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What a Holiday Shipping Email Taught Me About Modern Customer Experience

I recently had a small but unexpectedly revealing customer service exchange with an online jewelry company.

It started with an email apologizing for a delay and offering a $40 gift card.

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“Thanks so much for your patience. Your order is running a little behind… As a small thank-you, here’s a $40 gift card you can use on your next purchase.”

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On paper, this is generous.

In reality, it did the opposite of what it was meant to do.

It introduced uncertainty without context. It suggested something might be wrong without saying what. And because it was mid-December, that uncertainty didn’t land well. My kids had ordered these pieces for their mom for Christmas. Until that email, I wasn’t worried at all.

So I replied. I’ll be honest, not my most articulate moment.

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“This is garbage. If this isn’t going to arrive before Christmas I want a full refund.”

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That email was human. Very human. Reactive and imprecise.

A different person replied almost immediately, calmly and clearly, with actual information:

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“I’ve checked your order and the current estimated delivery window is still December 8–18, so everything is presently on track to arrive before Christmas… If anything changes, we’ll step in right away to make things right.”

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That one response completely changed the tone of the interaction.

With that clarity, I followed up. This time not as an irate customer, but as someone fascinated by the exchange so far and eager to offer feedback:

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“I wasn’t worried about them not arriving in time until the ambiguous email. If most orders are still expected by Christmas, an apology and reassurance they’re on the way will go much farther than $40 and no clarity. Hopefully this feedback is useful and can save you comped revenue in the future.”

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That was the real issue all along. The problem wasn’t the delay. The problem was uncertainty.

A Lesson in Marketing

The first email tried to solve the wrong problem.

It assumed customers needed compensation. What I actually needed was reassurance.

I think the lesson here is that money without narrative feels like hush money. Narrative without money feels like leadership.

In high-emotion, time-bound moments like the holidays, clarity is the currency. If most orders are still expected to arrive on time, that should be the headline. Lead with certainty. Use money as a supplement, not a substitute.

Ironically, better messaging here probably saves the company money. Fewer panicked customers. Fewer refund requests. Fewer escalations.

This isn’t about generosity. It’s about intent.

Suspecious Velocity

After I sent that feedback, the response came back fast. Really fast. Thoughtful. Structured. Directly addressing what I’d said.

Fast enough that I paused.

So I asked, half-curious and half-amused:

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“This is too long and well worded a response to have been written by a human in under a minute. I’m assuming you’re an AI, yes?”

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The reply:

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“I’m a real person, but I use templates and tools to help me respond quickly.”

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Which I actually believe. I think.

There is almost certainly a human accountable for that inbox. But the draft itself was very likely AI-assisted. And that’s not a criticism. It’s just the modern operating model.

What surprised me wasn’t the use of AI. It was my own reaction to it.

Automation, used badly and used well

The company used automation badly in the first email and well in the second. Same tools. Opposite outcomes.

The first message optimized for throughput. It triggered automatically, prioritized scale, and ignored context.

The second optimized for reassurance. It incorporated order-specific details, acknowledged emotion, and restored certainty.

The difference wasn’t intelligence.

It was intent.

AI didn’t erode trust here. Poor framing did. AI helped rebuild it.

Trust, money, and modern customer experience

We hear a lot about AI making customer experience feel cold or impersonal. My experience here was almost the inverse.

The first and most disruptive message in the exchange (aside from my initial reply) was likely written, or at least copy-reviewed, by a human or marketing team.

The most stabilizing messages were likely AI-augmented.

That inversion is becoming common.

Trust is shifting away from who authored the words and toward how the system behaves when things feel uncertain. Does it clarify? Does it contextualize? Does it respond proportionally?

When it does, most people don’t actually care whether it came from a human or a model.

They care whether the system makes sense and is helpful.

A final, human note

Humans bring emotion, urgency, and messiness (garbage?) into these interactions. The job of modern customer experience isn’t to eliminate that. It’s to meet it with clarity instead of confusion.

What I care about is that my kids get to give their mom the lovely little birthstone necklace they picked out for her for Christmas. What amuses me is how this interaction became a small window into how we’re all learning to engage with brands that no longer speak with a single voice, cadence, or tempo.

And I find that fascinating.