You May Already Be a Whiner: Fulfilling promotions can be an unfulfilling task.

It feels like the thousandth call of the day. I take a deep breath, hoping the person who picks up will remember the contest she entered. I review the prize fact sheet, her stats, and get ready to sound like a telephone Santa: “Congratulations, Betty, you’re the grand prize winner of . . . .”

You’d think this would be the fun part of the job. No. This is where Real Hell begins: when the winner picks up the phone.

My promotional marketing firm handles its own prize fulfillment. That means that, some days, my biggest asset is a positive attitude. There’s no room to be curt with consumers. No matter how rude or demanding winners can be, they’re still the clients’ customers, and there’s nothing worse than a dissatisfied customer.

It’s not politically correct to say, but agency executives who’ve been there know it’s true: Some winners are real losers. I’ve awarded a vacation to a couple who faked a miscarriage to change their travel dates, a cruise to a pair who wanted a do-over when the ship hit bad weather, a spa trip to a woman who complained that she didn’t like lavender oil. Hey, tell the masseuse, not me.

There’s a phenomenon we call “the first-call winner debate.” Invariably, the first consumer we call interrupts the greeting to say, “I didn’t enter that contest,” or “I never shopped at your store,” or “I don’t even like that product.” Maybe they’ve received too many telemarketing come-ons, but some folks are very suspicious.

Some prize packages are more complicated to fulfill than others. Cash giveaways are simplest; trips are a moderate hassle. The toughest is service packages – a year’s worth of housecleaning, groceries, child care, or laundry service. These account for 85 percent of our business, because they’re great for building loyalty to the brand and word of mouth. (Who wouldn’t brag about getting a pass on all those household chores?)

Sometimes it’s a love-hate thing. A woman I’ll call “Kathy” won a year’s worth of spa services. She entered the sweeps many times at the grocery store, and was thrilled to win. We asked which local spa she’d like to visit and what services she wanted. “Well,” Kathy hesitated, “I don’t like to have my hair done. I don’t want a facial. I could never let someone massage me.” She ended up with a lifetime supply of shampoo – which, I assume, she will apply to her own head in the privacy of her home. I’m not sure why she entered at all. (Maybe she thought “spa” was a new kind of car.)

Another winner – let’s call her “Mary” – won a year’s worth of dry-cleaning and housecleaning service. She chose service providers in her neighborhood, and we paid the tab. Mary called me four weeks later in a panic. “The dry cleaner stained my blouse and the cleaning service was late last week. You have to do something about this!” From 800 miles away? I suggested she talk to the dry cleaner herself and call the house service to reschedule.

“Steve” was ecstatic when he won a trip for four to a family resort. I explained the affidavits and releases he would need to sign and have notarized. “No problem,” he said. But the forms came back without his Social Security number, and no notarization. I called, and he berated me for invading his privacy. I explained we needed the information for taxes. “Taxes!” he huffed. Steve didn’t read the boldface print that said he’d be taxed the cash value of the trip. Suffice to say someone else’s family went to the resort that year. (I wonder what Steve told his kids.)

Then there was “Pearl,” the sweetest lady I’ve ever met. She lives in a mobile home in South Carolina, and won a $6,500 package that included $1,000 worth of housecleaning – that’s like seven years’ worth for her tiny trailer. She called me to ask if she could have the cleaning service wash the outside of the trailer. Sure, I told her. She called back and apologetically said the bid was only half the prize value. Have them do it twice, I suggested – just not right in a row. She was thrilled.

Some winners, bless their hearts, really are winners. That’s what keeps sending me back to the phones.

Seven steps to less-painful fulfillment.

Don’t force reluctant winners to claim prizes. That’s the bottom line to the first-call winner debate: No one has to win if they don’t want to. Hey, this is America. Just call the next qualifier on your list.

Keep the winner away from the client. Fulfill prizes without involving your client. Hold winners’ hands yourself. If they start calling the client, they’ll call, and call, and call. Then your client’s headache becomes your headache anyway.

Always tell winners what they need to do. Don’t assume winners will read what you sent. Make sure legal requirements are in large, bold print, but review them with everyone just the same.

Meet deadlines. If you can’t deliver a prize on time, call the winner.

Offer only what you can deliver. Marketers love one-of-a-kind prizes. It’s your job to keep it practical. Don’t let a client promise the moon if you can’t lasso it.

Smile. You may be dealing with hundreds of winners, but they all should feel like they’re the only one.

Milk compliments. If a winner is thrilled with her prize and its delivery, ask her to write a note to the client.