It’s the holidays and Aspen, if you haven’t noticed, is about to bust at the seams. I too, you will soon notice, am about to bust at the seams.
In all honesty, there is little I enjoy about the holidays since moving to Aspen. Okay, I do enjoy the lights and the snow and the glow of the giant Christmas tree outside the Sardy House that I can see from my bedroom window, but the holidays mean something else entirely to those who live and work in Aspen, or any town that derives the bulk of its revenue from tourism.
In most places, the holidays are a time to relax with family, take a few days off work, and focus on the things that are truly important. In a tourist town such as Aspen, the holiday season is a time to put in extra hours at the office, maximize profit, sell-sell-sell.
When I lived on the east coast and worked in the banking industry everything came to a virtual halt from Christmas Eve to the New Year. I had ample time to enjoy the holiday, unwind, and get together with family and friends.
(I know some of you are thinking, “Why doesn’t he just go back to the East coast?” Please, I’m not going to leave this beautiful place just because the holidays suck, but that doesn’t change the fact that they suck. So, please, allow me to bitch for a minute.)
Since I moved to Aspen, there hasn’t been a Christmas day that I have not worked. My friends back home cannot comprehend working on Christmas. “That’s just the way it is,” I say, acting as if I’ve accepted the fact. “It’s the busiest time of year.”
The truth is, however, I have not accepted the fact that I have to work over the holidays. To make it worse, I work in the hospitality industry, which means I am dealing with guests the better part of each day. You would think that vacationing in Aspen over Christmas would put you in a wonderful mood, but for some unknown reason it tends to do the opposite.
My job as of late is to put out fires, defuse unnecessarily tense situations, calm the rude and the overbearing. For sake of illustration, I’ll provide an excerpt from a conversation that happened yesterday between myself and a guest, we’ll call him Mr. Happy.
Mr. Happy: What do you mean you can’t get me dinner reservation on Christmas?
Me: I’m sorry sir, but I mean exactly that. We were unable to get you a dinner reservation on Christmas. Every restaurant in town is booked solid.
Mr. Happy: That’s fucking ridiculous! Try again and call me when you get one!
Okay, there was no defusing this situation. Mr. Happy hung up on me before I could respond, but it’s just an example of the type of experience that makes my holiday so absolutely blissful.
Keith, you blew it. I would have said, “ok..no problem. You want a hamburger or chicken nuggets with your Happy Meal.” : )
Keith, you blew it. I would have said, “ok..no problem. You want a hamburger or chicken nuggets with your Happy Meal.” : )
that was funny!
It’s kinda like that comment from the guy from plum productions – the guys that were here filming the ford fiasco commercial and towed peoples cars, used private property, etc. when he said “we’ll be sending the city of aspen a letter detailing how badly we were treated” and threatening to discourage other showbiz productions to come here.
the proper resposnse to that is: ” Here, let me get you some nice stationary, sir”
that was funny!
It’s kinda like that comment from the guy from plum productions – the guys that were here filming the ford fiasco commercial and towed peoples cars, used private property, etc. when he said “we’ll be sending the city of aspen a letter detailing how badly we were treated” and threatening to discourage other showbiz productions to come here.
the proper resposnse to that is: ” Here, let me get you some nice stationary, sir”
It is so tempting to come back with a snappy retort. Unruly guests are the fodder of great stories by most waiters, waitresses and others in positions of servitude. The general theme of these stories is that the server’s scalpel-like retort left the guest befuddled and sputtering.
The common response from the person to whom the story is being told is, “You actualy said that?!”
The usual reply is, “No, but I wanted to.”
That is as it should be. I compliment Keith Hemstreet, alpha6 and Lost Sailor for playing the game in the proper arena, I Should/Could/Would Have Said Stadium. To do otherwise is to give away your power by letting the unruly guest know that they have gotten to you. The factual, direct, elegant clarity of Hemstreet’s reply to Mr. Happy, “…I’m sorry sir, but I mean exactly that. We were unable to get you a dinner reservation on Christmas. Every restaurant in town is booked solid” used the guests own words to punctuate the reality of the situation.
Keith thereby retained his power, position and authority without stooping to the unruly guest’s level. Without uttering his own title, position or experience, Mr. Hemstreet demonstrated the type of leverage the unruly guest would encounter each time he tried to play the “Do You Know Who I Am?!” game.
P.S. Iif anyone wants a fantastic meal tonight or tomorrow, Krabloonik at the far end of Divide Road in Snowmass Vilage still has a few openings tonight and tomorrow, Christmas Day. New Restaurant Manager Andrew Lodge and Executive Chef Daniel Friedrich have created a menu and a service-level this year that is unsurpassed in the idyllic spot’s 31-year history.
Tell them to ask for Clifford Fewel’s section!
Merry Christmas, Keith and all!
It is so tempting to come back with a snappy retort. Unruly guests are the fodder of great stories by most waiters, waitresses and others in positions of servitude. The general theme of these stories is that the server’s scalpel-like retort left the guest befuddled and sputtering.
The common response from the person to whom the story is being told is, “You actualy said that?!”
The usual reply is, “No, but I wanted to.”
That is as it should be. I compliment Keith Hemstreet, alpha6 and Lost Sailor for playing the game in the proper arena, I Should/Could/Would Have Said Stadium. To do otherwise is to give away your power by letting the unruly guest know that they have gotten to you. The factual, direct, elegant clarity of Hemstreet’s reply to Mr. Happy, “…I’m sorry sir, but I mean exactly that. We were unable to get you a dinner reservation on Christmas. Every restaurant in town is booked solid” used the guests own words to punctuate the reality of the situation.
Keith thereby retained his power, position and authority without stooping to the unruly guest’s level. Without uttering his own title, position or experience, Mr. Hemstreet demonstrated the type of leverage the unruly guest would encounter each time he tried to play the “Do You Know Who I Am?!” game.
P.S. Iif anyone wants a fantastic meal tonight or tomorrow, Krabloonik at the far end of Divide Road in Snowmass Vilage still has a few openings tonight and tomorrow, Christmas Day. New Restaurant Manager Andrew Lodge and Executive Chef Daniel Friedrich have created a menu and a service-level this year that is unsurpassed in the idyllic spot’s 31-year history.
Tell them to ask for Clifford Fewel’s section!
Merry Christmas, Keith and all!
this week I had the classic customer service comment – something to the effect of ‘I bring alot of people to this town, and I’ll see to it that none of them know your business even exists!”
as I bit my tongue and appologized, I’m thinking ‘sorry but the horse is kinda arleady outta the barn, pardner’
it’s been a long time since someone played that card………..
this town is a stress factory over christmas.
this week I had the classic customer service comment – something to the effect of ‘I bring alot of people to this town, and I’ll see to it that none of them know your business even exists!”
as I bit my tongue and appologized, I’m thinking ‘sorry but the horse is kinda arleady outta the barn, pardner’
it’s been a long time since someone played that card………..
this town is a stress factory over christmas.