Over the weekend, my honey, my Dad, my daughter, and I went to an early dinner at a local BBQ house since we told ourselves that we were all craving steak. I think I started the rumor. I really wanted a steak.
Shortly after we entered the not-yet crowded restaurant, we stood in line (with no other customers in sight), and bent our necks way back, Texas BBQ style, positioning our heads so we could look up towards the big menu on the wall near the ceiling, and there we all stood!
There we all stood—looking, thinking, figuring, trying not only to decide what to order, but to make sense of a menu that was totally lacking in information and completely confusing if you were not a “regular”. It was obvious that the four of us were lost in BBQ space.
Straight across from us and to the left, stood at least five brawny apron-clad male meat-slicers, with fidgeting knives in hand and no one yet to wait on. Not one member of the he-man group even attempted to acknowledge or engage us, even though they could clearly see by the looks on our faces, by our quiet and embarrassed whisperings back and forth to one another, and by our lack of movement towards the ordering station that we were stuck, puzzled, and frustrated about how and what to order.
The store manager, also oblivious to good customer service (and the behavioral leader of the man-clan), stood among them preparing for the soon to come evening rush. To the right of them all, and straight across from us, were two cashiers. The one closest to us was standing dope-faced and under-enthused at her register, watching us like we were lunatics, foreigners, or possibly even vegetarians. Another cashier— likely the owner because of her over-exaggerated expression of self-importance— had just come up to the second register while on the phone, pretending to be super busy, getting something from the cash drawer, and purposely ignoring us (because if she acknowledged that she saw us, she’d have to wait on us).
Now, the four of us steak-cravers stood there for at least 8 minutes, huddling and sighing, and trying not to look too much like idiots who couldn’t order a simple BBQ plate or steak. The real idiots, however, were the staff members, and particularly the main cashier (I always blame the management), who allowed us to remain confused and unattended for such a long period of time (an eternity in the land of customers) without ever offering us assistance, asking if we had any questions, or helping us understand their “void-of-pertinent information” menu.
We stepped up to the register. We began asking questions to the numb, bland, expressionless and barely voiceless cashier who had been motionlessly watching us since we walked into the place. I think her name was Bambi, or Clueless, or something.
Her answers to our “what’s on the seniors BBQ plate”, “what’s the difference between a side and a side-order”, “what comes with the FREE buffet and what does not”, and “what comes with the 8 oz. steak dinner” confused us even more, and when we (mainly me) tried to clarify, she made things a lot worse, and a lot more confusing, and if that weren’t bad enough, she could utterly care less.
I finally ordered myself a simple burger instead of a steak because I was
exhausted from being confused. She did manage to ask me if I wanted mayo or mustard, but she added a wide-eyed sarcastic expression as she asked (I guess she was getting annoyed at us being annoyed). “MAYO, not mustard” I said clearly, slinging my own version of her “Pissy Face” right back at her. She blatantly and confidently pressed a spot on her cash register and from there I walked off in utter frustration, leaving my husband, daughter, and dad to finish the rest of the ordering. At that point, it was every man for himself.
I’m a nice lady, but as I’ve said before, I am incapable of B_ _ _ S _ _ _! Just after I left the register, I politely but firmly spoke over the meat-slicing counter to the manager, “you’d probably have a nice restaurant here if your customer service was good”. Then I walked to my table without waiting for his response. I find when you confront people nicely but clearly, with a definitive statement, they respond, and they usually respond well. (A fantasy of mine is to some day be one of those secret shoppers who spies on businesses and then goes around informing management of all the wonderful things they can do in regard to customer care to turn their businesses around (you should watch Tabatha Coffey on the Bravo channel sometime).
Not to be outdone by a measly former-New Yorker, the manager came to my table within two short minutes. He asked me my beef (I just had to say that) and I told him. He assured me this NEVER happens. He apologized and went on his way.
We got our meal and the food looked delicious. No complaints there at all, until I bit into my burger to discover that the passive-aggressive cashier had laid a double dose of mustard on me. I walked straight up to the manager for a fix (I was nice about it, I wasn’t going to give that woman the satisfaction of showing I was ticked). I even offered to let them just replace the bun so I could eat dinner with my family. I got my “new” burger, with mayo, in about 6 minutes. From that point on the meal was great and my husband gave me a big bite of his steak (it costs me half a cheeseburger).
Before we were half-way through with the meal, the manager visited us again with an offer for a FREE after-dinner fruit cobbler and ice-cream for each of us. I felt a bit on the spot—I was not looking for free anything, just decent service and help with the confusing menu. I started to say “no, that is not necessary”, but I knew the manager was trying to recover, and I KNEW my honey wanted that cobbler, so I obliged him. My skinny, type II diabetic father was also thrilled.
On our way out we kindly thanked the manager and said our warm good-byes. Maybe this was an “off” night for them all. Maybe the workers were treated by the management and by the owner the same way WE were treated by the workers and by the owner (the lady on the phone). Perhaps that’s why the workers had no enthusiasm or sense of customer connection.
This was an experience for sure, and easy material for today’s message, but really it’s really a sad commentary relating to many of America’s small businesses. The country lacks customer service, business common sense, and sometimes basic brains.
The disturbing part about this scenario was that the food was really good, the restaurant was clean, the décor was fitting (if you like the county-rustic theme common to a BBQ place), and the prices were fair, but that was NOT enough. People want you and your establishment to be EXCEPTIONAL, to be AMAZING, particularly in the department of customer service. No one wants to pay for a bad experience. They may purchase it the first time through ignorance, but you can bet your 10-gallon hat they won’t come back.
The cheapest steak that night at our local BBQ place ran around 15 bucks, the most expensive around 30. The cheeseburgers were around 8. I went out to dinner looking for a steak, but in frustration and desperation, I ordered a cheeseburger instead. That restaurant lost at least 20 dollars on my sale alone, and my daughter opted for a salad, resulting in another loss in sales for BBQ HEAVEN (the name has been changed to protect the possibility of an innocent party). How many times a day, a weekend, a month does this happen at this establishment. Could their sales increase by 20, 30, 40 percent or more if they simply cared about each and every customer that walked through their doors?
Your Lesson and Mine
What about you. I know you may not sell BBQ, but how are you doing in the furniture department, the color consultation field, or in the wellness industry? It doesn’t matter if you are selling food, fabrics, furniture, or fitness. Your customers must be KING.
Don’t be an example of poor customer care that shows up on somebody’s blog. Be that Sensational business that everyone wants to talk to everyone about, in a good way. When they want cheeseburgers, let them eat steak!
Have a Wildly Success and Customer-Focused Week.
Margarett (Margo) DeGange, M.Ed. is a Business and Design Coach in the Home Fashions Industry. She creates and delivers custom training programs for managed businesses and their sales consultants to help them communicate better with customers and increase sales and profits. Margarett is a Writer and Professional Speaker, and the President of The DeGangi Group and The DeGangi School of Interior Decoration, with both on sight and on-line courses in Interior Decorating, Marketing, and Redesign. For almost 20 years she has helped individuals and managed business owners in the interior fashions and decorating industries to earn more while fully enjoying the process.
Two of Margo’s popular products for furniture store owners and their sales professionals are The Decorating School Crash Course Power-Ed Pack (9 design lessons on video/audio with 12 hours of content), and the matching Decorating School Crash Course Learner Files to measure learning, provide added interactivity, and motivate sales consultants to own their opportunities for growth.
Visit Margo DeGange’s website at www.DecoratingForProfits.com for more information. Send email and questions to her at Margarett@furninfo.com.