"Got any chocolate? I need a fix." Sandy dragged herself into my office. I know desperation when I see it, so I dug around in my purse and came up with the hotel-pillow chocolate I carry for emergencies. "Here you go, kiddo. Tough day?"

"More like a tough two weeks. I'm still showing up for meetings at the wrong time. I thought I got my Outlook calendar straightened out after daylight-saving time, but IT fixed it somewhere along the line. Now half my appointments show up at the right time, and half of 'em don't, and I just keep wandering from meeting room to meeting room like some kind of Type-A nomad.

"But the worst of it is, I'm stuck in e-mail hell with a customer who simply will not listen to reason. Look at this!"

I scanned the printout. From the vicious salutation (Dear Slimeball) to the baseless accusations and dripping sarcasm, I'd seen it all before. Sandy was distraught.

"This is so unfair! He didn't like our new delivery system. Did I send him the stock 'thank you for your comment' reply? No, I did not. I took the time to explain why the new way works better for everybody. And now he's calling me names!"

Generally, the only way a typical business gets compliments is to ask for them. That's why you see customer-response cards in restaurants, hotels and service centers. "How are we doing?" on a prepaid postcard is the business equivalent of dressing up, doing a little pirouette, and demanding of your clueless spouse, "Well, how do I look?"

Granted, there are those gracious souls who buy cheery note cards by the case so they can pass along appreciative comments, but they're in tragically short supply. By a wide margin, when customers send unsolicited e-mail, they're complaining.

If you've bought the company mission statement and committed yourself to customer service, those complaints can be a real shock. You may have been picturing your typical customer as a model citizen. At corporate functions, you may even have seen a video in which attractive actors portray your customers as a cross between the Cleavers and the Cosbys. Who can blame you for breaking down when you discover you've devoted your life to a vicious, linguistically challenged miscreant?

I still recall the day my illusions shattered. I was working for a cable-TV company that had changed its schedule. I took a call from a foul-mouthed woman who swore vengeance against me and my kind. Apparently, the sudden absence of Cartoon Carnival had damaged her children's delicate psyches. After that, I couldn't help picturing the Cartoon Carnival lady whenever my colleagues got pious about customer service.

I had to save Sandy from my cynical fate. "Here's the deal," I said. "If we messed up or did something that can be fixed, you can make the customer happy. But if they're griping about something we're not going to change, nothing you say will make it better. So for the sake of your sanity, don't engage. Got it?"

"Got it," Sandy sighed. "Thank you for your comment."

Erica Heath is a 20-year veteran of the corporate wars. Her e-mail address is ericaheath@aol.com.