No Memory of Success

I interviewed for a new position in the library system about a fortnight ago. They asked me if I could remember an instance when I had resolved an issue with a patron in such a way that everyone involved walked away happy. It didn't seem wise to answer no, so I sat there blankly for a bit too long before launching into a rambling story that contained little that would impress anyone and possibly convinced my interviewers that I couldn't operate our RFID system. I spent a fair amount of time trying to come up with a better customer service story that I could tell the next time I went in for an interview; instead, I came up with an explanation of my inability to remember any of my most accomplished customer interactions (which I emailed to the interviewers—a good move?):

After interviewing with you yesterday, I was struck by how difficult it was for me to recall in detail any instance when I had smoothly resolved a prickly patron issue though I know that I have on several occasions. I first put this memory trouble down to the fact that I was in a job interview, but began to wonder if there was something else at work when, hours later, I still hadn’t dredged up anything worth relating. The memories vivid enough to function as relatable narratives tended to have some aspect that would nix any notion of their presentation during a job interview. This led me to realize a significant connection between a memorable encounter and poor customer service: allowing oneself to become emotionally invested in the problem rather than the patron. The surest commitment to excellent customer service is investment in the patrons. Problems must be addressed, but in service to the patron (rather than the patron being addressed in service to the problem, as this tends to upset the patron and the problem is rarely bothered either way). So it seems possible that the reason I can't bring to mind what I'm doing to handle an upset patron's problem, is that when I do it right I'm not focused on solving the problem as much as I am on caring for the patron. Because I'm purposefully centering my emotional involvement away from the details, I don't remember them and, as a result, don't have any compelling good customer service stories.

The email didn't include my assessment that I was both better at and far more interested in solving problems than serving patrons; that thought, however, is what finally led me to what, hopefully, will be a usable answer for next time: if another, more empathic coworker is present, she could be given the task of talking to the patron while I determine the root of the problem and set all to rights. That sounds like good management to me: putting staff where their talents are best utilized. And, even though I may be happier sorting out problems, I have stepped in to calm patrons when a coworker less empathic than I am has threatened to speak to them; I can, when the need arises, keep a calm and friendly demeanor toward the customer and either find my fellow most suited to solving the problem or tackle it myself.