Guess What Happened Today?: Epic Fails, Part 1

When I screw something up at home, my kids call it a ‘fail’, as in ‘that’s a fail, Dad’. When it’s a major screw-up, that’s called an epic fail. Everybody has epic fails in life and at work. We had them in school, and we had them in relationships. I had an epic life, school, and relationship fail all in one sentence once, when unbeknownst to me, I asked Allison Redding to the school dance…in front of the entire class. Epic fail.

For 25 years, I’ve been a service guy. I’ve worked in businesses that sell service. Except for a couple of forays into the world of retail or food service, I’ve never actually sold a tangible thing like a car or fridge or a computer. I’ve sold service. I’ve delivered service, and I’ve managed people who sell and deliver service. I’m pretty sure it’s different than selling something you can put in a bag and send away with the customer. It’s unique.

I have been party to some pretty epic service failures, so I know what I’m talking about. One epic fail that immediately rockets to the top of my mind involves a crying customer picking up small change off the floor of a Scandanavian build-it-yourself furniture store. Absolutely not my proudest moment as a service guy. Click here to read more about that one.

I bring up the Ikea incident as a segue to some other epic fails in customer service. In these cases though, I’ve been on the receiving end of the epic failure in customer satisfaction. I think that while I am hyper-sensitive to mediocre and down-right disastrous customer service that I tend to give the service person the benefit of the doubt. Sometimes I think it must be corporate policy to be stupid and bitchy, so how can you hold that against anyone?

I once worked for Canadian Pacific Hotels and Resorts (now Fairmont) at the Chateau Laurier in Ottawa. I think I learned everything I know about service from that company. They taught me that the satisfaction of our guests was paramount, and that everything else was secondary. I was empowered to make my customer happy.

Compare that to another hotel I worked at in Calgary after leaving CP Hotels, where in training, I asked a question about my level of empowerment. To this day, I can’t believe the answer…”Really Sean, you’re not paid to think. You’re paid to smile. That’s what the guests want. We have managers to handle the problems.” Hmmm. Fantastic. No more thinking. Just smiling. Four months later I worked somewhere else. The ironic piece of this whole story is that the name of their staff training program is ‘Yes, I Can!’ Unless it involves thinking.

No blog about customer service would be complete without a shot at an airline. Before I go on, we all know that Air Canada is really easy to pick on, but I have to tell you that generally, I’m happy with the service I get from them. Not amazed. Not delighted. Happy. I know from experience that there are lots and lots of fantastic people who work there, but I will tell you, that once you become Elite, it’s clear that they love you a whole lot more, but it feels like a long hard road to become Elite, and along that road you encounter some big nasty potholes just waiting to swallow you up.

Air Canada has been won numerous awards for their product and service.

So allow me to take an easy swing at the nation’s largest airline. A couple of years ago, some dude wrote a song about crappy service on United Airlines, so let me take my turn. Some time ago, I got an upgrade to business class on a flight from Montreal to Toronto, so I was enjoying Air Canada’s cocktails in the Montreal lounge. All good. I boarded my flight, and had an uneventful 57 minutes between Montreal and Toronto. As I was about deplane, something felt very wrong. My briefcase was significantly lighter than it should have been, and when I opened it, I realized that I had left my laptop in the Montreal lounge. Shitty.

United Airlines did bad things to his guitar, and he got back at them...social media style

We all know that feeling we get when we’ve misplaced our wallet, or blackberry, or eldest daughter. Numb, then pins and needles, then nausea. Surprisingly, I pulled it together fairly quickly. Four or five ideas came to me as to how to deal with this situation, and I quickly decided that going to the Air Canada service desk was not the best course of action. So I presented myself at the Maple Leaf Lounge in Toronto, thinking that it would be an easy call from the Toronto lounge to the Montreal lounge and the problem would be solved. I was going back to Montreal the following week, so I would pick up the laptop upon my return. Yep...in my head things work out just that easily.

I walked up to the reception desk, and told the nice lady my story. She looked at me as though I had just dropped in from Saturn. No concern for me, or my lost laptop. No offer of assistance. She simply asked me if I was either Elite or Super Elite. I was neither. She informed me in her most demeaning Soup Nazi tone that the lounge was only for arriving Elites and Super Elites, and as such, I was not allowed to be there. I can still feel the way my shoulders drooped when she dispatched me to the service desk. I informed her that I had been in the lounge in Montreal and that all I was asking of her was to make a quick call to her colleague. She said, and I have no idea if it’s true or not, that her phone didn’t allow her to call the lounge in Montreal. How stupid is that. “Dear Air Canada…let your phones call each other.” Duh.

There must have been something in how I received that news that made her think I was either going to cry or attack, as she suddenly thawed, ever so slightly. She motioned for me to come closer to the desk so she could whisper something to me. “Go see the Air Canada concierges…they’ll help you.” Who the hell knew there were concierges? Apparently they have a secret office that’s about as easy to find as Hogwarts. “Go. Go now,” she said, and she gave me the directions and the secret knock.

An elevator trip, two escalator rides, and about 2 miles of walking later, I entered the room where Air Canada keeps all the service. The walls are lined with autographed headshots of Canadian celebs who clearly get the royal treatment from ole’ AC…Peter Mansbridge, Jan Arden, Lloyd Robertston, David Suzuki…a virtual who’s who of Canada… "Thanks for the awesome service, Love Peter”, “You make flying fun, All the Best, Relic from the Beachcombers”. Gag.

Relic, played by Robert Clothier: Canadian star power

It was a hive of activity. One of the black-suited concierges spotted me and raced to my assistance. I told her my story and that I had been directed to them by the lounge lady. Wait for it…the magic question… "Are you a Super Elite, Sir?" She knew I wasn’t. She could just tell. I’m sure she knows all the Supers, and I didn’t fit the mould. “Well Sir, this office is for Supers only, and there are actually people waiting who are entitled to our service.” At that point, I exploded. No more benefit of the doubt. No more smiling. I dropped my bags and began a rant that started with “Listen” and ended with ‘Help me now.” Rick Mercer would have been proud of me. (I’m not sure if his headshot is on the wall or not.)

This concierge clearly wanted me gone, so she grabbed the phone, dialed up the Montreal lounge, pushed the phone at me, and walked away, presumably to deal with a much more deserving Super. The story ends happily, as the Montreal lounge attendant found my computer, and connected be to a Montreal concierge. When I arrived back in Montreal the following week, a smiling, professional concierge was waiting at the door of the plane with my laptop in hand. That’s how it should work. That’s how it should always work.

I took the opportunity to write to Air Canada to tell them the story, both the bad parts and the good parts. To their credit they got back to me within the service window that their complaints website promised, and for my troubles, an apology and 10% off my next flight. But only if I booked it within the next two weeks. Sometimes they’re their own worst enemy.

I read a story in the Air Canada in-flight magazine last week about the concierges…apparently they’re coming out of the shadows. If you’re a Super (or what Air Canada calls a ‘Premium’ passenger), a concierge will meet you and take you by the hand to make sure you get to your gate on time. Please God, tell me that David Suzuki can find his gate all by himself.