The Importance of Earnest Service

When someone doesn’t return my greeting the rejection I feel is as physical as a slap.

Rules about strangers speaking with one another are flexible, especially in big cities in the US. In small towns and in urban areas where people are so often in cars, there may not be as many random occasions to meet strangers.  

I was brought up in New York City where as a child, for safety reasons, I was told not to speak to strangers. Grownups had different rules. My mother was outgoing and friendly, chatting with fellow bus passengers or to women waiting with her on line at the supermarket.

Like learning a language, you develop a sense of when it’s OK to speak up. A friend once remarked at how forward I’d been because I remarked on a man’s necktie. We were leaving a Jasper Johns exhibit at the Museum of Modern Art. The stranger dressed for the occasion. He wore a bold, graphic, flamboyant tie inspired by the artist so I said, “Great tie!” He beamed, said “thanks,” and we all walked on. I felt that like some celebrities, he wanted the attention or he wouldn’t have worn something so loud.

Silence is a very powerful tool.

Because I am garrulous when happy, which is much of the time, people who know me might guess I’m either sad, scared, have a toothache or am angry at them if I’m unresponsive and quiet. But I don’t share mood changing stimuli like these with strangers.

This is no doubt why I find it aggressively offensive when I say “good morning” or “hello” to a cab or bus driver or a doorman, sales associate or cashier and I get back a silent stare or not even a look or any recognition at all. I don’t require a paragraph or even a sentence in return; a “hello,” a smile or pleasant grunt would satisfy.

It doesn’t start my day on a high note when I acknowledge a fellow passenger in the elevator at the office, whom I recognize as also being a tenant, and after I say “good morning” get back a bored, sour stare or impatient gaze. I realize that frequently in the elevator instance, my fellow passenger can’t hear me because he/she has an earful of explosive music. But the elevator cabin is so small and the ride is slow. It seems uncomfortable to me to enter such a tight space and not say anything, especially to a familiar face.

What is your feeling about silence–or interaction–between strangers?

We enjoyed an enchanting evening to celebrate a family birthday at a NYC restaurant located in a quiet enclave, Tudor City, near the UN. Food, ambiance and service were appropriately delicious, festive and charming, but our welcome wasn’t. 

In fact, the welcome was so out of sync with the rest of the otherwise perfect evening that the first thing I did on arriving at the office the next morning was to write the chef and his partner to tell them what happened. How would they know otherwise? And had the weather not been so bad, had we not been in an isolated part of the city and had this not been a happily anticipated birthday party a deux, we might very well have walked out and missed the rest of the evening.

After much Googling and web site scouring I could find no email address of either man, so I mailed a letter to the partners.

As Snoopy would start this chapter of the story, “It was a dark and stormy night.” And boy was it. Once inside, our eyes adjusted to light in the even dimmer entrance and dead silence ensued. We stood feeling awkward with our dripping umbrellas, coats and hat and had no idea what to do with it all or with ourselves. You get the picture. There was plenty of staff. Three people stood  like statues looking at us from down a hall, hanging out around the reception stand. I included both the great and the bad in my letter

I received an immediate response from the restaurant’s service director, Carolyn DeFir. Her letter was gracious and apologetic. She understood the importance of this detail which, for whatever reasons, the trilogy of greeters didn’t.

Maybe they or their parents never entertain at home. Why do I think this? Would anyone leave guests at the front door and not greet them, take their coats, relieve them of their soaked umbrellas, make them comfortable so that they wouldn’t ruin furniture or carpeting by having to toss these things somewhere?

Ms. DeFir wrote, in part: “I agree with you whole-heartedly that the first impression is a strong one and I am sincerely embarrassed and saddened that you had such a negative start to your evening with us. I do not want to make excuses but I will apologize and I think that perhaps you caught us at an off moment in ‘our game.’”  She also enclosed an extremely generous gift certificate to encourage us to return–or to give to a colleague–and asked that we let her know when we planned to come so that she could “take excellent care of you myself.”

Oh, the name of the restaurant? Convivio.

In a subsequent email correspondence responding to my query asking her if she wanted me to mention the name of the restaurant in my post, Ms. DeFir said she didn’t mind and continued, “I think the bigger lesson I wish people knew and understood is that there are 200 plus people eating in our restaurant a night. While myself and my management team strives to know how each person feels, we clearly cannot get to every single person.  I wish more people would speak up both positively and negatively while at the restaurant.  It gives me a chance to fix things or say thank you to guests while they are still in my care.  I would love to look someone in the eyes and apologize if needed or thank them for their praise.”

I understand her reasoning and her point, and I know plenty of people who wouldn’t mind speaking up about something negative, but unless I could figure out how to do it discretely, off in a corner, I’m not one of them. We always rave about the food, its presentation or compliment the service, if appropriate. But making a fuss, whining or complaining breaks the joyful mood not only for us, but for other guests around us.

When I explained my point of view to Ms. DeFir, she wrote, “I’m so glad you had the opportunity to bring this to my attention! I had sincerely never thought of it that way before.”

I recently wrote about the Service of Excuses where nobody is at fault or takes responsibility for what they have done or what has happened. Not Ms. DeFir. Her attitude and approach will insure our return.

Back to the unwelcoming welcome committee: There are so many critical jobs, such as the first person a guest sees at any restaurant, that some think are below them or are inconsequential when, in fact, the performance of these key people is as important as the chef’s or the cook’s.

Can you think of some other examples? How would you motivate people in unsung jobs or is understanding the importance of what they do instinctive, not taught?

Nancy Farrell wrote today’s guest post. A fundraiser for a non-profit, her first  post was “Service of Remodeling a Business Model,” [December 3, 2009]. She’s also a frequent commenter and generously shares her experiences.

Today she writes about two vendors who missed the boat with her by being unreasonable. As a result, once she fired them, there was nothing they could do to get her back.

She wrote:

Time and again marketers have proved that it’s less expensive to reinstate a lapsed member or customer than it is to acquire a new one. But that doesn’t always hold true, especially if you’ve managed to make the customer so angry that you’ve lost him/her forever. I’ve had two terrible customer service issues lately that caused me to take my business elsewhere.

The first happened with a credit card company. I’d been a customer for 15 years when a clerk insisted that I overnight my $13 full payment. The reason: my checkbook had been stolen and the check I’d sent them bounced-which I warned them would happen because the bank cancelled all the checks–but they cashed it anyway.

The voice of customer service made matters worse by repeating that I’d lost my checkbook when, in fact, it had been stolen-two entirely different circumstances, in my opinion. I told her that the next time I heard the word “lost” I was hanging up and that I wasn’t about to overnight a $13 check because that would be silly.

I mailed them the check via First Class mail and told them I’d be canceling the card. It was only after I cancelled it that they tried to woo me back with a $25 gift card. I declined because by that time there was nothing in the world that would make me go back.

The next incident involved a large pharmacy chain that has great hours but not the antibiotics that I needed and sometimes took up to 3 weeks to refill my husband’s heart medications.

I tried e-mailing their corporate office asking how much lead time they’d need for a refill. They sent a response saying they’d contact the local manager who then proceeded to bombard us with automated calls telling us when the prescriptions were ready.

When we went to pick up our order we were handed everything EXCEPT the pills we’d been told were available and waiting for us. One time, the pharmacist assistant’s excuse was that she wasn’t working when we dropped off the prescriptions.

Eventually they found the medications but I can’t overestimate the stress this caused my husband, a man with a weak heart. Every visit to the pharmacy seemed to generate another hitch.

Sometimes they’d only fill four out of eight prescriptions and they’d drill us: “Are you certain that you’re missing medications?” Other times the meds were in two different bags and they’d bring only one to the counter, leaving the other one in a back room.

We were finally able to determine that part of the problem stemmed from the fact that they were calling the doctor when he requires Faxes. So then they’d call again and he’d tell them to send a FAX. So then they’d call again.

After nearly two years of this nonsense, we’re now dealing with a locally-owned pharmacy that fills prescriptions for antibiotics in five minutes. The hours aren’t as convenient as the other store’s but at least they have the meds we need when we need them and they deliver. And Joe, the pharmacist, is a guy a person can depend on.

Within one business day of our asking Joe to transfer the prescriptions, the chain got wind of our plans and left us a voice mail message asking us if we were switching pharmacies because of the service and could we please call back. No automated call that time.

We wouldn’t go back to that pharmacy if the meds were free because we need them when we need them, not when the pharmacy gets around to rounding them up.

Joe said something to us I haven’t heard in years: “Thank you for your business.”

Do you have examples of vendors who let you down and once you’ve left them, try to make amends? Have you gone back?  

There was a car accident outside the door of a rug store we were visiting in Teheran years ago so we rushed outside and found a pedestrian sitting on the curb bleeding.  We gave him all the Kleenex we had to hold against the wounds and ran in to ask the merchant to call for help.

Nobody budged.  We were told not to concern ourselves and that his family knew about the accident and would come to help him. This was decades before cell phones. Unless the family had ESP, their arrival was unlikely, so we persevered in urging someone to call for help. Turned out that in Iran, the person who brings you to the hospital must pay the bill; nobody was in any rush to be a Good Samaritan. 

I remembered this incident when I read Thomas L Friedman’s editorial, “The Fat Lady Has Sung,” in The New York Times on February 21, 2010. He wrote about a revenue-generating scheme in Tracey, Calif. where callers have to pay $300 to dial 911 for help or for a yearly $48 retainer, as many times as they wish.

Whether or not you believe that anybody is entitled to anything, you may agree that cutbacks and fund-generating schemes are necessary in most communities these days. I’ve used 911 in two emergencies in the last three years and have been grateful for it. I would be happy to pay something for the calls-but $300 each time? Imagine a family with no money to spare whose five year old calls for help when her Dad falls into a diabetic coma and she saves him. In future, will such a child in this California town even be told about the 911 option?

I bet there are plenty of entitlements that could be cut before this one relating to emergencies. No doubt, it was chosen because it was so shocking and will get attention so as to soften up the populace to accept other cutbacks or charges-for-service without a blink. The scare technique is in the spirit of the old saw about the college girl who tells her mother she is marrying an ex convict 25 years older than she is because she is pregnant. Once the mother has caught her breath, her daughter announces that she actually got a D in physics, isn’t pregnant, doesn’t know a convict and simply wanted to put the D in perspective. It’s like that.

The NYC Fire Department rushes to our office building several times a year because someone has inadvertently hit the fire alarm lever or because a tenant forgot their popcorn in the microwave and the smoke from the burning kernels sets it off.  I’m so glad that they are this responsive. Perhaps the landlord should pay for these false alarms?

What do you think of as an essential service that you seemingly get for free—taxes cover the cost–for which you would be willing to pay a reasonable but not exorbitant amount?

What should our taxes be sufficient to cover?

I was listening to the radio a few weekends ago and after some patter between the host and the 20-something producer following an interview with an oldie but goodie entertainer, the producer groaned, “If I’m still around at 60, shoot me.” The on-air personality is nearing 60 and chuckled.  His audience, reputed to be even more ancient, no doubt rolled eyes.

I wonder if the producer read The New York Times “Metropolitan” section last Sunday (February 21) and what he thought of two of the articles in it. The first, “Senior Counsel, Very Senior Counsel,” might have also been, “Life for Lawyers Begins at 90.” Successful lawyers have reputations for being canny so law firms must have good reason to keep seasoned colleagues on board or to add some. In fact, John Eligon’s article starts with immediate past Manhattan district attorney Robert Morgenthau who retired from that job at 90 and has since joined a law firm.

In a different field, one that also requires memory, in “A Bit Slower, but Still Throwing Lethal Punch Lines,” Phillip Lutz wrote about comedians Irwin Corey, Ben Stiller and Dick Gregory. They range in age from 77 to 95 and will soon collaborate in a gig in a NYC suburb. 

And then there’s Paul Volker whom Wikipedia reports was born in 1927. In spite of the 34 years between them, President Obama brought him in to chair his Economic Recovery Advisory Board and supports his recommendations.

 I wonder if the producer had a mentor. I’ve been one for years because I can see how helpful mentors can be and I also have mentors, though missed this opportunity as a student.

It’s clear: Some students and potential mentors don’t get the relationship. It’s far more than about introducing a student to his/her next employer; it shouldn’t end when the student gets a dream job and anyone, even nonagenarians, can benefit from having a mentor.

Do you have examples of older people who have had impact on a business, an initiative—on you? How old were you when you first grasped that this might be a possibility?

Who hasn’t made a mistake? But sometimes, oversights and errors are deliberate.

Thanks to computers and people with lots of time on their hands, fists in the cookie jar, especially those belonging to high profile people or those who are blatantly greedy about the cookies they sneak, are outed.

Their transgressions are obvious. Their excuses are pitiable.

Take the spate of plagiarists in the news of late. Zachery Kouwe formerly of The New York Times–he wrote for the DealBook blog–lifted copy from The Wall Street Journal that covered a tangent of the Bernie Madoff story [of all topics...!]. According to John Koblin, writing in the New York Observer,  on learning of this, Kouwe’s bosses found six additional instances from the Journal and Reuters.

Koblin quoted Kouwe:

“‘I was as surprised as anyone that this was occurring,’ said Mr. Kouwe, referring to the revelation that he had plagiarized. ‘I write essentially 7,000 words every week for the blog and for the paper and all that stuff. As soon as I saw, I guess, like six examples, I said to myself, ‘Man what an idiot. What I was thinking?’”

Koblin quoting Kouwe again:

“In the essence of speed, I’ll look at various wire services and throw it into our back-end publishing system, which is WordPress, and then I’ll go and report it out and make sure all the facts are correct. It’s not like an investigative piece. It’s usually something that comes off a press release, an earnings report, it’s court documents.

“‘I’ll go back and rewrite everything,’  he continued. ‘I was stupid and careless and fucked up and thought it was my own stuff, or it somehow slipped in there. I think that’s what probably happened.’”

Writing for Salon, Laura Miller addressed the 17 year old German author of “Axolotl Roadkill,” Helene Hegemann. Miller wrote: “Hegemann lifted as much as a full page of text from an obscure, independently published novel, “Strobo,” by a blogger known as Airen.”

Miller again: “Count me among those who think that most plagiarism scandals are overblown.” But she didn’t include Hegemann among “most” plagiarists. Miller continued: “The daughter of an avant-garde dramatist, she says she practices ‘intertextuality’ and explains, ‘Very many artists use this technique … by organically including parts in my text, I am entering into a dialogue with the author.’”

Miller goes on… “If Hegemann intended to enter into a dialogue with Airen, she took pains to make it look like a monologue. If she viewed the writing itself as collaborative, she suppressed any urge to share those handsome royalty checks.’ Hegemann is up for a German book award, by the way.

And then there’s Gerald Posner, who borrowed words from the Miami Herald for an article in The Daily Beast. The Daily Beast’s chief investigative reporter’s excuse was perhaps the nerviest of all. Quoted in Newsweek:  “‘The core of my problem was in shifting from that of a book writer-with two years or more on a project-to what I describe as the ‘warp speed of the net,’ Posner wrote, noting that since June 1, he had published 72 articles with ‘intensive reporting.’”

Plagiarism hits a nerve with me but there are all sorts of people lining up with excuses for wrongdoing from Barry Bonds, who didn’t know there were steroids in the cream he used, to Tiger’s sex addiction which he hopes takes him off the hook for his actions.  What wrongdoings bug you the most or what excuses are most memorable?

HM Byington wrote this guest post. Byington is a retired international banker and an officer of J M Byington & Associates, Inc.

The respected British popular historian, Paul Johnson, is the author of many thoughtful, well selling commentaries on the modern world and what many consider to be the finest history of Judaism ever written by a non-Jew.

In reply to a question asked him during a recent C-Span interview, he admitted that the unemployment problem in the United States (and by inference in Western Europe) was certainly caused in part by our having exported many jobs requiring skilled labor to the Third World.

However, he also argued that our unemployment woes would best be cured by our focusing our considerable intellectual competence and expertise in capital formation on inventing and selling new products and ideas to the rest of the world, instead of trying to retain, whether by subsidies, tariffs or other means, our traditional leadership as a dominant manufacturing nation.

This is not a new idea, and is one often put forward by politicians and business leaders to explain away the problems that the dismantling and exportation abroad of much of this country’s industrial base over the past 30 years have caused.

I strongly disagree.

Almost all new products are refinements of existing products. They come about because someone skilled and proficient in their manufacture has a bright idea about how to make something better. They do not come like lightning bolts out of some academic think tank.

A fine violin must be played regularly to maintain the beauty of its tone, and the mind is not dissimilar. A sharp mind remains sharp if used, and if pushed usually becomes even sharper. A skilled laborer remains skilled if he uses his skills as anyone who has learned a foreign language can attest. If you don’t use a language, you lose it.

There is also the psychological issue. Someone who is un- or under-employed is likely to face debilitating anxiety or even depression. A craftsman who can no longer practice his craft is in danger of losing his will as well as his skill.

Some 50 years ago, along with other young Foreign Service officers, I took part in a seminar at the Department of State at which a futurist made the point that the gravest problem that the United States would be facing in the next century would be its need to manage the massive leisure time that its citizens would be enjoying. I never forgot his prediction, and he turned out to be right!

Just take a look at how much time and money so many of us devote to seeing the latest in films, on television and in spectator sports, playing computer games, surfing the internet, talking on cell phones, listening on iPods, poking BlackBerries, twittering and blogging, attending theme parks, going on cruises, shopping at malls, and on the darker side, consuming social drugs and alcohol, or just sitting around. If government is not our most formidable industry, then leisure must be. Unfortunately people at leisure are likely neither to be skilled nor productive, and even worse, our young have learned to mimic them. (Witness the decline in educational standards in this country.)

I suppose one could argue that this will not be a real problem as long as those skilled people abroad now providing us with much of what keeps us happy (and lending us the money to pay them for it) will continue to go on doing what they are doing.

However, I believe that we are in far greater peril than we dare imagine. It is an inevitability of nature that the most skilled will always come to dominate the least skilled, and we live in a world of diminishing resources and expanding populations.

If we are to survive at least with some of the freedoms we still enjoy, we must at all cost rebuild our skilled labor force and defend it against the inroads of those who would put the making of short term profits before the long term well being of our society.

Does anyone agree with me?

When it comes to feeling guilty, I don’t need any help. I was raised around sins of omission.

I feel guilty when I owe phone calls to see how people are [some don't have email] and when I’ve let time go by and I haven’t approached companies to fund raise for one of my [too many] volunteer commitments.

I am sufficiently haunted by these feelings which may be why I resent it when salespeople try to raise the ante on a purchase by flaunting the guilt card.

We went through the drill of choosing a casket at a well known NYC funeral parlor. It so happens that we knew that if we spent ten cents more than necessary, the deceased would have had a fit. In life, we’d shown each other respect and love. So when we saw casket samples starting at $12,000, I asked to see less expensive ones without hesitation.

The dramatic face of shock on the funeral parlor director was low-budget-movie-quality and made me laugh, although I was grief-stricken.  His expression and shrug as he took us across the hall to another room shrieked, “You sure didn’t love/respect that person, did you?” along with a dash of “C h e a p!” As we were leaving the fancy room to cross the hall to the one decorated in early neglect, I checked out one of the caskets with a $26,000 price tag to feel the velvet that lined it and in a loud voice said, “I had to see what a few thousand dollars worth of velvet feels like.”  The funeral director energized my touchy juices and triggered anger, not remorse or shame.

A friend of mine is researching venues for her son’s bar mitzvah and although I’ve not been with her to meet the caterers or hear their voices on the phone, from what she tells me, I think she’s getting similar treatment. Why would any sane person graciously accept prices of $400 per adult and $165 ++ for the children for a roof and some food and not blink an eye even if their wallets were in pre-economic downturn shape?

Maybe I should open a branch of my business to offer different kinds of exercises from the kind people get on treadmills. We’d teach how to parry such inappropriate sales pressures.

Can you share similar examples of where a salesperson counts on guilt  to close a bigger sale or to get you to buy something you may not even want or need to begin with? Have you ever played the guilt card to sell? Did it work?

I bought a nifty yoyo at a boutique yesterday and asked for a gift bag–in this case, a very small paper bag with self-stick label to keep it closed. “That will be $1 more,” I was told. They kept the gift bag and gained my annoyance. A full-priced store that charges $10 for a yoyo should give you a gift bag.

How did stores make a profit in the past when they paid gift wrappers? Now, you’re often given a box and tissue paper to do the deed yourself. Barnes & Noble still wraps books and gifts and during the holidays, their stores invite local charities to do the wrapping–what you donate is up to you.

This brings me to American Airlines’ charging $8 for a blanket and pillow: Now, really. Aren’t we inching towards the “oh, you wanted a steering wheel with that car? That’ll cost ya,” style of business?

I got yet another renewal notice from a magazine in which my renewal rate at a “savings” was $20 for a year and the blow in card noted $15 for 12 issues. But look again at that card. In mouse type was, “plus $3 shipping and handling.” It’s enough to make you cancel the subscription, which I did.

ATM machines can be fee-scalpers too: Use another bank’s and watch out. Bank fees in general strangle a budget.

Have you bought theatre tickets online? There’s a $6 to $8 per ticket surcharge that you don’t get if you buy from the box office. That’s the surprise as you check out. It’s especially deceptive if you’ve fallen for a discount ticket promo that touts 25 to 45 percent discounts because that’s no longer the percent of the discount at all.

The head-scratcher: Doesn’t the box office staff cost the theatre money? Why charge so much more to have someone make out a label, put tickets in an envelope and slide it through a postage meter which should take less time than dealing with a whiney customer at a ticket window asking a bunch of questions. And with an email address, that cost them nothing to capture, the theatre can pester a likely suspect from now to kingdom come about upcoming shows–at no cost.

Can you imagine someone in the agency business playing similar games? “Oh, you expected me to write your press releases and select media for the $6,000/month fee? That’ll be an additional $3,000/month.” [I know, I know, some do.]

What surcharges drive you nuts? Why can’t businesses do what they should for a fair price and leave it at that?

I used to take a Brooklyn to Manhattan subway to work from a station that was the first stop in and the last one out of the borough. One rush-hour morning the subway heading to Manhattan arrived at the same time as the station filled with smoke. Soon, across the platform, an empty train came from Manhattan and I jumped in it just to get out of what was an alarmingly dangerous situation.

This wasn’t a standard station in which you could run up some stairs to get out on the street. This station was so deep down that it required stairs plus a very slow elevator to get out. We could all have been trapped.

Neither the conductor nor the motorman in the middle of the train used the loudspeaker to advise passengers to get on the other train. It seemed as though they didn’t understand that their job also consisted of communicating with passengers about safety issues. Perhaps they saw their function was simply to get the train from station to station.

How many other people we work or conduct business with or count on have the same lack of understanding about the depth of their jobs and responsibilities? A doorman does more than open the door, accept packages and sort mail. A pleasant greeting is essential and reacting with common sense to emergencies are just as important as the obvious parts of a job.

Even though we increasingly specialize, nobody is exempt: There are many layers of responsibility and expectation with every job. People who don’t get this [should] lose theirs.

A fabulous PR writer I know couldn’t juggle projects or cover various topics simultaneously, key to working at an agency. Another former colleague wrote brilliant PR proposals and press releases but fell down on client contact. His arrogant attitude with heavy doses of–  “if you don’t work in NYC you aren’t worth my time”– turned off clients most of whom were far smarter than he and from elsewhere.

Contractors who don’t get that the updates about disruptions to a remodeling schedule are as important as impeccable workmanship; haughty or disinterested restaurant wait staff; collaborators who don’t share and customer service people with chips on their shoulders have all missed important layers.

What are some less conspicuous aspects of the job you have–or the jobs you’ve observed–that must be done as well as the obvious and in a timely fashion? Do you think employers don’t always point them out? Should they have to?