I Am Sorry

There are perfunctory apologies – heartfelt, perhaps – but not robustly sincere, like, “I’m sorry I’m late: Traffic was awful, the weather was treacherous, or my kidney donor withdrew his gift and dialysis ran late.” All of which are understandable and forgivable excuses as long as the tardiness and subsequent apologies do not become a habit.

What I mean is, true apologies must result in changed behavior, not just remorse. I might have read that somewhere else, but I agree wholeheartedly with that assessment.

In the case of unusual, epic apologies, like the one I just received, the “ I’m sorries” were plentiful and quickly followed up by behavior that provided proof of true regret.

These mea culpas were in reference to a story I had written about an unfortunate experience with a bartender at a French/Vietnamese restaurant in Naples, Florida where his mystery recommendations for 2 tasty but pricey tequilas resulted in an extravagant bill of just over $360.00. That tab did include my $19.00 chardonnay and a begrudgingly given tip. But $360.00! Our entire meal plus more drinks didn’t amount to that. And although I learned my lesson and, in future, will ask about the price of an unfamiliar drink before ordering it, I think the fella should have been upfront about the cost of that premium pour before he actually poured it

Management agreed.

And other than one message where there was an attempt at “mansplaining” that perhaps I had been at a different restaurant – a natural defense to bad reviews, perhaps? – the remaining flood of messages I received from Le Colonial were stellar. All apologizing and insisting I give them my credit card number so that they could reimburse me.

“First, please accept my sincere apologies!” said one of the notes I received. “This was abhorrent behavior and will be dealt with harshly! We do not run our business like this, at all.”

I was gobsmacked by this response. And why wouldn’t I be?
We have all become so used to poor customer service and frustrated by industries who just don’t want to take responsibility for customer dissatisfaction. I don’t mean catering to the garden variety whiny customer. I mean any with a legitimate gripe. Like the airline that has delayed your flight for three days running but are not required to pay for your hotel room because that nasty storm was an act of God. Or, upon trying to return an item at a store you are confronted with a retail sales associate whose eyebrow is raised and tone, skeptical, when she inquires, “Do you have your receipt?” Which is almost akin to any emergency room visit where, although you might be bleeding from every orifice, the most pressing inquiry from the clerk is, “Do you have insurance?” I am sure all of those industries have their reasons for disappointing us-there are scammers everywhere they have to protect themselves against -I am just saying it sure is refreshing when a company has high standards and lives up to them. As was the case with Le Colonial.

“Thank you for your candid assessment and kind words,” said one of the owners. (We) “were horrified to hear about your bar experience at Le Colonial. So glad that this situation came to our attention. Thank you for that as well. You have done us a great service. “

These people must have gone to the great school of Bill Gates. Who, with an estimated worth of $153B, knows a thing or two about achievement.

“Your most unhappy customers are your greatest source of learning,” said Gates.

These businessmen, whether their apologies were expressed in English, French (Je Suis Désolé) or Vietnamese (tôi xin) surely went above and beyond the call of duty and
demonstrated what acclaimed business writer Ken Blanchard might say reflects his personal standard for professional success.

“Just having satisfied customers isn’t good enough anymore, says Blanchard.” If you really want a booming business, you have to create raving fans.”

I am not writing an advertisement for this company, but I am happy to say that I wholeheartedly approve this message.

Sincerely,
A Raving Fan