Picture the time - 1982 - New York City and I am fresh off the plane from Chicago.
I have three days and two nights to cover the place and commit it to memory. I am there with a group of friends and we landed ready to see "A Chorus Line" which I slept through - sorry.... and "Dreamgirls" - something that I was living for. Your life on this planet is a waste of time and effort if you never heard Jennifer Holliday sing "And I Am Telling You..." the way it's meant to be sung. If you don't own the CD, buy it and thank me later.
I had to hit all of the shops - Saks, Bonwit Teller, Bergdorf Goodman, but most especially - Bloomingdales.
The store looked very unassuming on the outside, but like a finely wrapped package, once you cracked the seal a world of adventure awaited - I walked in, went up the three little stairs and turned right to see the Cosmetics department - it was like heaven for a little teen-ager who was recently unleashed on the New York City streets.
All of the counters were perfect replicas of advertisements - it was like walking through the pages of Vogue or Glamour magazine. I couldn't get enough of the place and that image remains with me to this day. I felt like Beverly Johnson on a cover shoot. Salespeople were showering me with attention and I tried on so many different make-up options: I tried Chanel mascara for the first time. I discovered the true richness of a Lancome creme to powder and what lipstick is really supposed to feel like against your mouth - thanks Charles of the Ritz. It changed my life and made me promise to step up my game as soon as I had a real job.
Sadly, I haven't had that same experience since. The Chicago Bloomies seems like a cheap and squalid imitation to me. It's not dark or classic. The salespeople are not as knowledgeable about their product. You don't feel like moving in and begging for a job application.
Where's the magic, where's the power, where is the love? I can't even tell that they care. Maybe I'm trying for a shopper's high that I can never get again, but I still miss it - and I'll bet there are other shoppers out there who are looking for it too.
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Friday, July 2, 2010
Why Venture Went Out of Business
Back in the day when I needed school supplies, my mother would take us out to the Venture store in River Oaks when they sold notebook paper for 10 cents a ream.
Those were the days - we got as much notebook paper as we could hold, and I always used mine up because I was always writing.
I had fond memories of Venture, so when I grew up, I wanted to take advantage of their sales also.
I decided to buy a down comforter that they had on sale for $39.99. I had a full size bed, but I bought a king size comforter because I planned to use it as a bedspread.
At first, all was well. I was snug as a bug in a rug under my new comforter at night. But within the month, my bliss had turned black - the comforter was shedding feathers everywhere! You would have thought that I worked for Colonel Saunders, there were so many feathers in my apartment.
I called Venture to see about taking the comforter back and replacing it. I was informed that it was not eligible for replacement because it was such an intimate item that it couldn't be sold again, so they couldn't take it back.
Who would want to buy it anyway - unless they were taking the feather to put in a more reliable setting?????
Well, if you only paid $39 for it, you got your money's worth!!!!
What did she say that for?
I took the comforter with me to the Attorney General's office on my day off. Within a half hour of assorted coughing, gasping for air, and various allergic reactions at the Chicago office of the Illinois Attorney General, Venture's corporate office was called and a manager was dispatched to replace my comforter.
The manager even gave me my money back, and apologized for the incident. He said Venture wouldn't do business with that vendor again - and they never did.
My replacement comforter lasted long enough for me to save the money to buy something more durable.
Those were the days - we got as much notebook paper as we could hold, and I always used mine up because I was always writing.
I had fond memories of Venture, so when I grew up, I wanted to take advantage of their sales also.
I decided to buy a down comforter that they had on sale for $39.99. I had a full size bed, but I bought a king size comforter because I planned to use it as a bedspread.
At first, all was well. I was snug as a bug in a rug under my new comforter at night. But within the month, my bliss had turned black - the comforter was shedding feathers everywhere! You would have thought that I worked for Colonel Saunders, there were so many feathers in my apartment.
I called Venture to see about taking the comforter back and replacing it. I was informed that it was not eligible for replacement because it was such an intimate item that it couldn't be sold again, so they couldn't take it back.
Who would want to buy it anyway - unless they were taking the feather to put in a more reliable setting?????
Well, if you only paid $39 for it, you got your money's worth!!!!
What did she say that for?
I took the comforter with me to the Attorney General's office on my day off. Within a half hour of assorted coughing, gasping for air, and various allergic reactions at the Chicago office of the Illinois Attorney General, Venture's corporate office was called and a manager was dispatched to replace my comforter.
The manager even gave me my money back, and apologized for the incident. He said Venture wouldn't do business with that vendor again - and they never did.
My replacement comforter lasted long enough for me to save the money to buy something more durable.
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Hairtastrophe!
So it’s the day of the prom and I had an appointment with a stylist of a girlfriend of mine who swore that this guy could straighten my hair without a relaxer so STRAIGHT I would look like Cher… for a black woman that’s like a cure for cancer. I can’t remember what his name was, but I do remember that the salon was at Carson’s and it was considered THE PLACE to get your hair done…
I was earning a part time living then, flipping burgers and running the cash register at White Castle. This was one of my first forays into adult decision making – the other was a pair of high heels that made me look fabulous, but still make my calves ache when I just think about them. My mother told me a long time ago that beauty was pain and she ain’t never lied! When I was seventeen, I’d do whatever it took to me cute and I had two pair of high heeled pumps to prove it – right about now you can’t get me to try on a pair of high heeled shoes unless they have rubber soles.
Anyway, back to the hair. I’m at the salon, full of hope. My stylist comes up (no, he wasn’t a brother – probably my first mistake) and he puts his hands through my hair. Now, remember, he also does the hair of my good girlfriend from high school – Yolanda. Yolanda’s hair looks like a chiffon dream at school and she swears by this man. Now I really wasn’t a complete idiot, so before we begin this transformation that is supposed to turn me into a duplicate of Donna Summers , I asked him – are you sure you know how to do black women’s hair – have you seen hair like mine and can you make it straight without relaxing it? Oh, yes, no problem – don’t worry about a thing – when you leave here your hair will be perfection. I made another appointment for two weeks from that date just to make sure I could get back as soon as possible. Hope springs eternal!
Suffice it to say that after he washed my hair, he attempted to blow dry it. I don’t know if his arms gave out first or the blow dryer blew up – but he had to get an extra blow dryer to finish it. I will admit that my hair was straighter – but that’s not really the same as straight. He attempted to curl my hair with a curling iron and that was like trying to turn steel wool into whipped cream – it was a complete disaster. Seeing my increasingly furrowed brow, the stylist turns to me – “Well”, he says” I’ve never had someone whose hair was this difficult – and there is so much of it. Yolanda doesn’t have so much hair…”
NOW HE TELLS ME!
On the bus and I was ready to tear the arm pits off anyone who said anything out of pocket to me – no one said a word! By the time I actually got home I wanted to start crying but I literally didn’t have time – I needed to get dressed and I had to get over to the photographer’s to capture this magnificent moment for all eternity. My date was running on time because he was NEVER late for anything. My best friend ,Frances, came over to try and help me get prepared. My mother saw me come in the door, took one look at my now bird’s nest afro, and went to get the straightening comb – she just shook her head as tried to turn this disaster into something that wouldn’t send me to the Senior Prom looking an escapee from the African Bush. I don’t even think that the word hysterical comes close to what I was feeling at that point, but my mother and Frances worked hard to keep me from going crazy. I have no memory of where Alan was while all of this was going on.
By the time Edgar got there, there was no hint of the tantrums that had proceeded that moment. My mother saved my hair, Frances got my shoes on, and my make up was actually on my face. I took the cutest Prom picture, I was wearing a dress that the seamstress of one of my mother’s friend had made, and I had on a pair of heels that made me look smoking hot – you can only be that cute after such a fiasco when you’re eighteen – if that happened today there would be people in the morgue, and I’d be in jail.
I was earning a part time living then, flipping burgers and running the cash register at White Castle. This was one of my first forays into adult decision making – the other was a pair of high heels that made me look fabulous, but still make my calves ache when I just think about them. My mother told me a long time ago that beauty was pain and she ain’t never lied! When I was seventeen, I’d do whatever it took to me cute and I had two pair of high heeled pumps to prove it – right about now you can’t get me to try on a pair of high heeled shoes unless they have rubber soles.
Anyway, back to the hair. I’m at the salon, full of hope. My stylist comes up (no, he wasn’t a brother – probably my first mistake) and he puts his hands through my hair. Now, remember, he also does the hair of my good girlfriend from high school – Yolanda. Yolanda’s hair looks like a chiffon dream at school and she swears by this man. Now I really wasn’t a complete idiot, so before we begin this transformation that is supposed to turn me into a duplicate of Donna Summers , I asked him – are you sure you know how to do black women’s hair – have you seen hair like mine and can you make it straight without relaxing it? Oh, yes, no problem – don’t worry about a thing – when you leave here your hair will be perfection. I made another appointment for two weeks from that date just to make sure I could get back as soon as possible. Hope springs eternal!
Suffice it to say that after he washed my hair, he attempted to blow dry it. I don’t know if his arms gave out first or the blow dryer blew up – but he had to get an extra blow dryer to finish it. I will admit that my hair was straighter – but that’s not really the same as straight. He attempted to curl my hair with a curling iron and that was like trying to turn steel wool into whipped cream – it was a complete disaster. Seeing my increasingly furrowed brow, the stylist turns to me – “Well”, he says” I’ve never had someone whose hair was this difficult – and there is so much of it. Yolanda doesn’t have so much hair…”
NOW HE TELLS ME!
On the bus and I was ready to tear the arm pits off anyone who said anything out of pocket to me – no one said a word! By the time I actually got home I wanted to start crying but I literally didn’t have time – I needed to get dressed and I had to get over to the photographer’s to capture this magnificent moment for all eternity. My date was running on time because he was NEVER late for anything. My best friend ,Frances, came over to try and help me get prepared. My mother saw me come in the door, took one look at my now bird’s nest afro, and went to get the straightening comb – she just shook her head as tried to turn this disaster into something that wouldn’t send me to the Senior Prom looking an escapee from the African Bush. I don’t even think that the word hysterical comes close to what I was feeling at that point, but my mother and Frances worked hard to keep me from going crazy. I have no memory of where Alan was while all of this was going on.
By the time Edgar got there, there was no hint of the tantrums that had proceeded that moment. My mother saved my hair, Frances got my shoes on, and my make up was actually on my face. I took the cutest Prom picture, I was wearing a dress that the seamstress of one of my mother’s friend had made, and I had on a pair of heels that made me look smoking hot – you can only be that cute after such a fiasco when you’re eighteen – if that happened today there would be people in the morgue, and I’d be in jail.
Monday, May 3, 2010
Mary Kay Millionaires
I went to a Mary Kay party the other day and it brought back a flood of memories.
I used to sell Mary Kay part time and it was really a lot of fun. I had to give it up to pursue some other goals, but one day I hope to return to it. I thought selling Mary Kay would be completely unfulfilling, but I learned quickly that I was actually joining a dynamic group of women for whom the word “no” and “try” have absolutely no meaning – we should all be as undeterred in our life’s pursuits.
Mary Kay passed away a few years ago and I joined the mourners at a tribute in Chicago. Women came from everywhere to talk about how working for her changed their lives. Mary Kay had some sayings that you had to internalize and make a part of your personal mantra to make it – not just in Mary Kay, but in regular life. You were charged with more than just making women more beautiful one face at a time.
To live the Mary Kay lifestyle meant never leaving the house in anything other than full make up, a pair of beautiful but livable heels, and a two piece suit or silk dress. Yes, there is a dress code and no you can’t ever get out of it. If you don’t want to leave the house looking fabulous, then you shouldn’t leave the house at all. It was a hard pill to swallow, but it because easier as you realized that every time you stepped out of your front door someone was going to ask you to sell them something. It just wasn’t good business sense to be anything other than your best self. It was kind of like being a movie star 24/7. Once in a while I broke out in a pair of dark shades and lip gloss, but I got busted so many times I couldn’t deal with it. I don’t have the discipline to be THAT cute all the time, but I hope to get there soon.
Here are three of the sayings I internalized in my search for being my best self:
Inch by inch it’s a cinch – yard by yard – it’s hard:
When you join Mary Kay you go to meetings with women who started selling just as you did. They built a vast team of sales people and are living a life that seems unbelievable – until they invite you to their home. They surround you with enthusiasm and they applaud even the meekest effort. They offer tips and training and friendship and encouragement that you’ve never even heard of – I’ve been extremely lucky in the managers I have had down through the ages in my regular job, but this was a whole new level of encouragement. They walk you through the process and take you beyond your comfort zone to help you do things you never thought you could, and before you realize it, you have a couple of team mates of your very own. But you can’t be given the pink Cadillac until you master the fundamentals, create an incredible customer base and build that fabulous team. It takes time, and that makes some people give up too soon.
You may be the only Bible anyone else ever reads
Your job is to be a total advocate for the customer. You are Mary Kay and everything you do, ever person you encounter, every lipstick you sell, and every party you throw, has to reflect what people expect from her. It’s the same when you work for a well known company, and its more true when you work for yourself. You treat customers the way you want to be treated and you attain a reputation for being good at what you do and other customers will follow. Your job is to be a living representation of the best self you can imagine at all times, even when you don’t know what to do and even when it isn’t your natural inclination – you are the product and no one will buy if you are not selling your own competence. Every single day in every single way – you are Mary Kay, and you truly can’t ever forget it. I’m going to get my lip gloss as we speak.
It is better to be exhausted from success than rested from failure
You go to these meetings once or twice a week and every month you meet with a Sales Director who greets you with a warm hug and kiss, a comfortable chair and a chance to relive all of the things (not just Mary Kay things) that bothered you that week. You have to wonder how anyone could have that kind of time. She has a family, she has a job (yes she is probably working outside the home just as you are) and she has a life of her own outside of Mary Kay. These women are involved in volunteering for the community, raising their children, working with their families, and at the same time holding more skin care classes than you can shake a stick at. They set up a list of 100 goals (yes, I got that from them also) and they make those goals stick. They scratch off the achievements one by one – remember inch by inch – and they show you that your impossible dream isn’t at all impossible. They don’t allow you to dwell on obstacles because they tell you what has worked for them and they challenge you to overcome your own set of obstacles. I stopped watching as much TV as I used to watch and I don’t think I will ever get back to that old level, even though I left Mary Kay many years ago. We all have the same amount of time in our day – do you want to spend your retirement thinking about your time in front of the tube, or your accomplishments. You have to make time for all that is really important, and there is nothing wrong with having a bottomless list. As long as you have a goal you are still alive!
I used to sell Mary Kay part time and it was really a lot of fun. I had to give it up to pursue some other goals, but one day I hope to return to it. I thought selling Mary Kay would be completely unfulfilling, but I learned quickly that I was actually joining a dynamic group of women for whom the word “no” and “try” have absolutely no meaning – we should all be as undeterred in our life’s pursuits.
Mary Kay passed away a few years ago and I joined the mourners at a tribute in Chicago. Women came from everywhere to talk about how working for her changed their lives. Mary Kay had some sayings that you had to internalize and make a part of your personal mantra to make it – not just in Mary Kay, but in regular life. You were charged with more than just making women more beautiful one face at a time.
To live the Mary Kay lifestyle meant never leaving the house in anything other than full make up, a pair of beautiful but livable heels, and a two piece suit or silk dress. Yes, there is a dress code and no you can’t ever get out of it. If you don’t want to leave the house looking fabulous, then you shouldn’t leave the house at all. It was a hard pill to swallow, but it because easier as you realized that every time you stepped out of your front door someone was going to ask you to sell them something. It just wasn’t good business sense to be anything other than your best self. It was kind of like being a movie star 24/7. Once in a while I broke out in a pair of dark shades and lip gloss, but I got busted so many times I couldn’t deal with it. I don’t have the discipline to be THAT cute all the time, but I hope to get there soon.
Here are three of the sayings I internalized in my search for being my best self:
Inch by inch it’s a cinch – yard by yard – it’s hard:
When you join Mary Kay you go to meetings with women who started selling just as you did. They built a vast team of sales people and are living a life that seems unbelievable – until they invite you to their home. They surround you with enthusiasm and they applaud even the meekest effort. They offer tips and training and friendship and encouragement that you’ve never even heard of – I’ve been extremely lucky in the managers I have had down through the ages in my regular job, but this was a whole new level of encouragement. They walk you through the process and take you beyond your comfort zone to help you do things you never thought you could, and before you realize it, you have a couple of team mates of your very own. But you can’t be given the pink Cadillac until you master the fundamentals, create an incredible customer base and build that fabulous team. It takes time, and that makes some people give up too soon.
You may be the only Bible anyone else ever reads
Your job is to be a total advocate for the customer. You are Mary Kay and everything you do, ever person you encounter, every lipstick you sell, and every party you throw, has to reflect what people expect from her. It’s the same when you work for a well known company, and its more true when you work for yourself. You treat customers the way you want to be treated and you attain a reputation for being good at what you do and other customers will follow. Your job is to be a living representation of the best self you can imagine at all times, even when you don’t know what to do and even when it isn’t your natural inclination – you are the product and no one will buy if you are not selling your own competence. Every single day in every single way – you are Mary Kay, and you truly can’t ever forget it. I’m going to get my lip gloss as we speak.
It is better to be exhausted from success than rested from failure
You go to these meetings once or twice a week and every month you meet with a Sales Director who greets you with a warm hug and kiss, a comfortable chair and a chance to relive all of the things (not just Mary Kay things) that bothered you that week. You have to wonder how anyone could have that kind of time. She has a family, she has a job (yes she is probably working outside the home just as you are) and she has a life of her own outside of Mary Kay. These women are involved in volunteering for the community, raising their children, working with their families, and at the same time holding more skin care classes than you can shake a stick at. They set up a list of 100 goals (yes, I got that from them also) and they make those goals stick. They scratch off the achievements one by one – remember inch by inch – and they show you that your impossible dream isn’t at all impossible. They don’t allow you to dwell on obstacles because they tell you what has worked for them and they challenge you to overcome your own set of obstacles. I stopped watching as much TV as I used to watch and I don’t think I will ever get back to that old level, even though I left Mary Kay many years ago. We all have the same amount of time in our day – do you want to spend your retirement thinking about your time in front of the tube, or your accomplishments. You have to make time for all that is really important, and there is nothing wrong with having a bottomless list. As long as you have a goal you are still alive!
Saturday, May 1, 2010
The Hospitality Industry Is In My Blood - I Live to Serve
The other day Alan and I were standing on the corner of State and Madison and we were talking about the block. It has a lot of history for me.
The new building on the northeast corner of Dearborn and Madison used to hold First Federal Savings and Loan, a bank I started to work at when I was in my last days of pledging Delta - yes, that was a pretty long time ago. Most of the people who worked there didn't look like me, but there were a few, and they were extremely nice and mentoring. It was a college job, but it paid well and gave me a steady income and enough money to go on my first trip to New York and see "Dreamgirls" on Broadway. If you haven't heard Jennifer Holliday sing " And I Am Telling You, I'm Not Going" live and in person - you actually haven't lived. No disrespect to Jennifer Hudson, but the movie doesn't touch Broadway. Since First Federal was sucked up by Citigroup, the location was closed and the building was torn down a few years ago.
A few feet east of that building was the first location I went to find something to fill my time while I was job hunting for a full time job - I went to Olsten Temporaries at 7 West Madison - and met with BJ.
At that time Olsten was the biggest temp service in Chicago. They had offices all over downtown and River North. BJ was the head of the place and he interviewed all of the applicants personally. When he interviewed me, he let me know that he was sending me to his best client. I didn't realize at the time that everyone was his best client, it would be a few years before I found out how temp services operated. He sent me to the Park Hyatt on Michigan Avenue to help the General Manager get organized.
The Park Hyatt was the place where all roads led at that point. Other than the Ritz Carlton, there weren't many more exclusive hotels. The Park Hyatt was the preferred hotel of people looking for complete luxury. I got introduced to the concept of a Concierge at the Park Hyatt.
Working at a hotel is very different from a regular office job. You might come in at 8:00 am and leave at 5:00 pm, but there is a group of people who got there long before you and another who are leaving long after you. Hotels never close and the drama, and the stream of information go on forever. You have to get a briefing before you start your day - you have to give a briefing before you leave. A briefing is a synopsis of what you took care of , what you need to start with and what the person taking over for you or working in your area needs to know about what you did in case there is a question while you're at home. This ensures that everyone is on the same page and guests, as well as other employees, know how to proceed and don't have to reinvent the wheel.
When I get to the Hyatt, the General Manager is a tall, slender, slightly older man with dark hair and graying temples. I don't remember his name, but I do remember what he told me about working at a luxury hotel. Working in the hotel industry means your job is to make them feel as welcome and as comfortable as your best friend when they come over to spend the night. You're there to anticipate their needs and carry them out before they even ask you. If you welcome them when they come, find out what kind of room they like before you check them in, ask them about their plans for their visit, and what they'd like to do while in Chicago, you can prepare a list of suggestions that will work for them before they've even unpacked. When is the last time you got that kind of service from your hotel? Every full service hotel should offer that kind of service, and once you've had it, you won't be able to go back to the other stuff.
I was only there to organize an exhaustive list of former guests and their preferences but I made the most of my time there. I got to learn how to serve people who are some of the most well known in the country. Before "The Devil Wears Prada", I was getting my own tutorial in dealing with unusual demands and how to get people to do things they never thought they would do. It was a job in the beginning, but before it was over - it was a calling.
It was fascinating to see people you had read about, watched on the big screen or on TV come into the hotel and get treated to a level of luxury you seldom see. We took their messages, we made their dinner arrangements, we ordered their limos, we delivered breakfast. There was literally no limit to what a day in my life might entail.
Working in a hotel (at that time) means you come in early through a side door. It's part of the fantasy world of a hotel - you just appear before the guests like a fairy godmother and solve their problems. Since I worked during the day I got to eat a monstrous breakfast that was made to my specifications every morning. Think omelettes with mushrooms, onions, and sausage on a bed of fresh hash browns and real fresh squeezed orange juice. If I got tired of that, how about waffles and maple syrup and thick patty link sausages. Lunch was the thickest, richest cheeseburger, fish and chips, or a Cobb salad smothered in meat and cheese with a rich blue cheese dressing. Good food, nice people, thinking ahead of the curve and making things happen so that guests would be blown away as soon as they stepped on the property - not bad. It was actually fun.
I guess I did a good job - when my assignment was finished the General Manage of the Park Hyatt referred me to the Employment Manager at the Palmer House. A couple of weeks later, on July 3, the night of the fireworks, my mother was dogging fireworks watchers to drop me off for the first of many midnight shifts at the Palmer House Hilton. That's where my real career in the hotel biz began. At that point, I was just a trainee, but I was tossed in at the deep end at the Palmer House. Working with stars like BB King, Maze, and the Gap Band, I handled communications and guest services. Working at a hotel as an employee rather than a temp meant that I could count on at least two squares a day - prepared by a chef, free health insurance and dental care, and a free or discounted hotel room at any Hilton location. General Managers set aside the best possible rooms for hotel employees visiting their property - again, it's like inviting your best friend to spend time with you. They roll out the red carpet and make sure you get the best room in the place they can offer you. Another perk is discounted dry cleaning.
You haven't been tested until a star stays at your hotel after a big concert. Working the midnight shift you get exposed to call girls on the regular anyway - yes, they really exist, yes, they don't take no for an answer, and no, you can't always spot them right away. They work as hard at their job as you do at yours. Only thing is my job is legal, and my job is to make sure the Vice Squad doesn't raid the hotel on my shift and cause some embarrassing pictures to appear on the cover of the Tribune as your General Manager wakes up to his breakfast in bed.
The concert is over and people were after Maze. The lobby was filled with photographers and groupies in an unhealthy quantity. Guests stay under assumed names and a security guard takes them to their floor to make sure they aren't followed. One thing about the Palmer House is that they have an unlimited quantity of elevators so we can get people where they need to go. The group was great - gave me free cassettes and autographs - I didn't even ask for anything. It was heaven. If only I could have watched Frankie Beverly sing in the lobby while the kitchen poured tea down his throat. I used to sing in the choir, so I know that a good pot of hot tea after a night of singing is good for the pipes. Thinking ahead, that's my job!
As it happened, I was dealing with an airline pilot who needed to squeeze six hours of sleep into the four hours he had left and he was trying to see if he had enough time to get the required sleep he needed before he took off for his next stop. I only had a couple of rooms left, but I couldn't get confirmation that one was clean and ready to be sold. Here's a solution I'd have to brief someone on - I gave the pilot a suite to sleep in. He looked like he was dead on his feet, and after all, who wants to fly with a sleepy pilot? I know I don't! So I left the General Manager a note that I was giving the pilot a suite instead of one of those rooms the size of closets we usually give them. The pilot was ecstatic, but if Housekeeping didn't clean the suite before tomorrow's guests came, I'd be getting a shoe tossed at me!
So I made the Head Housekeeper promise to clean that suite first, and I left a message on a pile of never ending messages to my manager briefing him on my executive decision. He didn't come downstairs from his in hotel apartment until 9:00 am and I left at 7am on the dot for a quick breakfast and a quicker ride against traffic to my home and a waiting bed. It's all in a day's work, but it is nice to get that little letter of thanks from the group - along with a ticket to the concert and a commendation from United, who I learned later pays us quite handsomely to make sure their pilots and flight attendants get to sleep as soon as they arrive. My reward for thinking on my feet? I got the stars and the flight crews and handled their wake up calls myself. No United flights fell out of the sky while I was on duty, and that's how I started earning my living making other people happy first.
The new building on the northeast corner of Dearborn and Madison used to hold First Federal Savings and Loan, a bank I started to work at when I was in my last days of pledging Delta - yes, that was a pretty long time ago. Most of the people who worked there didn't look like me, but there were a few, and they were extremely nice and mentoring. It was a college job, but it paid well and gave me a steady income and enough money to go on my first trip to New York and see "Dreamgirls" on Broadway. If you haven't heard Jennifer Holliday sing " And I Am Telling You, I'm Not Going" live and in person - you actually haven't lived. No disrespect to Jennifer Hudson, but the movie doesn't touch Broadway. Since First Federal was sucked up by Citigroup, the location was closed and the building was torn down a few years ago.
A few feet east of that building was the first location I went to find something to fill my time while I was job hunting for a full time job - I went to Olsten Temporaries at 7 West Madison - and met with BJ.
At that time Olsten was the biggest temp service in Chicago. They had offices all over downtown and River North. BJ was the head of the place and he interviewed all of the applicants personally. When he interviewed me, he let me know that he was sending me to his best client. I didn't realize at the time that everyone was his best client, it would be a few years before I found out how temp services operated. He sent me to the Park Hyatt on Michigan Avenue to help the General Manager get organized.
The Park Hyatt was the place where all roads led at that point. Other than the Ritz Carlton, there weren't many more exclusive hotels. The Park Hyatt was the preferred hotel of people looking for complete luxury. I got introduced to the concept of a Concierge at the Park Hyatt.
Working at a hotel is very different from a regular office job. You might come in at 8:00 am and leave at 5:00 pm, but there is a group of people who got there long before you and another who are leaving long after you. Hotels never close and the drama, and the stream of information go on forever. You have to get a briefing before you start your day - you have to give a briefing before you leave. A briefing is a synopsis of what you took care of , what you need to start with and what the person taking over for you or working in your area needs to know about what you did in case there is a question while you're at home. This ensures that everyone is on the same page and guests, as well as other employees, know how to proceed and don't have to reinvent the wheel.
When I get to the Hyatt, the General Manager is a tall, slender, slightly older man with dark hair and graying temples. I don't remember his name, but I do remember what he told me about working at a luxury hotel. Working in the hotel industry means your job is to make them feel as welcome and as comfortable as your best friend when they come over to spend the night. You're there to anticipate their needs and carry them out before they even ask you. If you welcome them when they come, find out what kind of room they like before you check them in, ask them about their plans for their visit, and what they'd like to do while in Chicago, you can prepare a list of suggestions that will work for them before they've even unpacked. When is the last time you got that kind of service from your hotel? Every full service hotel should offer that kind of service, and once you've had it, you won't be able to go back to the other stuff.
I was only there to organize an exhaustive list of former guests and their preferences but I made the most of my time there. I got to learn how to serve people who are some of the most well known in the country. Before "The Devil Wears Prada", I was getting my own tutorial in dealing with unusual demands and how to get people to do things they never thought they would do. It was a job in the beginning, but before it was over - it was a calling.
It was fascinating to see people you had read about, watched on the big screen or on TV come into the hotel and get treated to a level of luxury you seldom see. We took their messages, we made their dinner arrangements, we ordered their limos, we delivered breakfast. There was literally no limit to what a day in my life might entail.
Working in a hotel (at that time) means you come in early through a side door. It's part of the fantasy world of a hotel - you just appear before the guests like a fairy godmother and solve their problems. Since I worked during the day I got to eat a monstrous breakfast that was made to my specifications every morning. Think omelettes with mushrooms, onions, and sausage on a bed of fresh hash browns and real fresh squeezed orange juice. If I got tired of that, how about waffles and maple syrup and thick patty link sausages. Lunch was the thickest, richest cheeseburger, fish and chips, or a Cobb salad smothered in meat and cheese with a rich blue cheese dressing. Good food, nice people, thinking ahead of the curve and making things happen so that guests would be blown away as soon as they stepped on the property - not bad. It was actually fun.
I guess I did a good job - when my assignment was finished the General Manage of the Park Hyatt referred me to the Employment Manager at the Palmer House. A couple of weeks later, on July 3, the night of the fireworks, my mother was dogging fireworks watchers to drop me off for the first of many midnight shifts at the Palmer House Hilton. That's where my real career in the hotel biz began. At that point, I was just a trainee, but I was tossed in at the deep end at the Palmer House. Working with stars like BB King, Maze, and the Gap Band, I handled communications and guest services. Working at a hotel as an employee rather than a temp meant that I could count on at least two squares a day - prepared by a chef, free health insurance and dental care, and a free or discounted hotel room at any Hilton location. General Managers set aside the best possible rooms for hotel employees visiting their property - again, it's like inviting your best friend to spend time with you. They roll out the red carpet and make sure you get the best room in the place they can offer you. Another perk is discounted dry cleaning.
You haven't been tested until a star stays at your hotel after a big concert. Working the midnight shift you get exposed to call girls on the regular anyway - yes, they really exist, yes, they don't take no for an answer, and no, you can't always spot them right away. They work as hard at their job as you do at yours. Only thing is my job is legal, and my job is to make sure the Vice Squad doesn't raid the hotel on my shift and cause some embarrassing pictures to appear on the cover of the Tribune as your General Manager wakes up to his breakfast in bed.
The concert is over and people were after Maze. The lobby was filled with photographers and groupies in an unhealthy quantity. Guests stay under assumed names and a security guard takes them to their floor to make sure they aren't followed. One thing about the Palmer House is that they have an unlimited quantity of elevators so we can get people where they need to go. The group was great - gave me free cassettes and autographs - I didn't even ask for anything. It was heaven. If only I could have watched Frankie Beverly sing in the lobby while the kitchen poured tea down his throat. I used to sing in the choir, so I know that a good pot of hot tea after a night of singing is good for the pipes. Thinking ahead, that's my job!
As it happened, I was dealing with an airline pilot who needed to squeeze six hours of sleep into the four hours he had left and he was trying to see if he had enough time to get the required sleep he needed before he took off for his next stop. I only had a couple of rooms left, but I couldn't get confirmation that one was clean and ready to be sold. Here's a solution I'd have to brief someone on - I gave the pilot a suite to sleep in. He looked like he was dead on his feet, and after all, who wants to fly with a sleepy pilot? I know I don't! So I left the General Manager a note that I was giving the pilot a suite instead of one of those rooms the size of closets we usually give them. The pilot was ecstatic, but if Housekeeping didn't clean the suite before tomorrow's guests came, I'd be getting a shoe tossed at me!
So I made the Head Housekeeper promise to clean that suite first, and I left a message on a pile of never ending messages to my manager briefing him on my executive decision. He didn't come downstairs from his in hotel apartment until 9:00 am and I left at 7am on the dot for a quick breakfast and a quicker ride against traffic to my home and a waiting bed. It's all in a day's work, but it is nice to get that little letter of thanks from the group - along with a ticket to the concert and a commendation from United, who I learned later pays us quite handsomely to make sure their pilots and flight attendants get to sleep as soon as they arrive. My reward for thinking on my feet? I got the stars and the flight crews and handled their wake up calls myself. No United flights fell out of the sky while I was on duty, and that's how I started earning my living making other people happy first.
Monday, April 26, 2010
Bring Back Wendy Ward's Charm School
I was cleaning out my closet and I had some books stored away - one was my Wendy Ward Charm book:
In addition to selling clothes, appliances and electronics, Montgomery Ward used to offer a charm school at their location in Evergreen Plaza (yes, this really was a while ago) and my cousin and I were dispatched there so that when we finally hit the real world, we wouldn't reduce the rest of our family to shaking their head and making them wonder where they went wrong....
But where is a service like that for today's pre-teens? Where are my nieces going to go for training the likes of which you'll only see in "Gigi"?
At the time I thought it was a little silly - I was already walking and talking so didn't I obviously know how to do it?? I thought that I was sitting in chairs just fine until I was corrected on the art of holding one's knees together, sitting easily rather than falling or collapsing, and the importance of shaking hands and looking people in the eye.
You take these things for granted at your own peril.
I spend hours every week working with young people who are trying to find a summer job, and about a quarter of the time is spent reminding them to smile - we aren't trying to kill them, just ask if they have reliable transportation and see if they can work with the public long enough to get their money and make them want to come back the next day.
Everybody needs to know how to shake hands confidently, walk without slumping, look people in the eye without getting self conscious and speak without mumbling. My work with teen-agers is as much about that as it is about anything else, but we can't do it alone.
The classes about how far apart your eyebrows should be and how to select a dress that won't make your grandparents blush - priceless!
Learning how to accept a date and a compliment with giggling uncontrollably and how to be honest but not brutally so (OK, I might have slept through that session actually)is more important that reading "How to Win Friends and Influence People" which is a little further up the scale, but takes for granted that you already mastered the fundamentals.
We need more fundamentals here - maybe that's why people are falling in the customer service department.
In addition to selling clothes, appliances and electronics, Montgomery Ward used to offer a charm school at their location in Evergreen Plaza (yes, this really was a while ago) and my cousin and I were dispatched there so that when we finally hit the real world, we wouldn't reduce the rest of our family to shaking their head and making them wonder where they went wrong....
But where is a service like that for today's pre-teens? Where are my nieces going to go for training the likes of which you'll only see in "Gigi"?
At the time I thought it was a little silly - I was already walking and talking so didn't I obviously know how to do it?? I thought that I was sitting in chairs just fine until I was corrected on the art of holding one's knees together, sitting easily rather than falling or collapsing, and the importance of shaking hands and looking people in the eye.
You take these things for granted at your own peril.
I spend hours every week working with young people who are trying to find a summer job, and about a quarter of the time is spent reminding them to smile - we aren't trying to kill them, just ask if they have reliable transportation and see if they can work with the public long enough to get their money and make them want to come back the next day.
Everybody needs to know how to shake hands confidently, walk without slumping, look people in the eye without getting self conscious and speak without mumbling. My work with teen-agers is as much about that as it is about anything else, but we can't do it alone.
The classes about how far apart your eyebrows should be and how to select a dress that won't make your grandparents blush - priceless!
Learning how to accept a date and a compliment with giggling uncontrollably and how to be honest but not brutally so (OK, I might have slept through that session actually)is more important that reading "How to Win Friends and Influence People" which is a little further up the scale, but takes for granted that you already mastered the fundamentals.
We need more fundamentals here - maybe that's why people are falling in the customer service department.
Saturday, April 24, 2010
The Street Vendor Strikes
I was coming into the Real Estate office this afternoon and I passed by the guy selling fruit in front of Walgreen’s. I had seen him earlier but I had to get in for floor time, so I couldn’t hang out. This afternoon I had a couple of minutes so I checked him out.
The grapes weren’t in the best shape and I had just finished off a box of grapes I got from Costco earlier in the month.
I still had some apples left, so I didn’t need those.
I came to the plums – nice looking, very juicy plums and I was about to get some…
“They’re 2 for 5….”
Foolishly I think he means two pounds for $5 and I was about to take the bait. As I asked to be sure what I was getting into (my parents didn’t raise an idiot) - he clarifies
“They’re 5 plums for $2”
Now, I’m not really as cheap as I sound, but why would I spend 40 cents for a plum when I can get a bushel of them at Costco – no, you know I don’t shop at that other store – ever!
I could get a better deal at Aldi – my aunt just introduced me to Aldi and I get a bag of fruit from there when I go to work, if I can’t make it to Meijer’s – my other hang out.
Brother, you just lost a customer. I have a bushel of apples at my place that I bought for $7. I got a box of green grapes for the same amount, and some oranges that I devoured in no time for slightly more.
Are we so hard up for food that we are paying these exorbitant prices???? Did he just think I would give him that because I wanted to support him? I do want to support him, but let’s keep it real – I can’t go broke doing it…..
The grapes weren’t in the best shape and I had just finished off a box of grapes I got from Costco earlier in the month.
I still had some apples left, so I didn’t need those.
I came to the plums – nice looking, very juicy plums and I was about to get some…
“They’re 2 for 5….”
Foolishly I think he means two pounds for $5 and I was about to take the bait. As I asked to be sure what I was getting into (my parents didn’t raise an idiot) - he clarifies
“They’re 5 plums for $2”
Now, I’m not really as cheap as I sound, but why would I spend 40 cents for a plum when I can get a bushel of them at Costco – no, you know I don’t shop at that other store – ever!
I could get a better deal at Aldi – my aunt just introduced me to Aldi and I get a bag of fruit from there when I go to work, if I can’t make it to Meijer’s – my other hang out.
Brother, you just lost a customer. I have a bushel of apples at my place that I bought for $7. I got a box of green grapes for the same amount, and some oranges that I devoured in no time for slightly more.
Are we so hard up for food that we are paying these exorbitant prices???? Did he just think I would give him that because I wanted to support him? I do want to support him, but let’s keep it real – I can’t go broke doing it…..
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
