It's pretty simple: all of us will make mistakes in our business. That's everyone. That's you. That's me. What separates the men from the boys is how we handle those mistakes. A co-worker of mine at Sugarloaf sums up what a customer wants to hear from you when an unfortunate error occurs. Not an argument, or excuses, or finger-pointing...but instead, simply: "We made a mistake, we're sorry, and here's what we're doing to fix it." In theory it sounds nice and easy. In Las Vegas recently, at the AMOA show, I had a real-life experience that exemplifies the concept.
Early Saturday morning, departure day, at the luxurious Venetian hotel, I dropped my bags off at the hotel bell desk and told them when my flight was. They said they would have the bags pulled from storage and waiting for me at 4:30PM for my departure to the airport. That was a great plan... until I decided to get on an earlier flight. The flight was available. All I had to do was to retrieve my bags from the hotel and go to the airport.
I went to the bell desk at the Venetian, handed the neatly uniformed gentleman four dollars and claim tags for my three bags. The time was 2PM. Saturday is typically departure day at these shows so the lobby is full and the taxi line has well over 50 people standing in it. No problem though, my plane doesn't leave until 3:45PM. At 2:15PM I'm still waiting for my bags to be brought out.
Now at 2:30PM, thirty minutes later, I'm getting very anxious about my bags. Ask anyone I travel with; I am the guy at the airport one hour before departure, every time, and that appears to be in jeopardy for this trip. In addition, I had already changed my reservation with the airline. If I miss that flight, the next available flight back to Denver is sometime in early November.
In my discussions with one of the numerous bellmen running around, he's explained to me that my bags weren't supposed to be pulled from the basement until 4:30PM. In any event, he's been looking for them and isn't able to find them, but he's optimistic.
My good friend Rick Kirby, President of Betson Distributing, is sympathetically watching my saga unfold. He's graciously holding a place for me in the growing taxi line. With every situation there becomes a time when it's every man for himself. When I turned around he was gone. He was off to the airport to board the same flight to Denver. I was still waiting for my luggage. I was surprised he waited for me as long as he did.
At 2:45PM, one hour before my plane departs (and 45 minutes since I've been waiting for my luggage) I'm fuming. It was time for me to find someone in charge. I ask for a Supervisor at the bell desk and met Ms. Marti Kennedy, Assistant Guest Services Manager for the hotel. I told her I had a problem and I needed help. I spent 30 seconds explaining the situation.
She takes me into the upstairs bag area and immediately discovers the problem. My bags aren't where they are supposed to be. They're lost, and my plane departs Las Vegas in one hour. She immediately takes ownership of my problem. "Mr. Chilton, we have made a mistake, we're very sorry, but don't worry, we'll get you to the airport in time." She said it with a confidence that I wasn't going to argue with. We take off on a walk-jog through the casino, through hotel back area tunnels I didn't know existed, and minutes later we're in the basement baggage area.
She tells me to look around for my bags. Meanwhile there were 10 bellmen working in the area whose sole purpose in life, thanks to Marti, became to find my luggage so I may get to the airport. She's on the phone talking to who I don't know. Maybe Steve Wynn for all I know. Later I learn she was planning our next move.
I find my luggage! It's in the wrong area, but who cares. She directs Jim Melson, by now my personal bellman, to get me to the airport. I did some quick math in my head: it was now 3PM, I'm "wheels up" in 45 minutes. If we're headed back to that taxi line I'm in real trouble. Jim grabs my bags, and together with Marti (note she's still by my side), take off down some more behind-the-scenes tunnels. We exit through a set of double doors, and there is a private car waiting, for ME!
I immediately notice a problem. No driver. Jim throws my luggage in the trunk, grabs the keys, tells me to get in, and Jim drives me to the airport himself! As we drive off, I waive to my new best friend at the beautiful Venetian Hotel, Ms. Marti Kennedy, Assistant Guest Services Manager. She hadn't left my side since I had made her aware of my dilemma.
On the way to the airport, I ask Jim: do you drive many people to the airport? "Hardly ever, I'm a bellman, but we've got to get you on that plane." We get to the airport, he unloads my luggage and together we walk to the United Airlines ticket counter. I thanked Jim profusely and he headed back to the Venetian. I went from total disgust and never wanting to set foot in the Venetian the rest of my life, to now, where it's the only hotel I want to stay for future Las Vegas trips. It took about 20 minutes' time and someone who cared. What Marti Kennedy told me in essence, was, "We made a mistake, we're sorry, and here's what we're going to do about it." Then she delivered.
I turned around while at the ticket counter and standing directly behind
me in line is my friend Rick Kirby, who asks: "How did you get here
that fast?"