*BEEP. You have reached our automated system. If you know your party’s name and extension, you might wonder why they didn’t give you their direct line? Please listen to the following options: For inquiries, questions about your reservation, or any other problem that we will make fun of you for, please press 1. For a representative to continually respond to your problem with a scripted response without actually offering assistance, please press 2. To remain on hold for so long that the cell phone you are currently using will become outdated and no longer work with our network, please press 3. To hear these options again, stop doing whatever else you’re doing for a minute, you ADD freak, and pay attention. For all other problems, hang up, figure it out, and get on with your life.

I hate to use the newest dirty word, but this economy requires many of us to cut back. As consumers, we’re trying to eliminate frivolous expenses and are seeking real value in our purchases. We’ve learned that either the $8 bucket of soy-skim-latte-frappa-cappa-latte-chai beverage may not be a fiscally responsible breakfast beverage or we need to drop the $8 from something else throughout the day because the world would simply cease to be without our designer caffeine in the morning. As operators, we’ve learned to buy in bulk, seek better values in our proteins, find the hidden value wine gems, stagger our servers for more efficient coverage;,and write our menus so they can deliver great quality with fewer hands. I could devote a whole post to how we all are doing that, but I’ll leave that to a more articulate blogger than I.

The most alarming thing about our economic downturn, which is either continuing to spiral downward or beginning to trend upward depending on what cable channel you watch, is we have also become more frugal with customer service. And by frugal I mean an Ebenezer Scrooge-like death grip on customer service like it is a gold coin snatched out of the poor box at the church. Customer Service, more often than not, generally costs a company somewhere in the neighborhood of NADA! Sure, it costs to fix mistakes, send replacements, refund money. Empathy, concern, or even a general sense of helpfulness costs nothing, however. Even if the empathy, concern, or general sense of helpfulness is faked but faked to the point that I believe it and go away feeling less than screwed, it still costs nothing.

What brought all this on, you ask? What transgression has sparked someone to violate Rule #1: Don’t Poke The Bear? (which will also be the title of my book as soon as I find a publisher who enjoys the four martini lunch)…Well, let me tell you!

Since we’ve turned over much of the F&B management staff in recent months, I have assumed the role of Evil Overlord for the department. I have a wine/liquor vendor whose company requires a $350 minimum purchase (or 5 cases) for delivery. When we placed an order yesterday it totaled $575 but my rep forgot to punch in two cases of wine. He called me today; cowboyed up, admitted the mistake and apologized.

No muss; no fuss. Thanks for calling. Moving on.

He then said “I’d like to bring the two cases by tomorrow, BUT (my smiley face has turned to a frowny face… “but” is a powerful word) I’m in L.A. tomorrow for meetings.”

“No problem, just throw it on the truck,” I say, knowing how badly this is circling the drain already.

“Well,” he says, ever hopeful of escape, “if you want to order some cooking wine or a few more cases to meet the minimum, we can do that.”

My Executive Sous Chef, overhearing this conversation and realizing where it’s headed, leaves the office lest the venom splash on his shoes.

“So…in order for me to get the two cases of wine that I ordered but you forgot, I need to fill out a minimum that I easily filled yesterday despite the fact that my sales rep neglected to include it in the order. Once I pad my small, previously communicated order with items I neither want nor need, then, and only then, will my two cases of orphaned wine be reunited with the rest of the order and be delivered by a truck that will be in the area anyway?” I say in a voice that my staff likens to those pictures of the crocodile approaching the gazelle at the watering hole where only the eyes are visible prior to bad things happening.

Silence ensues, broken only by the sad words, “That’s our policy.” This phrase is rapidly becoming the “up yours” of a new generation.

I didn’t need the wine for a specific function, but that’s not the point. As the Executive Chef, it’s my responsibility to be a great representative of my hotel. When my hotel screws up, I apologize on behalf of the hotel and do what is necessary to make my guest happy. Similarly, when my team or I screw up, the hotel backs my play and takes whatever steps are necessary to ensure the satisfaction of the guest. My rep made a simple mistake, did the right thing and called, and was left twisting in the wind by his company policy. Customer service should ALWAYS dictate policy; policy should never dictate customer service. Leave that to the insurance companies, the medical profession, and the government.

Iron-fisted policy will handcuff most businesses, and it can cripple the hospitality business. Putting my wine on a truck that was already coming to my area costs them nothing in additional labor or gas. They’ll make money on the sale. We’ll have our wine.

Everyone goes home happy and I can return to being the sweet lovable guy that everyone….

Sorry but I can’t continue that sentence that with a straight face.