Yet another example of stellar customer service (after Delta dropped the ball)

I seem to be a magnet for “teaching moments” when it comes to customer service lately. This time, a terrific server at a tiny little wine bar trumped a multi-million dollar airline when it came to doing things right.

As someone who practically lives on airplanes, I spend an inordinate amount of time in Delta Skyclubs—they’ve become my regional offices, once the laptop and cell phone are fired up. One of the perks to being a member is that you can “guest” someone in with you, which until now, I hadn’t had the opportunity to do.

And still haven’t, thanks to the staff at the Skyclub in Terminal E, Atlanta Hartsfield (the one nearest the central concourse area, not the second one further back).

The scenario:
As I was checking in at the Skyclub desk, a lovely woman with a subtle foreign accent was inquiring about coming into the club, having a lengthy delay (several hours) before her international flight. Hearing her turned away as a non-member, I jumped in, offering to “guest” her in with me. The desk agent wrinkled his nose and announced she wouldn’t be admitted since we didn’t walk in together. Huh.

The woman was lovely about the snub, thanked me graciously for the invite, then slipped off into the terminal to wait out the next several hours there.

Next, another woman I presume was club management pulled me aside, informing me that because the other traveler was a former Delta employee (news to me), she couldn’t be “guested” in…and that because we didn’t walk through the door together, she couldn’t be “guested” in…and that because the whole idea behind “guesting” is revenue production, there was (and I’m quoting here) “no way [Delta] would be making any money off her.”

Okay. That last part got me because, you see, there is no financial exchange once you enter a Skyclub. The assumption that every guest who walks through the door will, without hesitation, plop down the rather hefty annual membership fee is just this side of absurd.

“So,” I asked, “you’re saying that if I guested my mother in, who lives most of the year in Nebraska—a state in which Delta doesn’t offer a single Skyclub and barely provides flights to—she would be rejected as someone unlikely to produce revenue?”

“No, you can bring your mother in any time, assuming she didn’t used to work for the airline.”

“But how do you know the woman I invited in wouldn’t decide to join the Skyclub down the road? How do you know she might not become a revenue-paying member?” I continue.

“We just know” was the abrupt response.

Sure, I get that revenue production is the goal, but c’mon. Is it really worth shooting down a paying member while they’re offering to do something nice for a fellow traveler?

Frustrated and feeling a distinct lack of southern hospitality in the room, I opted to depart the club (read: leave the free munchies and wine behind), heading to a little wine bar in the public concourse instead.

Which is where the teaching moment about customer service took place.

Lemons into (someone else’s) lemonade
In Concourse E, there’s a little round counter right in the center called “The Bar on E.” Kerry, the woman who welcomed me, was a ray of sunshine, happy to walk me through the various wines offered, along with sips of whatever I’d like to taste. She was so immediately hospitable that I commented about what a radical difference this was from the conversation just experienced in the Skyclub a few yards away.

”I’ll bet it was this one over here, wasn’t it?” she asked, gesturing to the doorway I’d just exited. “We hear they’re a little snooty sometimes.”

I admitted that yes, it was, and that I was still astonished by the whole thing.

“Well then, this one’s on the house, since we want you to be happy on your way home.”

(Insert: The second astonished expression on my face that day)

After repeatedly telling her that wasn’t necessary, it hit me—this was exactly the type of thing I did in my own store when customers walked in after being frustrated by a local competitor.

Teaching moment
Yeah, yeah, yeah…here I go again. Another “take notes” lesson.

Every business has policies, and not all make sense 100% of the time. Put yourself in the customer’s shoes. If what they want isn’t going to hurt your business, well then…let them have what they want. Truth be told, that little bit of kindness on your part just might turn into unexpected revenue production later on, in addition to the good will you’re building with your regular customer.

If, however, you feel yourself inching toward that “This is the way we’ve always done it” line while the customer begins inching toward the door, hit the brakes. If they step through that threshold, there’s a very good chance the next doorway they walk through will be a competitor’s—not just today, but tomorrow too.

Worse yet, odds are incredibly good they’ll tell their friends you dropped the ball, followed by how your competition made everything right. Guess whose business that helps?

Bingo.

Kudos to Kerry and her sidekick, Leslee, for being so savvy about customer service. Given their close proximity to the Skyclub and what sounds like a pattern of not-so-warm-and-fuzzy experiences there, my guess is they’re doing just fine.

If you’re ever flying through Atlanta and have a little time on your hands, pop over to The Bar on E for a sip and a bite to eat (the food looked really tasty). Be sure to tell ‘em hi for me.