I had the pleasure of calling the IRS the other day. I expected to spend a fair amount of time on hold. They changed their hold music to tell me they were streamlining and improving IRS service by reducing the number of issues they could talk to me about. I was imagining if I had called a normal business and was greeted with such an announcement. I would take my business elsewhere. But the government has no competition. So I guess their policy is if you want something you’d better hope it falls within their new parameters.
Finally a lady answers and proceeds to tell me she can’t talk to me because I don’t have the proper paperwork on file. I explained that I faxed it in two weeks ago, and she said I must have faxed it to the wrong place. Then she said it probably went to right place but they didn’t process it because it had the wrong name, concluding with “ma’am I don’t have a Power of Attorney on file” as if that was somehow clearing up the problem.
She let me put her on hold while I faxed it again.
I was really irritated at this point, but I couldn’t lose my cool. When she got back on the phone I said I faxed it and I had the fax confirmation, which caused her to chuckle. Then she hemmed and hawed and said, “Can you hold for a minute while I shut the blinds, the sun’s coming in and I can’t see the computer screen.” There was my opening to establish likeability. While on hold, I formulated a quick plan.
When she came back on, the first thing I said was “the sun, wow, you’re lucky, I’m in Washington State, and we sometimes don’t see the sun all winter.” That was all it took.
She spent the next five minutes telling me all about her visit to Seattle. I listened, and asked questions, but let her talk, making no attempt to steer conversation back to the issue I had called about. After five minutes, we were friends.
The issue I had called about was fairly innocuous; the company had an incorrect name on file with the IRS. She told me I had to send a letter to advise of the name change, and she gave me the basic idea of what to write. However, because we were now friends I received some special insider advice.
First she told me the letter needed to be brief. She said they got letters from attorneys representing their clients before the IRS that were up to 19 pages long. She told me when she got letters like that; she tended to ‘not do anything about them. Then she said the Power of Attorney they had on file wouldn’t be updated, and if I wanted to talk to them again about this company, I would have to send another one in. I said that was fine. Then she told me how I could get around that by sending a copy of the Power of Attorney in with my letter, and attach a sticky note on it to forward it to POA processing. I said, “Wow, that works?” and she assured me it did. So a small favor, but a favor nonetheless.
I got off the phone, drafted the letter in less than five minutes and my problem was solved. Plus I had a new friend in the IRS office.
I’ve used this same technique on much more complicated issues. I’ve been able to get the IRS to abate penalties, reclass incorrectly applied tax payments, and even talk to me about tax notices without the proper paperwork on file, all on simple phone calls.
So you see, sometimes it doesn’t matter what the rules are, it matters who you know, and if they like you.
The key is to find a common bond, in this case it was a shared knowledge of a place. However it can be the job (we’re both just trying to do our job) or how the day is going (I’ve been chasing down problems all day, it sure would be nice if this one would be an easy fix so I can cross it off my list). Just about anything you can think of can be a common bond. Remember not to grow impatient while waiting for the bond of likeability to develop.
Yes, I was on the phone a little longer than I wanted to be. But then again, my normal hold time with the IRS is forty-five minutes. In that context, a fifteen minute phone call was a steal!
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