The Cost of Bad Customer Service: A Cautionary Tale for Small Businesses

Have you ever walked away from a purchase—not because of the product, but because of the awful customer service and unexpected hassle?

The cost of bad customer service is more than just one lost sale—it’s a lost customer.

Customer service can make or break a business. In today's competitive market, where buyers have endless choices, how you handle a single transaction can determine whether you gain a loyal customer or a lost opportunity.

I recently attempted to purchase an antique buffet table—a piece of furniture I had been searching for. I had been browsing antique stores for a while but never felt strongly enough to make a purchase. 

This time was different. 

I saw a beautiful buffet table, one that was exactly the kind of warmth and character I wanted for my space—the perfect piece.  It fits right into that vision from a styled living room I saved on Instagram.

Before I even completed checkout, I made sure to read their shipping instructions. I saw they charged extra for bringing furniture up to apartments. Fair enough. 

I live on the 6th floor in a building where the elevator, like ALL elevators in old buildings in Athens, is too small for furniture to fit, so I made sure to include that in my order notes.

Transparency is key, right?

Since it was a Sunday, and I wasn’t certain about the additional logistics cost, I sent an email before making my purchase.

By Monday, I got a reply—good sign. They confirmed they could deliver to my floor, with a second mover costing an additional €15, which was completely reasonable. 

I placed the order.

Then, the circus began.

Red Flags in the Buying Experience

After checkout, the antique store called me. The woman on the phone asked me to clarify my delivery details. I repeated what I had already stated in my order: 6th floor, tiny elevator, stairs only.

I was just making sure they knew what they were working with.

The woman on the phone listened and then said, “Oh, I need to talk to my boss.”

A few minutes later, the owner got on the line. Suddenly, the terms of my delivery changed. Now, they couldn’t bring the piece up the stairs. “We don’t want to risk damaging it,” he said.

Which would’ve been a reasonable concern—except, I had seen their inventory. 

These weren’t pristine museum-quality antiques. As is, non-refurbished—already scratched, already dented, already worn. 

Then he hit me with the real issue:

"We need a balcony lift. That’ll be an extra €125."

And then, as if to justify it, he added, “At no benefit to me.”

Right. Because I was supposed to feel bad that my purchase was inconvenient for him.

At this point, it became clear: They were either disorganized or attempting to upsell me into a costly delivery method I didn’t need.

I didn’t argue. Instead, I simply said, "Okay, then I can’t go through with the purchase. Please refund me."

Silence.

I don’t think he expected that. 

Suddenly, he backpedaled. Maybe they could bring it up the stairs after all. He just needed to check and would let me know on January 3rd. 

What do you need to check? The woman who answered the email was the same woman who answered the phone and commented that none of their furniture pieces fit in any elevators in Athens.

Sure, I thought. I’ll give them the benefit of the doubt.

Let’s see how this plays out.

When a Business Creates Its Own Problems

January 3rd came and went.

No call. No update. No “Hey, we looked into it.” Nothing.

So, I called them. And just like before, they tried to change the delivery terms—again.

This time, they claimed they could bring the piece up to the 6th floor, but the original €15 fee they had quoted? That only covered delivery up to the 3rd floor. If I wanted them to bring it all the way up, it would now cost me an additional €40.

Excuse me?

That pricing breakdown was nowhere on their site. Nowhere in our previous emails. Nowhere in any conversation we had. It was a made-up fee, introduced after I had already paid.

At that point, I was done."That’s not what I agreed to. Forget it. I want a refund. I will not be buying from you."

The woman on the phone hesitated, then told me they would "start the refund process next week" since they were closing for the holidays.

Apparently, the following Monday was a religious holiday, making it a three-day weekend.

Trying to be as patient as humanly possible—given that we had just stepped into 2025—I told them I would wait for their call the following Tuesday.

Tuesday arrived. The store opens at 9 a.m. By noon, still no call.

I was done playing along.

I called them myself.

The same woman answered, and I asked for an update."Oh, the person who does refunds is abroad," she said casually. "They'll be back next week."

Huh?! What are you talking about?

Issuing a refund is not an international operation. It’s a button. Click, confirm, done.

I wasn’t expecting the money in my account that day—I was expecting the process to start.

She started throwing out excuses.

"It’s the holidays."

"I wanted to see if I could do it myself."

"There’s no one here that can do it."

At this point, I had exhausted all reasonable attempts to resolve the issue directly with them. So I turned to the one option that ensures accountability—PayPal.

And that’s exactly what I did.

Holding a Business Accountable

This is exactly why I always purchase through credit card or PayPal. Businesses that delay or refuse refunds are the reason platforms like PayPal exist. 

The moment they started stalling, I opened a dispute with PayPal with receipts—literally. 

Screenshots of emails. Dates and times of phone calls. Translated copies of their policies. A full breakdown of every step of the purchase.

And the moment I filed the dispute?

Within fifteen minutes, my phone rang.

It was them. The antique store.

Of course, it was them.

Now, suddenly, they were eager to resolve the situation.

But, I didn’t answer.

They probably realized they could have resolved this easily.

They could have called the “one” person who knew how to process a refund or go on YouTube to watch a tutorial on how to give a refund through PayPal instead of giving me the runaround. 

They didn’t want to communicate properly before? They could email me now—put it in writing.

Why This Business Lost My Sale & Future Ones

This whole experience is exactly why I will not be one of their customers…ever. I felt like there was an attempt to be taken advantage of.

And when businesses try to cut corners instead of delivering value, they lose both money and reputation.

It’s not that they don’t have good products. It’s not that I don’t want to support small businesses. It’s that they took no accountability.

Mistakes happen. Issues come up. Fine. But if you handle them with transparency and efficiency, customers will forgive you.

Instead of offering a solution, they tried to upsell me into an unnecessary charge. 

Instead of processing my refund, they delayed and made excuses. If you make excuses, change policies after the fact, or try to squeeze out extra money instead of solving the problem, you’re losing more than just one sale.

Instead of treating me like a valued customer, they assumed I was just another one-time buyer. And because of that, they treated me as disposable.

They lacked follow-through. After claiming they would call me the first time with a final answer about the delivery and the second time to issue the refund, they simply didn’t. 

A business that fails to follow up on its own commitments is telling the customer, We don’t value your time.

They lost the sale. They lost a repeat customer. And they probably lost others, too—because stories like this get shared.

The Real Cost of Bad Customer Service

Consumers today are informed. We research, we document, and we have recourse when a business doesn’t follow through.

This experience reaffirmed what we all know: Bad service is expensive. Not for the customer, but for the business that fails to deliver.

If you’re running a business remember: your customer’s experience is more important than the sale. Because if you treat one customer poorly, you’re likely losing dozens more.

If you sell furniture, figure out how to deliver it. That’s literally your job. 

If you work in customer service, help your customers. That’s also your job.

This antique store didn’t just lose one sale. They lost a potential lifelong customer—someone who could have returned for more purchases and recommended them to others.

Instead, they created frustration, wasted time, and ultimately forced me to escalate through PayPal.

Businesses that focus on long-term customer relationships, rather than short-term sales, are the ones that thrive. And those that don’t? Well, they’re the ones that customers stop buying from.

Customers don’t owe you their business. You have to earn it.

Have you ever had an experience like this? Share your thoughts—I’d love to hear them!