In Defense of Customer Service

Having been largely raised in England I am used to a standard of customer service that hovers around the "piss poor" mark. Case in point...it did not surprise me in the least that a cab driver, called to pick us up at our home, got lost on the way and cussed US out (under his breath) that we led him on a wild goose chase. Or the hotel manager that cussed us out (under his breath) and gave us general hell because we were trying to open the main door to the hotel, which they had locked (despite us asking if the hotel would be locked at night).

Sidenote: This is an English thing, and I am always sure to ask. They assured us that no, the hotel wouldn't be locked. But it was. We thought that the door was just stuck, as they had told us it would be unlocked. Then the cussing began.

We also got cussed out (under his breath) by the pizza delivery guy who got lost on the way and delivered us a stone cold pizza for the equivilent of $50 (damn that exchange rate).

By the way, the cussing basically goes like this. "Bloody woman, doesn't know how to bloody get to her own bloody house, bloody, bloody, rumble, grumble". I always want to say "I can hear you, you know. I'm standing right here".

Another sidenote: Brits are infamous for stooping to gender stereotypes at the drop of a hat. You are not merely "stupid", you become "a stupid woman". Lovely.

Basically, English customer service revolves around one basic principle...you'll get whatever we choose to give you, and you'll like it. No refunds. No money off. No recourse. You'll get it, and you'll like it. This also applies to fast food ("These fries are cold!". "So?") and any form of reservation you place ("But I reserved these hotel rooms months ago!". "So?").

So, it pleases me greatly to come to Canada, and for that matter, most places in the States, where the customer is always right. It is a priviledge that I try not to take advantage of, but it is always a good fall back. If my pizza arrives in over 40 minutes and / or if the temperature of the pizza bag is below 60 degrees, my pizza is free. Not half off. No "so?". Free. If my heel falls off my shoe, it is replaced. Free. No questions asked. Jewellery stores ask "Can we clean your rings for free?", Kernels hands out free popcorn samples, and I get a free pickle with my deli sandwich because they felt like it.

This is all leading up to a point, I swear.

MF went to The Keg on Tuesday for lunch with a friend (the Keg is a steak restaurant...a little upscale but not stuffy). They don't go often at all, and this was a treat. They ordered steaks medium rare but MF's came chicago-d (charred) and medium well. They called over the waitress and asked about the steak. No questions asked, she put a new steak on. She asked how the friends steak was, to which he said it was ok, a little over what he would have liked, but he was fine. She insisted on replacing his steak also. Then the manager came over, had a nice chat with them, apologized, and insisted their steaks would be there within two minutes. They were. When the "bill" came, it just said "Your meals are on us today". That's service. Almost over-the-top service, but great service.

Having heard this story, I began craving steak, so we headed out to The Keg last night (it was pay day, whee!). I ordered a rare steak and crab legs, MF ordered the large steak medium rare. Both came well done. Ooops. Normally, I'd just eat it (and not enjoy it) because I hate making a fuss, but the waitress noticed straight away that the steaks were overcooked. She insisted on replacing them. The manager came over, had a nice chat with us, apologized (profusely), and insisted our steaks would be there within two minutes, and would I like a heap of extra crab too? I did, and they were. When the bill came, the wine we drank (a $30 bottle) was free.

So, this whole post is just one long ad for The Keg basically. I love their food and they take care of their customers. That's service.