose your day and time.
First available option: end of March.
Excuse me?
Back one step. Fine—APK only then.
Ah. Mid-January. That does work. Great. Agreed.
I click Confirm.
Nothing.
Again.
Nothing.
Checked all fields. Everything correct.
The system refuses. No explanation. No error message. No help.
Grrr.
Never mind. I’ll call tomorrow.
A few hours later, I receive an email:
“Don’t forget to complete your workshop appointment.”
Hey, that’s attentive. Pleasantly surprised, I click.
All my details are still there. Nicely saved. That feels like service.
Next step: Select your location.
Done.
Then a screen appears with a list of options: what does the workshop need to do?
Uh… no idea. Isn’t that your expertise?
I click a few things. We’ll see.
Click Next.
Error.
This website is temporarily under maintenance. Please try again tomorrow.
I close my laptop, defeated.
The next morning: plan B. Calling.
I google the garage in Apeldoorn.
Under the search result appears a nice button: Call us. Fantastic. Mobile-friendly. Click.
Dead line.
Okay… try again.
“Garage name + Apeldoorn.”
Their website shows a list of brands. I click KIA.
The phone rings. And rings. And rings.
After eight minutes: click.
“Hi—”
Tuut tuut tuut.
Seriously?
Another attempt. Deeper on the website. All the way at the bottom.
Ah. A different number. 055-…
I call.
Yes! A woman answers.
I start explaining my story, thinking I’ve reached the local branch.
“Which location are you looking for?” she asks.
Apeldoorn.
Click.
Transferred.
Hold music.
Four minutes later: another woman.
She has no idea why I’m calling. Of course not—the story wasn’t passed on.
Eventually, it works. I get an appointment. The inspection takes 3.5 hours.
Replacement transport is possible. For a fee.
Am I happy? No. Of course not.
But anyway.
Why am I telling you this?
The question that keeps nagging me:
Why didn’t I just call a small, local garage?
Where someone picks up immediately. Thinks along. And fixes it in one go.
Why is this so often so difficult with large organizations?
They’re slow. Siloed. Systems don’t talk to each other. Marketing, IT, customer service, and the workshop feel like separate worlds. Everyone optimizes their own piece, but no one owns the entire customer journey.
And that’s exactly where it goes wrong.
The first contact moment is not a side issue. It is the experience.
It determines trust. Patience. Loyalty.
With all the data, tooling, and AI available today, this should be easier than ever. Smart recognition. Proactive help. Clear choices. A human fallback when systems fail.
An optimal user experience isn’t a luxury.
It’s how you win customers.
And more importantly: how you keep them.
And sometimes… one properly working button is all it takes.