MIKESTOPFORTH

So often, when considering customer service (bearing in mind this is the classic splinter-in-their-eyes vs. log-in-mine scenario), I find that it’s the really simple, easy, intuitive, affordable common-sense things that make an almighty difference.

Take for example our experience at the Rose Cottage ‘eetplek’ in Dullstroom, the once quaint Mpumalanga village (now thriving metropolis), as we stopped for a break on our way to our holiday destination last week.

The first thing I see as I walk in to the place – in fact there were signs everywhere displaying the same message – is this intriguing notice:

Maybe I don’t know enough about the hospitality industry but I’d assume that when you’re constantly welcoming TRAVELING FAMILIES (which often exceed 8 in number) into your cafe, who most likely don’t think – “hmmm, we’re heading into Dullstroom, let’s make sure we book at Rose Cottage” – how can it be wise to put up a sign that asks them to leave? It tells me, the customer, that I’m welcome in their shop under certain conditions. It’s like asking me to wear long pants and a tie. Ridiculous.

So anyhow, we sit down for a meal, and order anchovy toast for my son. He likes such things, apparently. Waitress kindly informs us that anchovy toast is on the breakfast menu, and that breakfast is served until 11am. It’s no longer 11am. It’s 12something. I ask how much of a difference this makes to the toast making / fishpaste-spreading process, to which waitress answers, “I’ll speak to the kitchen”. I relax, they have realised the error of their ways, and will bring my anchovy toast.

She comes back. “The kitchen is too busy and cannot make breakfast now”. I plant fork in waitress’s kneecap. Ok so maybe not, but I imagined it.

Sure, it’s funny to laugh at other people’s dodgy customer service, but it got me thinking about the ridiculous habits MY customers may complain about when they deal with me. I wonder if one of the greatest dangers in business is getting so good at business, and so bad at relating to other humans. It’s without a doubt the greatest failure of modern corporates – in the quest for profitable greatness, we’ve grown empires, developed processes, engineered systems, created strategies, and forgotten how to speak to ordinary humans in ordinary language.