Customer (Dis)Service

Not long ago, my girlfriends and went to dinner at Don Pablo’s. It seemed like the perfect place for several reasons:

1. Even with a large party, it doesn’t usually take long to get seated there.
2. Even though the menu as a whole doesn’t compare to Casa del Rio, their cheese quesadillas and side salads are amazing.
3. It was close to the theater.
4. Since we were seeing a movie that wasn’t showing until midnight, margaritas, chips, and salsa seemed like a great way to pass the time.

Now, before I continue, let me preface: I spent six years in the slave restaurant industry. I have been a hostess, dishwasher, busser, and server. I have stories of all genres, ranging from comedy to horror. Not only have I been the employee, but I’ve also been the customer. A very kind customer. I smile at restaurant staff, say please and thank you, and tip generously.

My friend I were the first to arrive. We approached the unsmiling hostess. When we told her there would be eight of us, she frowned deeply and said, "Oh." I asked if it would take longer to seat us on the patio, and she hesitated, so we told her we’d take whatever opened first, the patio or the dining room. She told us it’d be a 45 minute wait, which was fine, despite the fact that it was a weeknight and the place didn’t seem busy. We glanced at the time (7:00 on the dot). We asked the hostess if we could wait at the high-top tables in the bar area, and when she said yes, that’s where we went to wait…

And wait…and wait.

We watched servers pass by without so much as a glance in our direction. We looked at the clock. Minutes ticked by. At 7:08, we decided to ask the bartender for drinks because more than five minutes of waiting to be greeted is unacceptable (most places have a two-minute rule of thumb). Unfortunately, after approaching the bar, we found it void of any tender, so we continued waiting. (Isn’t the server supposed to wait on the customer and not vice versa?)

We waited…and waited. At 7:15, just as I left to ask the hostess if we could have a server, I saw a server approach our table. We ordered our drinks and explained that we were waiting for other people to arrive before getting seated in the dining room.

A short while later, we were joined by the third person in our party, who sat at our table for ten minutes before our server stopped by to take her drink order. This is when we began to go from annoyed to slightly angry. I’ve eaten at a lot restaurants, but I had never experienced a lack of service quite like this before. To sum it up thus far, we had been treated unkindly by the hostess as well as neglected by our server. Not a good start, Don Pablo’s.

At about 7:45, we were joined by about five more people in our party, who were with us 15 minutes without getting their drink orders taken. Since it was 8:00 by this time (15 minutes past when we were supposed to have gotten seated), I decided to check on the status of our table. I approached the (still unsmiling) hostess, who asked how many were in my party as if I had just walked in the door. I smiled and reminded her that I was with the party of eight and we were waiting to be seated. She faltered, then glanced at the seating chart and told me she was just waiting for one other table to open up before seating us. Then, she asked, "It’s okay if your party is split, right?"

What?

Sometimes, on extremely busy nights, restaurants ask large parties if they mind being split. That is, half of the party sits at one table and the other half sits at another, hopefully nearby. In my experience, this is only done in extreme situations. Parties should be asked if they mind being split during their first exchange with the host/hostess, or very shortly after. This should not be done after an hour of waiting. It should be done without the assumption that the party is okay with it. So, no, hostess, not, "…right?"

"Actually, we would like to be seated together," I said. My patience was wearing thin. I could tell she had probably forgotten about us completely.

"Oh," she said. Clearly, that was one of her favorite expressions. She looked uncomfortable.

"Is it going to take longer to do that?" I asked. "We were given a 45 minute wait and it’s been an hour."

"No," she said. "It should just be a minute."

I made my way back to my group. Our joiners still hadn’t had their drink orders taken. Unhappy, we decided to ask to speak with a manager. He came over to our table, where we began to describe our experience thus far.

He was not a good listener. He interrupted us at least twice, saying he had seen us all sitting there and wondered if we had wanted a table. He said he had asked the hostess if we wanted seated and that she had told him we were waiting for the patio.

Huh?

We explained we had requested whatever opened first, and he ushered us into the dining room, which to our dismay, was 90% empty.

Yes, 90% empty.

Not once did I hear him apologize. Maybe he did, but if he did, I certainly didn’t hear it. We sat down and were greeted by our server, who was very kind. She was probably overcompensating as I’m sure the manager had told her we were unhappy, which is fine. We still appreciated her kindness after the way our night was going. What we didn’t appreciate was watching the rude hostess conversing with our server moments later, shooting unfriendly glances in our direction. She was, undoubtedly, telling our server what a pain we had been, or something along those lines.

We ordered more drinks. Not only did my margarita arrive sans lime, but it also was void of the extra limes that I had specifically requested. I let it slide. After all, no one is perfect and I’d be lying if I said I never forgot to bring anything like extra lemons or limes to a table in my serving days.

We ordered our food. Several of us ordered side salads to accompany our meals, which consist of four simple ingredients: lettuce, cheese, pico de gallo (pico), and tortilla strips. All of the salads arrived without pico de gallo. When a salad only consists of three things besides the lettuce, and you’re missing one, it kind of puts a damper on things. I wasn’t going to eat my salad until I had some pico. When our server finally stopped by to check on us, we pointed out that we were all missing pico on our salads. At the time, I was scraping my friend’s pico off her plate of fajitas (she had generously offered to donate it to me). Our server did not apologize, rather, she pointed the finger of blame on a coworker by explaining (with a forced tone of politeness, if I remember correctly) that she hadn’t made the salads, but if she had, she would have remembered the pico.

Pardon me for borrowing from the hostess, but:

Oh.

A rule I’ve learned over years of customer service is, don’t blame others. If the dishwasher left a chunk of food on a fork that found its way to the table you’re serving, you don’t say, "Oh, our dishwasher must have missed that." You do say, "I’m sorry. I’ll be right back with a clean set of silverware." If the kitchen screws up a food order, you don’t tell those customers, "I assure you, I placed the order correctly. The cook is the one who messed it up." You do say, "I apologize. I’ll bring you what you ordered in just a moment."

She brought pico to the table, but didn’t offer an apology. Disappointed, I stared into my glass of water with lemon, pondering why we had – wait. Was that…? I blinked and my eyes confirmed that yes, it was. I was staring face to face with the lemon in my water, which, to my dismay, still had the sticker on it. Hmmm. If the lemon still had the sticker on it, it probably meant that the lemon hadn’t been washed prior to making its way through the slicer and into my glass.

Gross.

At this point, we had finished our meals and were more than ready to leave. What a nightmare! I understand some customers are hard to please. I’m not one of them, nor were the other seven women in my party. Treating customers kindly and with respect as well as offering them good service makes for a pleasant dining experience.

It’s not complicated.

I wrote about our experience on the website, but my complaint was limited to 1,000 characters or less, which I find disappointing. Limiting the description of an experience isn’t going to help a business better themselves. By the time I had described our experience to the point where we were seated, I was out of characters. I planned to call the general manager the next day, but between everything else I had going on, I just didn’t have time. And when I did get time, it had been several days and I feel that a call like that needs to happen as close to the incident as possible. I did receive a $25 gift certificate via mail (a result of my comments on their website, no doubt). But, after such a negative an experience, will I really go back? It’s not likely.

Twenty-five dollar gift certificate to Don Pablo’s, anyone?