laneys.info Beware of Yankees, drunks, and loose women.

Update: The Green Iguana responded to my feedback. 

You may have heard the phrase, "If our nation has become a service economy, why is the service so bad?"  I have a few suggestions following my lunch Sunday at The Green Iguana on Anderson.  For those who don't want the details, suffice it to say that my first visit was also my last, and the restaurant's management is getting some feedback through their web site.  Green Iguana gets an A for the food and a gigantic F for the experience.

We met Randy, Twila, Britt, and RC for lunch on Sunday.  We had the six adults and all four kids.  I dropped Julie and Ethan off at the door and then parked.  I'm not sure how long the others had been waiting, but we still had a reasonable wait before our table was ready.  Party of ten, yeah, I can see that.  No big deal.  We took our seats, Debbie took our drink orders, brought our drinks, took our meal orders, and then disappeared.

No, I don't mean in the usual way, I mean in the way that some servers have where by the time you see them again, you've started having a hard time remembering what they look like.  "Is that him?  No, I think he had blond hair.  Is that him?  No, I think his shirt was green.  Is that him?  No, I think his hair was long."  Then, when he returns, you find that the server you were looking for in the green shirt with the long, blond hair actually was wearing a red shirt and has his jet-black hair cut in a way that would make a Marine proud.

All this time, we have four kids, the oldest of which is seven, who are all starting to eye the wall decorations with that age-old look that says, "I wonder if that would taste good smothered in ketchup...?"  Finally, Debbie reappeared long enough for one end of the table to get some crackers.  I didn't even know she had been around until Seth noticed Trace and AC munching on crackers and asked for some.  By then, she was long gone again.

And so here is the first observation I have on customer service, specifically restaurant service.  Who decided that when a family with kids — especially pre- and primary-schoolers — arrives at your establishment, you have to put every patron within a 20-foot radius through the torture of making those kids wait on their macaroni-and-cheese until their parents' entrées are cooked?  Make everyone a little better off and at least ask if the kids' food should come out first.  It takes no more preparation time in the kitchen and it takes maybe an additional two minutes of your wait staff's time to make the extra trip.  (Believe me, they could do with making the extra trip anyway.  If the number of times they check on me while I'm eating is inversely proportional to the number of tables they are serving or the number of other things they have to do besides look after the customers, then almost every restaurant I've been in over the last six months is woefully understaffed.)  I don't know about other people's kids, but mine and RC's tend to eat slowly, unless they've been sitting, staring longingly at other people eating for a good 20 minutes — maybe that's the reason.  Bringing their food out quickly will not only help keep them from driving people insane, but it might prevent them from devouring a wayward table steward.  It's also nice for me, as one of the ringmasters for the visiting circus, to be able to help them get started so that I can have that preliminary task finished before my own food arrives.

We finally succeeded in getting some crackers for Seth, who devoured them with such haste that it reminded me of those cartoons where they eat an ear of corn as if it were the platen of a typewriter.  I'm not sure how long we had been waiting, but eventually I turned to Randy and Twila and asked, "you guys have been here before... is this length of wait normal?" Now, for those of you who may not know me so well, I'm a pretty easy-going type.  When I'm with friends, talking and hanging out, time loses all meaning for me.  So just the fact that I had noticed the length of the wait was not a good sign at all.

Eventually, the food arrived.  For those who are inclined to go, I will say that the cheeseburger I ordered came out impeccably done.  I ordered it cooked Medium, it arrived just so.  I ordered no onion, and there was no evidence that it had been added and then removed, as with some other places.  I understand why their food regularly gets good reviews.  However, I must also say, it came out with lettuce, tomato, and pickle and that's it.  No mustard on the table, no souffle cup of mayonaise on my plate, just the Heinz ketchup on the table.  I decided not to wait on Debbie to return from the jungles of the Amazon so I could ask for some mustard, but to eat instead.  I finally was able to ask for some mustard about the time I got halfway through my burger.  Again, not good.  I tend to be a slow eater, though I'm not as slow now as I used to be.

In the meantime, Julie has been out of beverage for quite some time.  I had scored a refill, but apparently she hadn't.  Also, I should emphasize the singularity of my refill, which isn't a good thing for someone who drinks as much as I do.  I think Julie finally got her refill after she asked the third time.

So when the check arrived, we immediately noticed the large-party, automatic gratuity of 17%.  Seventeen percent?  For this?  I don't think so.  I asked for the manager.  Lee arrived soon after, listened to my brief description of his establishment's poor service and my request to have the gratuity reduced to 10%, and then proceeded to argue with me about how the automatic gratuity is company policy and not negotiable when dealing with large parties.  I have no problem with a restaurant automatically adding the gratuity onto my check if they think I've somehow inconvenienced them by bringing friends with me to dine.  I've even had restaurants add the gratuity in for parties of six or more, which I will soon almost fulfill with no more than the members of my own family.  But to actually tell me that the gratuity is carved in stone just because of the number of people at my table is a fundamental misunderstanding of what a gratuity is and why it is given (or denied).

So let's clear the air and address the second of my observations: a gratuity is the way in which I express to you, the service provider, my assessment of the value of the service you provided.  It is not, by any stretch of the imagination, to be taken for granted, or I will take it with me when I leave.  It is not some immutable law of the universe that I must provide you with any payment above that which covers the cost of the goods and services I actually received.  I actually heard a woman on the radio a few months ago, who was saying that a 15% gratuity is the bare minimum and should be given regardless of the quality of the service.  If the service was good, then it goes up to 20%, and if it was excellent it goes up from there.  Codswallop.  It is not my obligation as a consumer to make up for the restaurant owner's lack of conscience in paying poor wages, and it certainly is not a part of my social obligation to ignore poor service in the name generosity or noblesse oblige.  If large parties are that great of a burden on your poor, overworked wait staff, then I suggest that you refuse to seat them.

Point three: never, ever, argue with a customer.  Even if you're right, you're wrong.  Especially don't tell me that you "don't want to argue" while you're arguing, Lee.  Not while I'm sitting at a table with forks.  And lemons.  A little more thought and creativity on your part will pay off in amazing ways with your disgruntled customers.  Remember: the customer who brings a problem to you is secretly saying, "I liked this place enough that I want you to fix the problem so I can feel good about coming back."  The ones who are just head-over-tea-kettle done are the ones who stalk off quietly and never come back - and they tell all their friends that they aren't going back - and you never heard a word of it.  Offer a free desert.  Offer a gift certificate, saying, "thank you for letting me know about this.  Please take this certificate and come back in a week or so after we've had a chance to fix things."  Do you really have to change anything?  Not if you think you're already doing it right.  Maybe they just had bad circumstances.  Who knows?  Does it really cost that much to give them some validation, make them feel like you're hearing them, and bring them back one more time?  Hopefully, they'll come back and spend waaaaay more than the certificate you just handed over.

Point four: think twice (at least) before quoting "company policy" to your customer.  I work for a company that's in the top 20 on the Fortune 500 list.  Trust me, I know a thing or two about company policy.  Hell, I've helped create a few in my time with the company.  Don't start in with me on that tune.  Consumer policy trumps company policy every time.  Consumer policy really has only one missive:  The customer is always right.  (Hint: that means you're always wrong.)

Oh, and the 10% gratuity I was going to leave?  It was down to 8% by the time Lee got done "not arguing" with me.  I have to admit, I was a little divided on that one.  Was it right for me to punish Debbie financially because Lee was a total idiot?  Probably not.  But when Debbie came back to the table with a ten-foot-wide attitude because she just found out she wasn't getting the 17% she had been taking for granted, she earned the smackdown.

Bottom line: Customer service means not shafting your customers.