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…..
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Sears Has Everything
I haven't always seen eye to eye with Sears, but I will admit one thing-if you go there, you're going to find something you can take home and they will stand behind their product.
The last VCR I bought was from Sears, and it was years ago. It was before the age of DVD recorders and Blu Ray players. I found one that was perfect for me, but as it happened, it wasn't perfect for my TV.
I have produced cable television shows, so you can't tell me that I don't know how to hook up a VCR. I can do that in my sleep and get a splitter to spread the feed. You all don't know nothing about that...
I called the store about the problem I was having, and the manager got so flustered from my declaration that I was returning the VCR, he immediately dispatched a tech person to install my VCR properly. The young man he sent was even more perplexed than I was. He couldn't understand the VCR, my TV, the wiring, the cable box - it was a mess.
But you know what, that young man prevailed and he was successful in getting the box together. After spending what amounted to half his shift at my house, picking up a pizza on the end of the block from the Connie's pizza man, he had to ask me - what did you say to make my store manager send me over here in a cab - he didn't even give me bus fare....
I'll reveal my secret only here - I reminded him that I could be his best friend or his worst enemy, because I've been shopping at Sears for a long time. I remember when my grandparents would take me to the Sears on 79th Street and get me a toy and a box of popcorn while they shopped to keep me occupied.
When you've got a customer that loyal, you'd be a fool to let it go!
The last VCR I bought was from Sears, and it was years ago. It was before the age of DVD recorders and Blu Ray players. I found one that was perfect for me, but as it happened, it wasn't perfect for my TV.
I have produced cable television shows, so you can't tell me that I don't know how to hook up a VCR. I can do that in my sleep and get a splitter to spread the feed. You all don't know nothing about that...
I called the store about the problem I was having, and the manager got so flustered from my declaration that I was returning the VCR, he immediately dispatched a tech person to install my VCR properly. The young man he sent was even more perplexed than I was. He couldn't understand the VCR, my TV, the wiring, the cable box - it was a mess.
But you know what, that young man prevailed and he was successful in getting the box together. After spending what amounted to half his shift at my house, picking up a pizza on the end of the block from the Connie's pizza man, he had to ask me - what did you say to make my store manager send me over here in a cab - he didn't even give me bus fare....
I'll reveal my secret only here - I reminded him that I could be his best friend or his worst enemy, because I've been shopping at Sears for a long time. I remember when my grandparents would take me to the Sears on 79th Street and get me a toy and a box of popcorn while they shopped to keep me occupied.
When you've got a customer that loyal, you'd be a fool to let it go!
Friday, April 16, 2010
The Happiest Place on Earth
I've never been to Disney World or even Disneyland, so I have to nominate another location - one that unfortunately doesn't exist anymore, but lives in my heart as a great place to visit for all eternity - The Playboy Club
Forget the image of orgies and wild cavorting - there were plenty of kids at the Playboy Club - they even had a day camp that I attended with Joan Rivers' daughter Melissa, and Chastity when she was still a little girl. It was a place that everyone could enjoy. I loved going there.
You could swim in two pools, go horseback riding, play tennis, play golf, go tobogganing, ski, and ride bikes all day. If you wanted to go into town, the people were friendly and they even had a movie theater. I've never found a breakfast danish to rival the ones there, and I've searched everywhere. You could eat what you wanted and they made it the way you wanted it. At the Playboy Club the word of the day was enjoyment - and ours was non-stop.
You can't find hotel employees as friendly and outgoing as you did in Lake Geneva, always bending over backward to make sure you were having a good time. Once I found myself at the sidewalk cafe at the club eating one of the greatest cheeseburgers in the world. Yes, I was being served by a Playboy Bunny, but that's neither here nor there. I couldn't choose between getting Wisconsin cheddar and Swiss, so she gave me both. I had never had mushrooms on a cheeseburger before, so she had the Chef grill some for me. I even got a refill on my strawberry milkshake - and I charged the whole thing to my room - you didn't even have to have money... Well somebody did, but I was a kid at the time - ah, youth!
So anyway, what do you do when a Playboy Bunny is feeding you and the restaurant is just about empty except for you - you quiz her of course....
My first question - how do you get that outfit on, and isn't it uncomfortable??? She didn't share all of her secrets with me, but she did confide that you get used to the suit after a couple of hours even though it's so tight you can't wear ANYTHING under it - take that Health Department! She also told me that they give you pads for the shoes so that they don't kill your feet and they replace them regularly. It'd be years before I could wear a pair of high heels, but I thought about her a lot.
You got to meet celebrities up close - the place was pretty small in retrospect. It wasn't really like a scene from Playboy After Dark, but you got to see that stars are pretty much like everyone else - they just sleep late and work at night.
Even kids need a break, and although I missed out on Mickey Mouse, I had my own favorite spot on the planet.
Forget the image of orgies and wild cavorting - there were plenty of kids at the Playboy Club - they even had a day camp that I attended with Joan Rivers' daughter Melissa, and Chastity when she was still a little girl. It was a place that everyone could enjoy. I loved going there.
You could swim in two pools, go horseback riding, play tennis, play golf, go tobogganing, ski, and ride bikes all day. If you wanted to go into town, the people were friendly and they even had a movie theater. I've never found a breakfast danish to rival the ones there, and I've searched everywhere. You could eat what you wanted and they made it the way you wanted it. At the Playboy Club the word of the day was enjoyment - and ours was non-stop.
You can't find hotel employees as friendly and outgoing as you did in Lake Geneva, always bending over backward to make sure you were having a good time. Once I found myself at the sidewalk cafe at the club eating one of the greatest cheeseburgers in the world. Yes, I was being served by a Playboy Bunny, but that's neither here nor there. I couldn't choose between getting Wisconsin cheddar and Swiss, so she gave me both. I had never had mushrooms on a cheeseburger before, so she had the Chef grill some for me. I even got a refill on my strawberry milkshake - and I charged the whole thing to my room - you didn't even have to have money... Well somebody did, but I was a kid at the time - ah, youth!
So anyway, what do you do when a Playboy Bunny is feeding you and the restaurant is just about empty except for you - you quiz her of course....
My first question - how do you get that outfit on, and isn't it uncomfortable??? She didn't share all of her secrets with me, but she did confide that you get used to the suit after a couple of hours even though it's so tight you can't wear ANYTHING under it - take that Health Department! She also told me that they give you pads for the shoes so that they don't kill your feet and they replace them regularly. It'd be years before I could wear a pair of high heels, but I thought about her a lot.
You got to meet celebrities up close - the place was pretty small in retrospect. It wasn't really like a scene from Playboy After Dark, but you got to see that stars are pretty much like everyone else - they just sleep late and work at night.
Even kids need a break, and although I missed out on Mickey Mouse, I had my own favorite spot on the planet.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Half The Fun Of Having Feet......
It started early for me.
It was Easter season and I was watching Ray Rayner and Red Goose shoes were advertising a give away of a golden egg stuffed with prizes for every shoe sale.
I couldn't wait to go out and find a pair of Red Goose shoes and get my golden egg with the prizes inside.
I found a pair of beautiful shoes - black patent leather with a strap across the foot -oh, I was styling! I loved to go shopping all the time, and this was no different.
The salesman made sure I had ample room in my toes and I was happy as a clam - until....
Shortly after my father paid for the shoes and the box was placed in the yellow bag with the white drawstring, I asked for my golden egg. It was a natural question - especially since the lady ringing up the sale had forgotten to drop an egg in the box - I was little, but I wasn't blind!
"Oh, we don't have any more - we're all out.." she says.
If I had known then what I know now - I would have canceled the sale and asked to go elsewhere - but I was a kid. I was naive, and I couldn't at that point imagine that a person would try and cheat a kid. Who wants these crappy shoes if I can't get the prize?
If half the fun of having feet is Red Goose Shoes, how come you don't make sure you have enough gifts for the gift with purchase give away - that's not customer service!
Red Goose shoes doesn't exist anymore - any guesses why?
It was Easter season and I was watching Ray Rayner and Red Goose shoes were advertising a give away of a golden egg stuffed with prizes for every shoe sale.
I couldn't wait to go out and find a pair of Red Goose shoes and get my golden egg with the prizes inside.
I found a pair of beautiful shoes - black patent leather with a strap across the foot -oh, I was styling! I loved to go shopping all the time, and this was no different.
The salesman made sure I had ample room in my toes and I was happy as a clam - until....
Shortly after my father paid for the shoes and the box was placed in the yellow bag with the white drawstring, I asked for my golden egg. It was a natural question - especially since the lady ringing up the sale had forgotten to drop an egg in the box - I was little, but I wasn't blind!
"Oh, we don't have any more - we're all out.." she says.
If I had known then what I know now - I would have canceled the sale and asked to go elsewhere - but I was a kid. I was naive, and I couldn't at that point imagine that a person would try and cheat a kid. Who wants these crappy shoes if I can't get the prize?
If half the fun of having feet is Red Goose Shoes, how come you don't make sure you have enough gifts for the gift with purchase give away - that's not customer service!
Red Goose shoes doesn't exist anymore - any guesses why?
Friday, April 9, 2010
Give Me Saks Fifth Avenue
My dream after Freshman year at Loyola was to work in retail - I needed a clothes discount and I could not wait to get a job.
You didn't see a lot of people who looked like me working on Michigan Avenue, much less in Water Tower Place, the mecca of shopping malls. People came to Water Tower Place just to walk around. We came there after school to walk around, but by the time we finished Freshman year, we were there to see our friends. Seems like Loyola had invaded Water Tower, and I wanted to join the group.
I started at Lord and Taylor - Lori gave me the exact pep talk I needed:
After you fill out the application - don't leave - just stand there until they hire you....
Never dreamed it would work - but guess what, it worked like a charm!
After a few months at Lord and Taylor, I stretched my wings and went to Saks - never thought they would hire me - but I already had retail experience, and I was welcomed with open arms.
I was assigned the dress department - and this was no regular dress department - it wasn't couture, but it certainly wasn't run of the mill.
At Lord and Taylor the emphasis was on keeping the crowd moving. People were in and out of there. They bought clothes without a second thought. I didn't take into account that there was a reason people didn't take prodding at Lord and Taylor - the clothes were the same as what I was selling at Saks.
At Saks the clothes were more expensive, more exclusive. Women took their time, they didn't always buy, some had no intention of buying something. I had two sales partners in my department - one was Mary, an older lady who sold clothes by the boatload. The other was Lorel, and she was a college student like me. She was attending Columbia college - her major was fashion design. I thought I knew about clothes, textures, pricing, a proper look - I was way off the mark!
Lorel taught me about the designers. She brought me French Vogue and made me stop reading American Vogue "This is garbage, they're six months behind the rest of the world - you want to see what we will have here, read this when it comes out." I got the guy at Bob's Newsstand to put a French Vogue away for me every month and picked it up before I went to class. It was an education - silk, velvet, cotton (real cotton), how to tell a blend - what a good color was - what it meant to make a color pop on your face - it was a new world. Lorel made me unpack the new stuff with her every Tuesday afternoon. I didn't usually work on Tuesday, but we convinced my department manager that I needed the advanced notice to target what I was going to sell. If a dress fit, was comfortable and didn't make me look crazy, I bought it. Like I said - lot to learn.
I learned about the designers and sub-designers - my department was strictly ready to wear, an d we sold to working women who were deciding between buying a new dress or two and eating that week. We wanted them to chose the dress.
Mary was a star sales person - she never missed a sale and she taught me how to sell clothes. She got me out of my comfort zone. Mary confronted her clients - she asked them what they were looking for, got it, got them into a dressing room and bombarded them with clothes.Mary made every client try on at least seven dresses or they couldn't leave. I was afraid to approach someone in the dressing room other than to ask if there was something I needed to take back. Mary taught me to take clothes to them while they were in their slips - if they're already undressed, what will keep them from trying on your suggestions? It's called anticipating needs - and making a client yours for life. It's called making that paper - and making a real commission.
I thought I was going to be arrested for disturbing the clients, but actually, they bought more clothes from me when I went back out and brought in suggestions. As I learned, a woman saw one dress she liked, had a style she wanted to stay true to, but didn't think about the overall look of her wardrobe and how this piece would fit into the overall picture. What was her color palette? What did she wear normally? What was everyday and what was work only? What was her best color? Ask the questions, get the answers, pull the dresses and bring them to her - make her expand her vision of what she was wearing and make the sale.
In those days a sale was slower. We didn't get cash registers until later. At first, we wrote up the sale by hand and took the money or the credit card to the main register. The girls at the register in the back cheered you on - you were making a sale, making money for the store. You weren't just there to pick up that weekly pay check. While I was taking my sale in to be tallied, I asked my clients to fill out a client card so that I could call them in for sales, specials, to update their wardrobe, and be their special person.
By the end of the summer I had 100 clients. Mary taught me to wean my client book - maintain the people who responded, dump the people who didn't call back or shopped infrequently. The goal was to make Saks their store of choice. There were other options on the horizon and we had to remain number one. Mary and Lorel taught me to let go and learn. I wasn't comfortable at first doing what they asked me to do and I was very hesitant. They kept pushing, and bet me that I'd have more money at the end of the summer than I had ever seen - and you know what, they were actually right. For the first time I had money left over. I was going from class to Saks and jumping on the 147 for an express ride home and a couple of hours in the library. Yes, that crazy discipline started early.
I learned in invaluable lesson - I learned how to sell - myself and other things!
You didn't see a lot of people who looked like me working on Michigan Avenue, much less in Water Tower Place, the mecca of shopping malls. People came to Water Tower Place just to walk around. We came there after school to walk around, but by the time we finished Freshman year, we were there to see our friends. Seems like Loyola had invaded Water Tower, and I wanted to join the group.
I started at Lord and Taylor - Lori gave me the exact pep talk I needed:
After you fill out the application - don't leave - just stand there until they hire you....
Never dreamed it would work - but guess what, it worked like a charm!
After a few months at Lord and Taylor, I stretched my wings and went to Saks - never thought they would hire me - but I already had retail experience, and I was welcomed with open arms.
I was assigned the dress department - and this was no regular dress department - it wasn't couture, but it certainly wasn't run of the mill.
At Lord and Taylor the emphasis was on keeping the crowd moving. People were in and out of there. They bought clothes without a second thought. I didn't take into account that there was a reason people didn't take prodding at Lord and Taylor - the clothes were the same as what I was selling at Saks.
At Saks the clothes were more expensive, more exclusive. Women took their time, they didn't always buy, some had no intention of buying something. I had two sales partners in my department - one was Mary, an older lady who sold clothes by the boatload. The other was Lorel, and she was a college student like me. She was attending Columbia college - her major was fashion design. I thought I knew about clothes, textures, pricing, a proper look - I was way off the mark!
Lorel taught me about the designers. She brought me French Vogue and made me stop reading American Vogue "This is garbage, they're six months behind the rest of the world - you want to see what we will have here, read this when it comes out." I got the guy at Bob's Newsstand to put a French Vogue away for me every month and picked it up before I went to class. It was an education - silk, velvet, cotton (real cotton), how to tell a blend - what a good color was - what it meant to make a color pop on your face - it was a new world. Lorel made me unpack the new stuff with her every Tuesday afternoon. I didn't usually work on Tuesday, but we convinced my department manager that I needed the advanced notice to target what I was going to sell. If a dress fit, was comfortable and didn't make me look crazy, I bought it. Like I said - lot to learn.
I learned about the designers and sub-designers - my department was strictly ready to wear, an d we sold to working women who were deciding between buying a new dress or two and eating that week. We wanted them to chose the dress.
Mary was a star sales person - she never missed a sale and she taught me how to sell clothes. She got me out of my comfort zone. Mary confronted her clients - she asked them what they were looking for, got it, got them into a dressing room and bombarded them with clothes.Mary made every client try on at least seven dresses or they couldn't leave. I was afraid to approach someone in the dressing room other than to ask if there was something I needed to take back. Mary taught me to take clothes to them while they were in their slips - if they're already undressed, what will keep them from trying on your suggestions? It's called anticipating needs - and making a client yours for life. It's called making that paper - and making a real commission.
I thought I was going to be arrested for disturbing the clients, but actually, they bought more clothes from me when I went back out and brought in suggestions. As I learned, a woman saw one dress she liked, had a style she wanted to stay true to, but didn't think about the overall look of her wardrobe and how this piece would fit into the overall picture. What was her color palette? What did she wear normally? What was everyday and what was work only? What was her best color? Ask the questions, get the answers, pull the dresses and bring them to her - make her expand her vision of what she was wearing and make the sale.
In those days a sale was slower. We didn't get cash registers until later. At first, we wrote up the sale by hand and took the money or the credit card to the main register. The girls at the register in the back cheered you on - you were making a sale, making money for the store. You weren't just there to pick up that weekly pay check. While I was taking my sale in to be tallied, I asked my clients to fill out a client card so that I could call them in for sales, specials, to update their wardrobe, and be their special person.
By the end of the summer I had 100 clients. Mary taught me to wean my client book - maintain the people who responded, dump the people who didn't call back or shopped infrequently. The goal was to make Saks their store of choice. There were other options on the horizon and we had to remain number one. Mary and Lorel taught me to let go and learn. I wasn't comfortable at first doing what they asked me to do and I was very hesitant. They kept pushing, and bet me that I'd have more money at the end of the summer than I had ever seen - and you know what, they were actually right. For the first time I had money left over. I was going from class to Saks and jumping on the 147 for an express ride home and a couple of hours in the library. Yes, that crazy discipline started early.
I learned in invaluable lesson - I learned how to sell - myself and other things!
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
It All Started With A Little Bitty Hamburger
After what seemed like an eternity filling out applications at every McDonald’s in town, I found myself at White Castle.
It was easy to get to – I could take the South Chicago bus or the 79th Street bus to get there and I could get there from Kenwood on the Stony Island bus.
I wore a tan dress with heels and my hair was in an updo – I was quite overdressed, but at that point, what’s the difference – McDonald’s hadn’t called me back. I interviewed with Robert, the Shift Manager and he asked about my school schedule. When I told him what I was taking, he seemed very pleased. There were already a lot of high schoolers working there, so I wouldn’t be bored.
Fast forward to Fourth of July weekend and my mother’s friends are over for barbeque. I was filling a bowl with pork and beans when the phone rang. It was White Castle – they had put me on the schedule – could I come in to work that Monday for training?
COULD I?????? I’M THERE WITH BELLS ON!!!!
I ran out side and shouted to all within ear shot “I got a job! I got a job!!!”
My mother was also overjoyed – “Hallelujah, praise God!”
After several congratulations and pats on the back from friends and family alike came the inevitable question – where are you working????
The White Castle on 79th Street…
Whew, it’s a little rough over there, are you sure you want that?
Well, it means you won’t have to keep doubling my allowance every week…
When did you say you start????
I get to White Castle and put on the obligatory hair net and blue polyester uniform. I was a little hesitant about leaving my clothes in what was a miniature locker the size of a gym bag, but there wasn’t time to debate the issue. I was finally working – and guess what – White Castle pays more than McDonald’s.
OK McDonald’s – that’s strike two!
Perks for working at White Castle – free food at any location you visit. You are loaned out as much as you work at your own location, so you get to know everyone and the managers travel from store to store so they get to know you also. You get paid once a week and they pay you in cash because you can cash your check while there. They also accommodate school schedules and high school parties. You have your own money and of course being at the White Castle that is the center of everything – you get to see the whole world come through. That was especially true for me because I worked the midnight shift on Friday and Saturday night.
Between the Ponderosa, which became the High Chaparral, which became Bonanza’s letting out at 2 in the morning and other area night spots, working the grill early to get on the cash register before the real partiers came through, it was hard work, but we managed to have fun. I was well mentored by Robert the Shift Manager and Rhonda became my vision of what a real manager should be – compassionate and ready to get down in the trenches with you. We’d do anything Rhonda asked us because she wasn’t afraid to flip a burger when it got tight on the front line. She and Robert were never afraid to get their hands dirty, and after a night of burger flipping and customer appeasement, you needed back up. I was good at managing difficult customers, so I always got a register at the end of the night. I knew how to keep the coffee hot and the burgers flipped and wrapped to perfection.
White Castle is where my work ethic was honed – you can’t afford to half step in the fast food world. One of the employees told me early on: You see these bums sitting around this place waiting for a hand out? The kids back here dodging work and barely making it? They won’t be here long because the energy they are using to dodge this grill takes twice as much energy as it does to get the job done right the first time – then you can move on to your next position rather than spend all night trying to avoid some work –
The day goes faster when you do your job right – how right she was.
I used to hate coming home smelling like an onion sandwich, but I kept coming back to that regular paycheck, regular food, and all that Senior Year had to offer. If only I could find about twenty teen-agers just like that now – I’ve got a job for them….
It was easy to get to – I could take the South Chicago bus or the 79th Street bus to get there and I could get there from Kenwood on the Stony Island bus.
I wore a tan dress with heels and my hair was in an updo – I was quite overdressed, but at that point, what’s the difference – McDonald’s hadn’t called me back. I interviewed with Robert, the Shift Manager and he asked about my school schedule. When I told him what I was taking, he seemed very pleased. There were already a lot of high schoolers working there, so I wouldn’t be bored.
Fast forward to Fourth of July weekend and my mother’s friends are over for barbeque. I was filling a bowl with pork and beans when the phone rang. It was White Castle – they had put me on the schedule – could I come in to work that Monday for training?
COULD I?????? I’M THERE WITH BELLS ON!!!!
I ran out side and shouted to all within ear shot “I got a job! I got a job!!!”
My mother was also overjoyed – “Hallelujah, praise God!”
After several congratulations and pats on the back from friends and family alike came the inevitable question – where are you working????
The White Castle on 79th Street…
Whew, it’s a little rough over there, are you sure you want that?
Well, it means you won’t have to keep doubling my allowance every week…
When did you say you start????
I get to White Castle and put on the obligatory hair net and blue polyester uniform. I was a little hesitant about leaving my clothes in what was a miniature locker the size of a gym bag, but there wasn’t time to debate the issue. I was finally working – and guess what – White Castle pays more than McDonald’s.
OK McDonald’s – that’s strike two!
Perks for working at White Castle – free food at any location you visit. You are loaned out as much as you work at your own location, so you get to know everyone and the managers travel from store to store so they get to know you also. You get paid once a week and they pay you in cash because you can cash your check while there. They also accommodate school schedules and high school parties. You have your own money and of course being at the White Castle that is the center of everything – you get to see the whole world come through. That was especially true for me because I worked the midnight shift on Friday and Saturday night.
Between the Ponderosa, which became the High Chaparral, which became Bonanza’s letting out at 2 in the morning and other area night spots, working the grill early to get on the cash register before the real partiers came through, it was hard work, but we managed to have fun. I was well mentored by Robert the Shift Manager and Rhonda became my vision of what a real manager should be – compassionate and ready to get down in the trenches with you. We’d do anything Rhonda asked us because she wasn’t afraid to flip a burger when it got tight on the front line. She and Robert were never afraid to get their hands dirty, and after a night of burger flipping and customer appeasement, you needed back up. I was good at managing difficult customers, so I always got a register at the end of the night. I knew how to keep the coffee hot and the burgers flipped and wrapped to perfection.
White Castle is where my work ethic was honed – you can’t afford to half step in the fast food world. One of the employees told me early on: You see these bums sitting around this place waiting for a hand out? The kids back here dodging work and barely making it? They won’t be here long because the energy they are using to dodge this grill takes twice as much energy as it does to get the job done right the first time – then you can move on to your next position rather than spend all night trying to avoid some work –
The day goes faster when you do your job right – how right she was.
I used to hate coming home smelling like an onion sandwich, but I kept coming back to that regular paycheck, regular food, and all that Senior Year had to offer. If only I could find about twenty teen-agers just like that now – I’ve got a job for them….
Saturday, March 27, 2010
How Macy's Lost My Business
Shortly after I moved into my place, my mother offered me a new couch as a house warming present.
The problem is that the living room is small, so it was a little difficult finding a couch that would fit in the space without overpowering it. The couch there now is a hold over from my apartment days.
One day Macy's decided to have a couch sale...
I was already skeptical, I was boycotting Macy's because of the shaby way they had dismissed Marshall Field's retail store after over a century of service to the Chicago area.
Macy's CEO, Terry Lnudgren, had determined that national advertising would cost less overall if the Macy's name could be taken national. He decided to absorb all of the other local retail stallwarts Macy's had gobbled up over the years. The problem was that Macy's, with all due respect, couldn't hold a candle to the retail supremacy of Marshall Field.
The Marshall Field motto had been "Give the lady what she wants...". You could get just about anything you wanted at Marshall Field at one time. I remember going there to shop with my Aunt Elaine when I was very little and being overwhelmed by the place and all the things you could get - clothes, rugs, furniture, furnishings, electronics, and my treat for being such a good little girl as I was dragged from department to department - a piece of german chocolate cake from the Marshall Field's bakery. And you thought Sears had everything!
Over the years Fields had been taken over and each successive buyer stripped away a little of the glory that had been Marshall Field's until they reached their nadir by refusing to take gift returns after a certain date, no matter what the reason. Macy's took quite a hit for their decision - It didn't take long for Chicago shoppers to say "Well, OK, I'll tell you what.... if I stop buying gifts here altogether, I won't have to worry that my friends and relatives are being the run around to make a return."
But if you thought the decision to stop making Frango mints in Chicago was controversial - you ain't seen nothing yet.
The decision to eliminate the Marshall Field's name, the brand, the quality, some of the best vendors, and replace them with what can charitably be called dreadful (yeah, I said it) - created a united front the 9th District in New Orleans could have benefited from during Hurricane Katrina. Chicagoans stopped shopping at Macy's en masse, and the boycott goes on!
After such an arrogant and anti-customer stance, I didn't have much faith that Macy's would be able to turn me into a raving fan - sadly I was not disappointed.
The day of the delivery, my mother and Paul were waiting patiently for the delivery man to drop off the new couch and dispose of the old one. Sure enough, mid - way through the day they were told that the delivery men were lost. The next day we were told that the couch was not even in the Chicago area to begin with.
After a terse letter to Terry Lundgren, I was informed that the saleperson who sold my mother the couch had ordered it from a warehouse in another state and the deliverymen were looking for my address in another city. The manager of the furniture department in Chicago couldn't understand why I wouldn't reschedule the delivery when the couch actually arrived from the East Coast.
I don't care how many glitzy commercials and mega personalities they bring in to hawk their merchandise, a retailer that can't read a map accurately is still in the dark!
Boycott - 1 Macy's - 0
The problem is that the living room is small, so it was a little difficult finding a couch that would fit in the space without overpowering it. The couch there now is a hold over from my apartment days.
One day Macy's decided to have a couch sale...
I was already skeptical, I was boycotting Macy's because of the shaby way they had dismissed Marshall Field's retail store after over a century of service to the Chicago area.
Macy's CEO, Terry Lnudgren, had determined that national advertising would cost less overall if the Macy's name could be taken national. He decided to absorb all of the other local retail stallwarts Macy's had gobbled up over the years. The problem was that Macy's, with all due respect, couldn't hold a candle to the retail supremacy of Marshall Field.
The Marshall Field motto had been "Give the lady what she wants...". You could get just about anything you wanted at Marshall Field at one time. I remember going there to shop with my Aunt Elaine when I was very little and being overwhelmed by the place and all the things you could get - clothes, rugs, furniture, furnishings, electronics, and my treat for being such a good little girl as I was dragged from department to department - a piece of german chocolate cake from the Marshall Field's bakery. And you thought Sears had everything!
Over the years Fields had been taken over and each successive buyer stripped away a little of the glory that had been Marshall Field's until they reached their nadir by refusing to take gift returns after a certain date, no matter what the reason. Macy's took quite a hit for their decision - It didn't take long for Chicago shoppers to say "Well, OK, I'll tell you what.... if I stop buying gifts here altogether, I won't have to worry that my friends and relatives are being the run around to make a return."
But if you thought the decision to stop making Frango mints in Chicago was controversial - you ain't seen nothing yet.
The decision to eliminate the Marshall Field's name, the brand, the quality, some of the best vendors, and replace them with what can charitably be called dreadful (yeah, I said it) - created a united front the 9th District in New Orleans could have benefited from during Hurricane Katrina. Chicagoans stopped shopping at Macy's en masse, and the boycott goes on!
After such an arrogant and anti-customer stance, I didn't have much faith that Macy's would be able to turn me into a raving fan - sadly I was not disappointed.
The day of the delivery, my mother and Paul were waiting patiently for the delivery man to drop off the new couch and dispose of the old one. Sure enough, mid - way through the day they were told that the delivery men were lost. The next day we were told that the couch was not even in the Chicago area to begin with.
After a terse letter to Terry Lundgren, I was informed that the saleperson who sold my mother the couch had ordered it from a warehouse in another state and the deliverymen were looking for my address in another city. The manager of the furniture department in Chicago couldn't understand why I wouldn't reschedule the delivery when the couch actually arrived from the East Coast.
I don't care how many glitzy commercials and mega personalities they bring in to hawk their merchandise, a retailer that can't read a map accurately is still in the dark!
Boycott - 1 Macy's - 0
Sunday, March 21, 2010
McDonald's Gets Checked Over An Overcharge
I'm from Chicago, so I literally grew up on McDonald's.
There's a McDonald's down the street from me on Western that I go to every now and again. Here's my problem:
A few months ago, the cashier double charged me. She's a teen-ager, as I was when I worked the fast food circuit. I saw the error on my card statement, called the McDonald's and spoke to the Manager. While he had to acknowledge that they charged me twice for the one dinner I bought, he didn't know how to resolve the problem. He said he'd talk to the owner about it. OK, so I give him a week to look into it and return the money to my card. A week later - nothing! So, I have to go up to the store and get it straightened out - already, I'm spending too much time on a $5 overcharge.
So I get there, the manager barely remembers the incident (I get a lot of complaints in a week, he says), and needless to say, he hasn't taken care of the situation. So, I have him call the owner, who is at another location and based on the response, isn't there on a daily basis anyway. The woman I get on the phone is less than enthusiastic about returning the money. She says she doesn't see how that could have happened, she's never heard of it before. I copied the card statement just in case it got raggedy, so I leave a copy for her and let her know that I'm going to call the corporate office about it also. Her response is extremely blase. She thinks the bank made the mistake.
Chase is pretty clear that they don't add extra charges to card bills - they wouldn't be in business long if they did. If you saw extra charges that you didn't make, would you keep that card? Thought not! Anyway, the Service Manager at Chase three ways us to McDonald's Corporate office.
Corporate gets it immediately and returns the money the next day. They're going to talk to the franchise owner, they say. She tells us the franchise owner made a mistake that might cause them to get fined, which is what happens if a store charges more than the posted rate for an item in Chicago. Interesting!
The franchise owner sends me a letter to apologize a few weeks later. She had no idea of the implications, and asks me to come back. The problem was solved, but I must admit, it took me a while to get back to that location.
There's a McDonald's down the street from me on Western that I go to every now and again. Here's my problem:
A few months ago, the cashier double charged me. She's a teen-ager, as I was when I worked the fast food circuit. I saw the error on my card statement, called the McDonald's and spoke to the Manager. While he had to acknowledge that they charged me twice for the one dinner I bought, he didn't know how to resolve the problem. He said he'd talk to the owner about it. OK, so I give him a week to look into it and return the money to my card. A week later - nothing! So, I have to go up to the store and get it straightened out - already, I'm spending too much time on a $5 overcharge.
So I get there, the manager barely remembers the incident (I get a lot of complaints in a week, he says), and needless to say, he hasn't taken care of the situation. So, I have him call the owner, who is at another location and based on the response, isn't there on a daily basis anyway. The woman I get on the phone is less than enthusiastic about returning the money. She says she doesn't see how that could have happened, she's never heard of it before. I copied the card statement just in case it got raggedy, so I leave a copy for her and let her know that I'm going to call the corporate office about it also. Her response is extremely blase. She thinks the bank made the mistake.
Chase is pretty clear that they don't add extra charges to card bills - they wouldn't be in business long if they did. If you saw extra charges that you didn't make, would you keep that card? Thought not! Anyway, the Service Manager at Chase three ways us to McDonald's Corporate office.
Corporate gets it immediately and returns the money the next day. They're going to talk to the franchise owner, they say. She tells us the franchise owner made a mistake that might cause them to get fined, which is what happens if a store charges more than the posted rate for an item in Chicago. Interesting!
The franchise owner sends me a letter to apologize a few weeks later. She had no idea of the implications, and asks me to come back. The problem was solved, but I must admit, it took me a while to get back to that location.
Saturday, March 20, 2010
Isn't There Anyone Out There Who Knows What Customer Service Is All About????
When we first moved to South Shore shortly after my fifth birthday, I became enamored with the Queen of Hearts favorite phrase from "Alice in Wonderland" - Off With Their Heads! I used to say it all the time, so as a child I became quite well known for it. I went trick or treating for the first time in my new neighborhood and while people may not have known my name, they did know "Off with their heads!" While my mother may have been mortified that SO many people knew me for saying that, she comforted herself with the knowledge that I make friends easily! I think my father got trick or treating duty after that....
Anyway, I've been giving good customer service since I was a fourteen year old camp counselor ensuring eight year olds got their fill of swimming, hiking, crafts, and drama before returning them to their grateful parents. I know how to make the impossible happen, and I know how to leave the competition shaking with rage. I got my manager to play "Outstanding" by "The Gap Band" while I was getting my performance review, and I have a host of customers who will ONLY deal with me. I've overheard friends, family and my clientele threaten contentious customer service reps by saying that they were going to dispatch me to deal with them - and like the Wolf from "Pulp Fiction", I revel in the challenge. Yes, basically "Off With Their Heads!" is still part of my personal mission statement - its the fate of those who fall short.
I've also been given great customer service - and I collect good customer service providers and use them over and over again - United Airlines, you got added to the platinum list when you got me back home on time even though the flight was overbooked! If you know how to make me and my clientele happy, I know how to give credit where credit is due. I'm a Concierge and Real Estate salesperson, so I keep a great team of service providers at the ready. They respond to my voice and make the seas part! Need a great table in a fabu Chicago restaurant, condo with the right lakefront view, or a replica of the wedding ring you carelessly, eh, "lost"? I'm your girl - accept no substitutes! On the weekend, it's nothing for me to pick up front row concert tickets at 3 in the morning, give a cross country messenger a package at 4, and get a jeweler out of bed to sell a Rolex at 5 before my day even starts.
I'm well aware of the challenges a life in customer service presents. Customers want what they paid for, and they want it the first time, not after calling a lawyer and a press conference. Some companies, sadly, are still getting the news! When you look around and see companies fold their pup tents and disappear in the high grass, it's usually because their customer service was pitiful, and that's a charitable assessment.
This blog is about good and bad customer service experiences. I will applaud those who got it right the first time, and chasten those who are dodging their responsibilities. For those who doubt a change has got to come - keep this in mind - Angry customers make "Closed For Business" signs sprout like dandelions!
Anyway, I've been giving good customer service since I was a fourteen year old camp counselor ensuring eight year olds got their fill of swimming, hiking, crafts, and drama before returning them to their grateful parents. I know how to make the impossible happen, and I know how to leave the competition shaking with rage. I got my manager to play "Outstanding" by "The Gap Band" while I was getting my performance review, and I have a host of customers who will ONLY deal with me. I've overheard friends, family and my clientele threaten contentious customer service reps by saying that they were going to dispatch me to deal with them - and like the Wolf from "Pulp Fiction", I revel in the challenge. Yes, basically "Off With Their Heads!" is still part of my personal mission statement - its the fate of those who fall short.
I've also been given great customer service - and I collect good customer service providers and use them over and over again - United Airlines, you got added to the platinum list when you got me back home on time even though the flight was overbooked! If you know how to make me and my clientele happy, I know how to give credit where credit is due. I'm a Concierge and Real Estate salesperson, so I keep a great team of service providers at the ready. They respond to my voice and make the seas part! Need a great table in a fabu Chicago restaurant, condo with the right lakefront view, or a replica of the wedding ring you carelessly, eh, "lost"? I'm your girl - accept no substitutes! On the weekend, it's nothing for me to pick up front row concert tickets at 3 in the morning, give a cross country messenger a package at 4, and get a jeweler out of bed to sell a Rolex at 5 before my day even starts.
I'm well aware of the challenges a life in customer service presents. Customers want what they paid for, and they want it the first time, not after calling a lawyer and a press conference. Some companies, sadly, are still getting the news! When you look around and see companies fold their pup tents and disappear in the high grass, it's usually because their customer service was pitiful, and that's a charitable assessment.
This blog is about good and bad customer service experiences. I will applaud those who got it right the first time, and chasten those who are dodging their responsibilities. For those who doubt a change has got to come - keep this in mind - Angry customers make "Closed For Business" signs sprout like dandelions!
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