I had to tell you about a piece in this past Sunday's New York Times, called "The Hostess Diaries: My Year at a Hot Spot" by Coco Henson Scales. It's about Hue, one of those hip, cool places (or so they think) in New York that caters to the rich-and-famous or the gorgeous-and-famous or the rich-and-gorgeous.
Here's an example of their unique brand of customer service, as recounted by the hostess: "Initially I am too nice. I am nodding and apologizing to everyone who is unhappy, but then they freel free to keep complaining ... I often agree with the customers. They did have poor service. Waiters forgot their orders or ignored them. Why is the wait so long? Good question. Because one of the owners or a celebrity arrived with eight friends and needed a table. There are too many reservations in the books. 'Stop apologizing so much,' the manager insists."
And an even better gem: "Karim [the owner] is fanatical about making the lounge an oasis of rail-thin beautiful women. He drills me about the kind of clientele he wants and doesn't want. If people are unattractive, I must seat them in the corners or turn down the lights so as not to draw attention to them. I make sure the servers know to bring their orders quickly so they are not tempted to walk around."
I just don't get this idea of being rude or aloof to be cool. You see this sometimes in design, like hotels where only fabulous people can even begin to find the lobby bathroom and actually operate the sink or toilet, and the rest of us are made to feel like losers because we can't. And of course you see it with restaurants and bars, who purposefully make people feel worthless in order to make the place look worthy. This is short-term thinking, and it's what leads a lot of companies astray. For a while you may have a great bottom line, but eventually the cool people move on, and the rest of the world won't come near you with a ten-foot pole because, to be frank, you suck.
The author talks about how, when it first opened, Hue had a line around the block and anyone who was everyone was there. Less than a year later, it's empty. "We are not doing much business anymore. Some nights, only a few of the tables in the lounge are taken. Maybe it is the weather, or maybe everyone is over at Marquee and the other new clubs that have opened." You think?
Tag: marketing
Hi Katherine~
Awesome commentary! It irks me to no end when people establish self-worth at the expense of others. How did this phenomenon come about? I wonder if it is laziness... or stupidity? Whether in personal relationships or business, the rewards from making a connection in a way that is respectful and genuine is well worth the work involved.
Hope all is well!
Rebecca
Posted by: Rebecca Robertson | July 14, 2004 at 09:56 AM
Consumers are getting more ruthless than ever, but in a civil sort of way. They will take note of poor treatment in restaurants, retail establishments, at airline counters, etc., with most saying little or nothing but never to return. Then the clueless vendor can naively say, "I wonder where all my customers went -- must be the weather, etc."
Actually, I think this augurs well for more frequent episodes of good customer experiences in the future because under Darwinian principles only the fittest survive and in today's marketplace good -- not just adequate -- but good, if not superior customer experiences are becoming de riguere.
Posted by: David Wolfe | July 19, 2004 at 08:09 PM
I can't agree more with your word of wisdom - they suck. Tricks like dimming light on unattractive customers and making them feel like inferior is quite similar to some women trying to play hard to get. It may work for a short while but at the end, they are more than likely to join the lonely hearts club.
Posted by: Sam | July 19, 2004 at 11:20 PM
Good post. I was reminded, when I read the story in the NY Times about a new restaurant, some years ago, in my neighborhood which sits at the cusp of Greenwich Village and SoHo, so quite a few oh-so-chic new restaurants tend to come and go here over the years.
When that new Italian place opened, I stopped in to make a reservation for dinner. The rail-thin hostess pulled herself up to her full 7 feet 4, looking down her long, pointy nose to inform me there was a SEVEN WEEK wait. I declined.
Each night, limousines deposited varieties of movie stars and fashion models whose names I can never remember at the door the the restaurant, but no locals could get in though the excellent reviews of the food made it interesting to us.
Six months later, as David Wolfe notes above, the beautiful people had moved on. The restaurant was half empty most nights and no one in the neighborhood ever tried the place. It closed a couple of months later.
About two months ago, a new French restaurant opened in the neighborhood. On the way back from the grocery on Saturday morning a few weeks, I noticed someone inside and knocked on the door. I told the man who answered - who turned out to be the owner - that I was happy to see a new place filling this empty spot and asked if I could have a menu to look over.
He pulled himself up to his full 7 feet 4, looked down his long nose at me and said, "We change the menu every day and we are booked for at least at month."
Right. And we here in the neighborhood will wave as you leave with your tail between your legs.
This is an old, old story. In theory, businesses learn from previous businesses' mistakes. How is it then that the restaurant business in particular is so stupid, do you think?
Posted by: Ronni Bennett | July 26, 2004 at 05:01 AM