Most websites offer user experiences that are more pathetic than my workplace restroom. 💩
Allow me to explain.
Every time I go to the said restroom, it is brightly lit and has clear signage. The freshener smells great and negates any bad odors.
I feel welcomed and expected.
Once I have done my deed and I prepare to leave the booth, the water flushes on its own without me having to lift a finger.
I now walk royally to the washbasin and slide my hands under the soap dispenser and then the water tap; they both dispense their generous content without wasting my precious time.
I finish washing my hands and turn around. I place my hands under the hand dryer and within seconds, my hands are as dry as toast.
Everything is touchless, seamless. I feel like a million bucks in the most unexpected of places. The restroom is a mini-automated-heaven.
The only time I have to touch something is when I open the door to get out of the restroom.
The UX of several websites, in contrast, is the worst. of the unspeakable kind.
Every touchpoint is a pain point. The home page is clunky and navigation sucks.
I am made to fill long, autobiographical forms before I am allowed to do anything meaningful on the site. And when I finally get it, the pop-ups launch a blitzkrieg on my face.
Their pricing plans go over my head and their payment page looks shady AF.
When I need support, a touch or two doesn’t suffice. I have to dive deep into the dark patterns of the site map or juggle between phone, email, and chat just to talk to the right person.
On one hand, we have a VC-funded business where every touch is a pain. On the other hand, we have a Saint Gobain-fitted restroom that offers unmatched UX consistently.
I must say—their standards are pretty loo.