Patti

Have I mentioned that one of my Top 5 Pet Peeves is poor customer service?    

A couple of weeks ago I wrote about the store manager I encountered at a local supermarket.  I had approached him with a specific cheese which appeared to cause food poisoning to my husband, who became very ill shortly after eating it.  Let's just say I walked away with the same lackluster feeling I think I'd have had if a touch-screen computer had greeted me at the customer service desk instead.  

I'm a huge consumer, always buying an item or seeking a service from some type of business that puts me in contact with a company representative.  Most of the time I don't focus on the quality of the experience unless it's either glaringly good, which is rare, or bad, which isn't so rare.    

Last night's dinner was at a Mexican restaurant in Berlin, New Jersey called Los Amigos.  We've gone there many times over the years.  I'd never had a conversation with the owner before, until last night, and we actually had 2: The first one I initiated as I was hoping to obtain a table in a quieter area of the restaurant than where we were seated initially.  At that time, I assumed she was the hostess. The second conversation she initiated with me, as we were leaving.    

As you will soon see, this woman did not miss a trick.  She read between the lines or, shall I say, between the items remaining on my plate. 

Let me back up a minute.

I've been feeling like an old fuddy duddy lately in life overall, and I decided last night that I was going to change that, starting with how I approached my dinner options at the restaurant.  Generally when I order from a menu, I choose something fairly predictable and on the plain side or something I've had before (I know:  b - o - r - i - n - g).  In an effort to reverse my worn mindset to an energized one, I decided I'd go directly to the "Specials of the Day," where I planned to pick an innovative dish that would be fun to eat as well as talk about.

Since the entree I had my eye on had several ingredients that I wasn't familiar with, I asked for some clarification.  It was a chicken dish (that part I got) with some kind of sauce and cheese.  I admit that it didn't sound all that yummy but since the waitress seemed enthused, I decided OK, just go for it and STOP over-thinking.     

After a bite or two, I could tell that this dish wasn't for me.

Normally when I'm with the person who is unhappy with his/her meal, I encourage him/her to ask for something different,  but that always leads to a discussion on whether the food was bad vs. one's personal preference, which begs the question Is not liking the meal a fair justification to send it back for a replacement? 

I decided last night that the answer was NO; the dish was probably pretty good but for some reason I wasn't digging it, so I wasn't going to respond honestly when the waitress asked "How is your dinner tonight?"  Besides, she looked pretty scary in her vampire costume.

I  abandoned the chicken portion of the meal after a few bites but devoured the salad and rice.  I didn't want the waitress to see what I had left behind since I hadn't been forthcoming, so I piled up a couple smaller plates from the table on to my dinner plate and moved some stuff around so that she'd be picking up a pile of items, not just one with an unobstructed view of a nearly full portion of chicken remaining.

Luckily the woman who I thought was the hostess cleared our plates, not the waitress, so I was relieved.

A bit later, the waitress asked me if I didn't like my dinner.  Yikes. She was on to me. She said the owner noticed I left the chicken on my plate.  I had to laugh. Who would even process such a thing?

She asked why I didn't tell her earlier so that she could've replaced it or taken if off the check.  I told her I didn't want to make a big deal about it because it may well have been a good dish for someone else.  She seemed OK with that response.  Again, I was relieved.

As we were leaving, I was stopped by the woman who I would've guessed was the hostess but turned out to be the owner.  "Did you not like your meal?" she asked. 

Good lord!  There was no hiding this fact!  She wasn't messing around.  So, I told her.  

She informed us that the next time we come in, she'd like us to ask for her.  "I'm the owner and my name is Patti.  Your next meal will be on us," she said.  

As you can see now, this woman is quite the customer service guru.  She actually went looking for the problem and then sought to make it right.  She could well have ignored it not just when she cleared my plate but again when we were walking out the door. 

Now that Patti and I are buds, I'm sure it won't be long before I ask her to give that supermarket manager a call.