I Got Splotchy Service

Out, out, damn'd spot. An unhappy experience in a Viennese hotel spurs a reflection on the branding logic of coming clean. So I’ve just checked in to this very fancy hotel in Vienna, and I’m waking up from an afternoon nap. I happen to glance up at the headboard of the four-poster bed and there they are: four old and dry, um, DNA samples.

hotel customer service

Out, out, damn’d spot. An unhappy experience in a Viennese hotel spurs a reflection on the branding logic of coming clean.

So I’ve just checked in to this very fancy hotel in Vienna, and I’m waking up from an afternoon nap. I happen to glance up at the headboard of the four-poster bed and there they are: four old and dry, um, DNA samples.

I leap off the bed and head down to the front desk. (I can’t bring myself to try and explain this to the Viennese on the phone.) I ask the guy if we could talk privately. He takes me to a corridor alongside the front desk. English isn’t his first language, and my eyebrow raising and euphemisms fail to get the point across. I blurt it out. Red faces all around. Promises of an immediate housekeeper visit. I go to the fitness center for a workout.

I get back to my room. It’s still there. Call the desk. Apologies again. Housekeeper appears at my door. Doesn’t speak English. I take this sweet old gal in her absurd French maid’s getup to the headboard and point. She blanches and runs out for a rag. Much wiping and smearing while I try to break through the language barrier to make sure she knows they aren’t my splotches. She beats a hasty retreat. In her haste and our mutual awkwardness, however, the job is incomplete. I ended up grabbing a wet towel and removing the rest of the, um, deposit, myself. Eww. Eww. Eww.

While you all try to erase those images from your mind, let’s talk about the marketing implications of this event. Once I had recovered from my embarrassment, I became indignant. I wanted someone to recognize the uncomfortable nature of this episode. I called the front desk fellow, who murmured and purred as only a European desk clerk can do. I hung up and stared staring at the now-scrubbed headboard, hoping they’d send up a bottle of champagne. After a while I thought a glass of house red would suffice. Maybe a chocolate? An hour later I was left hoping for a note from the manager on checkout. None of which happened.

I sent an email via the hotel’s corporate website. I received a form reply saying they had received my message. More than a week later, I received a personal email from the hotel HQ, saying they had received my email and were investigating. Investigating? What’s to investigate? There were splotches. It was excruciatingly embarrassing. Do something!

I turned to Twitter. Maybe this brand had a Twitter representative? Sure enough they did. I followed them and starting posting tweets about this incident and sending messages asking for help. The Canadian PR people who work for the brand were the first to contact me. I had to explain the situation again, but they promised to jump on it. Next I heard from the brand’s Global Social Media Director, who promised an answer as soon as she could – but told she had a full day of meetings the next day, so it would be the end of the week before I’d hear back.

Next I received a survey from a third-party research firm who wanted to know how I enjoyed my stay at the hotel. I sent them the letter I wrote to the hotel, explaining the incident. Finally, a note came from the Hotel Manager. He of course apologized, assured me that department heads had been briefed, and that steps had been taken to ensure this wouldn’t happen again. He credited my guest account with some points, and hoped that I’d give them another chance next time I was in town.

That satisfied me. That’s what I wanted in the first place: recognition that it was a bad thing, knowledge that it was being discussed, and a token to make me feel appreciated. What mystifies me is why it took two weeks and my rattling the cage of several layers of bureaucracy through at least three communication channels for this to happen.
 

The Lesson

In this new world of instantaneous communication, the customer-brand interface is more important than any of us can imagine. People want personal relationships with the brands they patronize, and usually that personal relationship will be tested at the customer service level. So how does customer service need to change to be an effective branding tool in the new marketplace?

1.    First off, it needs to be fast. Instantaneous, in fact. Look at your customer service and complaint-handling processes. If a simple apology note is taking more than two weeks to get to a disgruntled customer, it’s time for an overhaul.

2.    If customer service issues are relegated to the lowest-ranking employees in the company, who only have the power to tell customers that things are being investigated, rethink who handles these incredibly important exchanges. These are invaluable opportunities to learn how to improve.

3.    If the front line workers in your organization don’t know how to deal with customer service issues when and where they first happen, train them.

4.    If you have multiple contact points for our customers to provide feedback (and you should), make sure they are integrated. An email sent to the corporate website should be on the radar of the social media team, and the research company sending surveys, and anyone else who may have cause to contact customers.

Social media and the Internet have trained consumers to expect immediate resolutions to problems, big or small. This is where your brand will have the most impact on customer relationships, one customer at a time. Make sure you have the resources and processes dialed to meet these new expectations, and that you’re not simply coasting along doing things the way you always have.