One of my clients’ brand mantras is Creating Exceptional Experiences.
Another is the Premiere Provider of a speciality product in their industry.
A major component in my StrengthFinder coaching is helping individuals find their own uniqueness and work to make it a remarkable quality.
I have written on this blog about the need for organizations to be “THE” _________ rather than “A” ___________. The difference being the singular distinction.
All of that positivity must afford me the occasional right to rant about a restaurant experience that will end up as one of my top five worst – and stands a very good chance of taking the ultimate prize, should one ever be awarded.
The story -
Sunday evening four of us stopped at an Applebee’s for dinner. It was 7:55 and we were hungry. Having been told of the restaurant’s location by a local we knew it was in an easily accessed location, right off the freeway. But it was difficult to find because, although the sun had set about 90 minutes before, there was no exterior lighting. The sign wasn’t even lit.
“I hope they’re open,” someone said.
The promised 15 minute wait was reduced by more than half and we were soon ushered to a table in a section that was about half full. (Good sign) Menus were handed out while the hostess mumbled the name of our assigned server, “Dfjkwsmusvsru is your server and she’ll be here to take your order.”
When Dfjkwsmusvsru arrived, she dutifully asked if we’d like to try one of the two drink specials they were promoting. We didn’t. I wanted Ice tea, the other three wanted water.
Dfjkwsmusvsru asked if were ready to order – actually it was “do you know what you want?” and when we said we needed more time she quickly went to the back and fell asleep. She was gone so long that another server came by and asked if anyone had taken our drink order. We told server #2 that someone had, and she apparently didn’t think it necessary to alert Dfjkwsmusvsru (our server) that we were looking thirsty, because it was a good 5 more minutes before Dfjkwsmusvsru arrived with four waters and no ice tea. Well, that isn’t exactly true. There was an ice tea on the tray but she said it was for someone else. And away she goes again, for another nap.
My tea arrives and she asks again (breathy sigh) if we’ve come to any conclusions regarding our meal selection. We had and we placed our order. Nothing fancy. Nothing special. Chicken Fried Chicken, Three Appetizer Sampler (shared between my daughter and her boyfriend) and mine, a Bacon Cheeseburger (medium rare, please).
Two people ordered bar drinks, which is good because it gave them something to do during the ensuing 40+ minutes we sat and sat and sat. We think Dfjkwsmusvsru had fallen into a hole because we never saw her again. About 30 minutes into our wait, a service person came to our table with two plates and began to lay them down – however neither one was ours. “Oops, wrong table.” OK – that happens. No worries. “Ours must be coming next.” Sure enough, on the heels of the first errant server came another, with two more items not ours. Although this one actually argued with us, “Are you sure you didn’t order the ribs?” My memory hasn’t been as sharp lately so I asked my wife, “Did I order ribs?” She assured me I had not.
About this time, a table behind us gets up to leave because they’ve been waiting as long as we and were clearly jerks and much less patient – all four of us being highly evolved political liberals. The person in charge apologized to them and said they were welcome to go, as soon as they paid for the two soft drinks they’d managed to finagle to their table and suck down while no one was paying any attention.
A service person (not Dfjkwsmusvsru, remember – she’s dead) arrives with one plate – my wife’s Chicken Fried Chicken. She was going to politely wait for the rest of us to get ours, but we urged her to start eating. “There’s no sense in all four of us perishing from starvation.” Moments later the other two items arrived and we were asked if “there was anything else.”
No dammit, just let me eat – I am freaking starving to death.
At this point I would have eaten cardboard, which is damn good because it’s what I got. I am almost certain my “medium rare” burger would have ricocheted had I doinked it against the wall. Have you ever handled a hockey puck? The ciabatta bread was burnt. Sigh. The Buffalo Wings were cold. Oh yeah, speaking of cold . . . Back about 30 minutes into this fiasco, someone who we figured was a floor leader came by to ask “are you cold?” We acknowledged we were – (which must have seemed strange to her as my wife and daughter were all huddled in their jackets, teeth chattering louder than the booming hip-hop music). She must have been doing research because nothing ever happened with the icy air blowing directly on our table. So – feeling like frozen chumps – we ate. We decided to not say anything because we didn’t want to be there past closing time.
Food choked down. The last bit of tea sucked up through a straw, loudly. Here comes the bill. I hand over my credit card, and the guy proceeds to run it right there at the table with a little handheld wireless device. I’m thinking, “Hmmmm, this is cool.” Until he looks down at me and asks, “How much tip do you wanna leave?”
Oh my goodness. AWKWARD. I left a token tip – sucker. Absolute freaking whimpass sucker. And we left – pissed at ourselves for choosing the Applebee’s on 101 in Salinas.
The credit card receipt invited me to complete an online survey. One of the screens assured me that Applebee’s wanted me to have had a “memorable experience” — funny thing. At that, they succeeded.
Can you beat this?
