2
26 FEBRUARY 2004 craftrends www.craftrends.com eople who don’t travel for a living think business travel is so glam- orous. You get to see the world, eat at the finest restaurants, and stay at Five Star hotels! Actually, we see more of the world’s airports and conven- tion centers, eat at fast food restaurants, and stay at hotels where folks are sometimes less-than-thrilled to see us. AIR SICKNESS Nope, travel ain’t all glamour, but it can be fun. We love Southwest Airlines because the people who work there real- ly are friendly folks. They make us feel important, plus they get us to where we’re going on time, which is a very good thing in our line of work. If you’ve traveled on Southwest Airlines, then you know that they don’t pre-assign seats. Depending on when you check-in, you are given a boarding pass for the “A” group, the “B” group, or the “C” group. This is not a class distinction; on Southwest all the seats are the same. The letter on your card shows when you are permitted to board the plane. Obviously, the “A” group is preferable because you get to board first. When we fly Southwest, Rich always grabs an open row and sits in the window seat. Georganne sits on the aisle, with the hope that the center seat will remain open, so we’ll have more room. On full flights, Georganne has been known to pick up the air sickness bag, hold it tightly in her lap, and stare at it until it looks like everyone is on board and in their seats. If someone eyes the empty seat next to her, she coughs a few times, stares a little harder, and the per- son usually keeps on moving down the aisle. The flight might have just one open seat left when they close the doors, but there’s a good chance that one open seat is the one between us. We’ve shared this trick for years in our seminars, and we know it works, because attendees have called to tell us so. One man even sent us a bottle of wine, along with a nice photo- graph of himself on the airplane holding “the bag.” NO GUARANTEES As you would imagine, checking in to hotels isn’t always glamorous, either. There’s not always someone in a spiffy uniform waiting outside to open the car door and whisk us directly to our rooms. And, sometimes, even confirmed and guaranteed room reservations are neither confirmed nor guaranteed. One memorable experience happened one winter night when we had to drive from one seminar to another, a trip that under normal conditions took about three hours. It was snowing that night, so our three hour drive was more like six, but we weren’t too worried. We’d arrive at the hotel around midnight, in plenty of time to set up the meeting room, and sleep for a few hours before our seminar in the morning. So we schlepped our bags through the snow, and into the lobby, where the desk clerk informed us that it was late, and because of the storm, he had given our guaranteed rooms to other people. They were completely sold out and there just wasn’t a thing he could do for us, except call other hotels to look for rooms. After 20 minutes of calling, he found another property – 57 miles away. We looked at him like he was nuts. It was now close to 1:00 a.m., and this guy wanted us to drive 57 miles in a snow storm, then turn around and drive back in time for our 7:00 a.m. seminar that was at his hotel? Rich offered every solu- tion he could think of until, exasperated, Georganne announced that we would be just fine sleeping right there in the lobby. There were two very nice couches, and we could each take one. Then she began to unpack her suitcase. Just as she was about to hang her undergarments on the lampshade, the desk clerk produced the night manager, who apologized, and miraculously, produced two rooms. This hotel’s policy, it seems, was to always keep a few rooms open just in case some dignitary happened to show up. The desk clerk knew it, but he apparently didn’t think we were important enough to suggest this to the manager, until we raised a ruckus. And just like Southwest’s air sickness bag, the old hanging-your-shorts-on-a- lampshade-in-the-lobby works, too. Just ask our good friend Bob Ferguson, owner of Ben Franklin Crafts, in Redmond, Washington. P The Glamorous Life BY RICH KIZER & GEORGANNE BENDER Rich Kizer & Georganne Bender are nationally recognized experts on customer service,customer retention strategies, “messing with the media,” and everything retail. Contact them by e-mail at [email protected]. © Kizer & Bender 2004 . All rights reserved. How faking air sickness and hanging your undergarments on lamps can help you travel more comfortably (more on page 28)

B R K & G B The Glamorous Life...The Glamorous Life B Y R ICH K IZER & G EORGANNE B ENDER Rich Kizer & Georganne Bender are nationally recognized experts on customer service,customer

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Page 1: B R K & G B The Glamorous Life...The Glamorous Life B Y R ICH K IZER & G EORGANNE B ENDER Rich Kizer & Georganne Bender are nationally recognized experts on customer service,customer

26 FEBRUARY 2004 craftrends www.craftrends.com

eople who don’t travel for a livingthink business travel is so glam-orous. You get to see the world, eatat the finest restaurants, and stay atFive Star hotels! Actually, we see

more of the world’s airports and conven-tion centers, eat at fast food restaurants,and stay at hotels where folks are sometimes less-than-thrilled to see us.

AIR SICKNESSNope, travel ain’t all glamour, but it canbe fun. We love Southwest Airlinesbecause the people who work there real-ly are friendly folks. They make us feelimportant, plus they get us to wherewe’re going on time, which is a very goodthing in our line of work.

If you’ve traveled on SouthwestAirlines, then you know that they don’tpre-assign seats. Depending on when youcheck-in, you are given a boarding passfor the “A” group, the “B” group, or the“C” group. This is not a class distinction;on Southwest all the seats are the same.The letter on your card shows when youare permitted to board the plane.Obviously, the “A” group is preferablebecause you get to board first. When wefly Southwest, Rich always grabs an openrow and sits in the window seat.Georganne sits on the aisle, with thehope that the center seat will remainopen, so we’ll have more room.

On full flights, Georganne has beenknown to pick up the air sickness bag,hold it tightly in her lap, and stare at it

until it looks like everyone is on boardand in their seats. If someone eyes theempty seat next to her, she coughs a fewtimes, stares a little harder, and the per-son usually keeps on moving down theaisle. The flight might have just one openseat left when they close the doors, butthere’s a good chance that one open seatis the one between us. We’ve shared thistrick for years in our seminars, and weknow it works, because attendees havecalled to tell us so. One man even sent usa bottle of wine, along with a nice photo-graph of himself on the airplane holding“the bag.”

NO GUARANTEESAs you would imagine, checking in tohotels isn’t always glamorous, either.There’s not always someone in a spiffyuniform waiting outside to open the cardoor and whisk us directly to our rooms.And, sometimes, even confirmed andguaranteed room reservations are neitherconfirmed nor guaranteed.

One memorable experience happenedone winter night when we had to drivefrom one seminar to another, a trip thatunder normal conditions took aboutthree hours. It was snowing that night,so our three hour drive was more like six,but we weren’t too worried. We’d arriveat the hotel around midnight, in plenty oftime to set up the meeting room, andsleep for a few hours before our seminarin the morning.

So we schlepped our bags through the

snow, and into the lobby, where the deskclerk informed us that it was late, andbecause of the storm, he had given ourguaranteed rooms to other people. Theywere completely sold out and there justwasn’t a thing he could do for us, exceptcall other hotels to look for rooms. After20 minutes of calling, he found anotherproperty – 57 miles away.

We looked at him like he was nuts. Itwas now close to 1:00 a.m., and this guywanted us to drive 57 miles in a snowstorm, then turn around and drive backin time for our 7:00 a.m. seminar thatwas at his hotel? Rich offered every solu-tion he could think of until, exasperated,Georganne announced that we would bejust fine sleeping right there in the lobby.There were two very nice couches, andwe could each take one. Then she beganto unpack her suitcase. Just as she wasabout to hang her undergarments on thelampshade, the desk clerk produced thenight manager, who apologized, andmiraculously, produced two rooms. Thishotel’s policy, it seems, was to alwayskeep a few rooms open just in case somedignitary happened to show up. Thedesk clerk knew it, but he apparentlydidn’t think we were important enoughto suggest this to the manager, until weraised a ruckus.

And just like Southwest’s air sicknessbag, the old hanging-your-shorts-on-a-lampshade-in-the-lobby works, too. Justask our good friend Bob Ferguson, ownerof Ben Franklin Crafts, in Redmond,Washington.

PThe Glamorous Life

BY RICH KIZER & GEORGANNE BENDER

Rich Kizer & Georganne Bender are nationally recognized experts on customer service,customer retention strategies, “messing with the media,” and everything retail. Contact them by e-mail at [email protected]. © Kizer & Bender 2004 . All rights reserved.

How faking air sickness and hanging your undergarments on lamps can helpyou travel more comfortably

(more on page 28)

Page 2: B R K & G B The Glamorous Life...The Glamorous Life B Y R ICH K IZER & G EORGANNE B ENDER Rich Kizer & Georganne Bender are nationally recognized experts on customer service,customer

28 FEBRUARY 2004 craftrends www.craftrends.com

As bad as our experience was, we onlyverbally expressed our displeasure. Wecould have been like the two guys fromSeattle who arrived at a Houston, Texas,hotel only to find their guaranteed roomreservations had been given to other trav-elers. They also weren’t real thrilled withthe snotty and unapologetic desk clerk.Unlike our situation, there was no manag-er there to save the day, and the two gen-tlemen had to spend the night at anotherless-than-desirable hotel.

Rather than threatening to sleep in thelobby, these guys created a PowerPointpresentation for the management of thehotel, entitled, “Yours is a Very Bad Hotel”.Then they unleashed it on the Internet tobe viewed by millions of potential customers.

According to one slide in their presen-tation the “Lifetime chances of dying in

a bathtub are 1 in 10,455; The chance ofthe of Earth being ejected from the solarsystem by the gravitational pull of a pass-ing star is 1 in 2,200,000; The chance ofwinning the UK Lottery is 1 in13,983,816; and the chance of either ofthem returning to that hotel is worse thanany of those.” You can view the presenta-tion in its entirety online at www.snopes.com/business/ info/badho-tel/frame.htm.

LUCKY IN LAS VEGASWhen you travel a lot, you are very awarethat sometimes luck just isn’t going to goyour way, but then there are glorious timeswhen it does. Like the time we arrived atthe Mirage Hotel & Casino in Las Vegas,only to find that our $75 a night, heck-of-a-deal rooms, were not available. Some

mistake had been made somewhere, andthe property was sold out.

This time the desk clerk didn’t call for amanager, she didn’t try to sell us moreexpensive rooms, and she didn’t offer tofind us another property. Instead she justsmiled, told us our low rate would be hon-ored for our entire stay, handed us ourroom keys, and told us to call her person-ally if we needed anything. Needed any-thing? She had given us two incrediblerooms, plus an unbelievably luxurious2,000-square-foot suite comfortably nestled in-between them.

So maybe travel isn’t so bad after all.We’ve been lucky because our good travelstories far outweigh the bad. Knock onwood, our luck will continue. Maybe we’reweird, but we actually enjoy business travel. Even the unglamorous parts. ◆

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