That's possible because Patient Infosystems' reps are prompted by their computers and read from scripts that appear on their screens (screen pops, a CTI feature). The scripted dialogue, which is generated with proprietary software called LOPs (for live operator positions) that the company developed, is hooked into Campaign Manager with a "proprietary interface," which pops it up on the screen of an operator the instant he or she receives the call, according to CIO Kent Tapper. LOPs also enable operators to scroll forward and backward through the screens--which is particularly helpful when multiple operators are involved in the same call or if a patient wishes to back up and repeat a question. At the conclusion of the session, more company-developed proprietary software, called DOX (a loose acronym for demand publishing system), in combination with Microsoft Word, translates and automatically prints out the results of the conversation in a customized report, which is then sent to the patient and the physician.
The reps' dialogue is all scripted, but since it varies according to the patient's response to each question, "there are thousands of paths in there," notes Brunton. In the previously mentioned asthma example, for instance, an operator would make a different suggestion or comment to the patient who was awoken nine times during the past month than to one who was awoken one time. One of the reps' biggest challenges is adhering to the script when patients prefer to veer. Included in the reps' two-week training session are role-playing exercises that prepare them for when a lonely, perhaps elderly patient wants to chat or when a patient asks a pointed medical question such as, "What is this red spot on my arm?" "We want to be friendly but not a buddy system," notes Brunton. "We still need to manage the call." The department appears to be succeeding: in a typical five-hour shift, 10 reps can reach as many as 1,200 patients--averaging an efficient two and a half minutes a call. (Including the automated portion of these calls, a typical patient session lasts from 8 to 15 minutes.)
From the beginning, Patient Infosystems made a substantial investment in technology--slightly over $1 million in hardware and software in the call center alone--and it has yet to turn a profit. Revenues for its first complete year of business, 1996, were $845,000; they rose to just over $2 million in 1997, and analysts project that the publicly traded company will hit sales of $8 million this year. Director of marketing Richard Holowka also anticipates that Patient Infosystems will "turn the corner" and make a profit in 1998. To judge by its call-center expansion plans--the company is building a second room to handle an increase in its number of reps, to 34 by this month--a substantial portion of any profit will be plowed back into the call center. But that's all right with Holowka, for without its call center, Patient Infosystems wouldn't be in business. "We owe our existence to the technological cresting of a variety of applications--not the least of which are strides being made in call-center technology," he says.
The 59-year-old Famous Smoke Shop doesn't owe its existence to its call center, but it could be argued that owner Zaretsky owes his to it. Prior to the installation of Famous's ACD, Zaretsky, who has a four-cigar-a-day habit, would typically spend seven or eight hours answering the phones during the business day and then, at 6 p.m., begin his job of trying to run and manage the company. He knew it wasn't a healthy existence, despite his claims that he doesn't "so much smoke as chew the cigars."
Today the Bronx native still has the deep throaty voice of a smoker, but it contrasts noticeably with his slim, fit, 50-year-old physique. The juxtaposition is hard to miss, particularly because of the CEO's uncharacteristic choice of business attire: spandex tights and fanny pack. A vegetarian, Zaretsky routinely makes the 80-block round-trip to his office in the Garment District on Rollerblades and does five or six loops of Central Park three or four times a week. Factor in a couple of midday trips to the gym each week, and the Superman getup begins to make sense.
Famous's ACD is what makes those athletic jaunts possible. Zaretsky can justify time away from the office, because, whether he's there or not, his phone system tracks everything he needs to know: how many calls are coming in (typically 600 to 1,300 a day); exactly how many of them translate into sales (typically 40% to 60%, a rate captured by using the ACD in combination with the MailBasics mail-order software); the average time a customer is on hold (the goal is no more than 15 seconds); and even when the peak calling times are (usually between 11 a.m. and 2 p.m.).
Of course, Famous Smoke Shop didn't install a call center to turn its CEO into a jock--it did it to improve its customer service. Had the Short Story-smoking Cara Biden called Famous two years ago, she might never have called back. Since Famous didn't have any kind of sophisticated phone system to handle its 32 incoming lines, Biden's calls would have been answered in who-knows-how-many rings by an undoubtedly harried and not very cigar-smart person. "Phones would ring on everybody's desk, calls were constantly lost, and employees were ready to attack one another," recalls Zaretsky. "I don't know how we survived. It was abominable customer service."
