The other day, my wife and I were out for date night. There was a new café open in town, and we thought we’d check it out. We ended up hitting two different places that night, and this story is about the dramatic difference in the customer experience between when a place gets the little details right, and when they get them wrong.
Café #1
We had high hopes for this place going in. The décor was modern, the music was jazz, and the reviews were top-notch. We walked up to the counter and were greeted by the friendly barista, who took our orders. The coffee was pricey, but we were willing to pay for quality. So far, so good.
Then, our orders came out. One sip of both of our drinks told us all we needed to know: our coffee was watery. First-world problems, I know. But when you’re paying $5+ for a drink, I’m paying not to have those first-world problems. We were disappointed. Anyway, bear with me, there’s a freakin’ lesson here.
I brought my drink to the barista, who was apologetic about the lack of flavour, and kindly made another drink. I ordered a straight espresso this time – all I wanted was to taste the quality of the beans they were using.
Unfortunately, the shot was way, way too bitter. Now I drink espresso straight all the time, and having just come from Italy where I didn’t have a single bad espresso, it’s safe to say it wasn’t my taste buds. I was still not impressed, and sat there debating with my wife about what to do. I had just resolved to politely drink my espresso and walk away, when the owner walked up.
“Hi, what was the problem with the drink?” He asked. I relayed my story, and offered him to try the espresso. He did, and immediately insisted on making another one (even though I’d be climbing the walls with my teeth if I drank it all).
When the second espresso was brought out, it was almost bitter as the first, though definitely an improvement. But by this point, I just didn’t have the heart to say anything – they did all they could. So I lied and said it was good. The owner then told me he was perplexed because he pulled the shot exactly the same way the barista had. His tone, however, insinuated that I was crazy and didn’t know what I was talking about.
This is where they lost us forever. The beans were bad, bottom line. I’m a terrible liar, and it was clear on my face that I wasn’t happy even with the last espresso pulled. But rather than offer up a snack or something different as a goodwill gesture, the owner let us walk out of there, for what will be the only time. We will never return to that café, not because the coffee was bad, but because they let us walk out of the shop with that being top-of-mind.
We left feeling let down, and walked across the street to a nearby Japanese Peruvian restaurant to grab a drink and an app and make ourselves feel better.
Let’s compare the difference in experience there.
Restaurant #2
The first thing we noticed when we walked in was the décor: modern Japanese bar-style décor is how I would describe. I don’t even know if that’s a thing, but it is now. We grabbed a seat at the bar and asked for a menu.
The drinks and apps all had an element of either Japanese or Peruvian influence. I ordered a gin-based yuzu drink, and my wife ordered seasoned yucca fries with an aioli sauce.
The next thing I noticed was the coaster. It was a beautiful linen cloth featuring a Japanese whisky brand, and I’ve never seen anything like it. I asked about it to the bartender, who told me that their supplier insists on giving them a bunch of those coasters to use for free.
We were intrigued.
As we began inspecting the décor elements more closely, we noticed small details that stood out to us: mini oak barrels. A large selection of top-shelf liquor (it represented about 90% of what was on display). Locally-made bitters.
We were even more intrigued.
Then our orders came. One sip of my drink told me all I needed to know: the drink was made perfectly. 2oz of booze and I couldn’t even taste it, it was that smooth. Then we bit into the yucca fries. Now, I’ve never had yucca fries before, but I knew that these had to be cooked perfectly. Crispy on the outside, soft on the inside, and seasoned to perfection. And dip it in the sauce that came with it? Man, get outta here, I can’t even.
As we ate and drank, we asked the bartender about the oak barrels. What was the story there? Were they used for anything, or just décor? “No, I use them,” she replied. “We age Negronis and other types of drinks in there; it helps to mellow out some of the flavours. I bought them so I could experiment with different drink recipes.”
So the oak barrels were both form and function. How about that. We polished everything off with joy, and asked for the bill, which was brought to us folded in half and held shut with a tiny clothespin. Again, a small touch that we’ve never seen before. My wife commented on how cute it was.
“Thanks,” beamed the bartender. “My partner wasn’t sure about it when I said I wanted to use them, but I’m amazed at how many people comment on them when they get their bill. I’m so glad I fought for her agreement to use them!”
Ah, so this was both the bartender and one of the owners. It was obvious that she took pride in even the small details of the restaurant. The décor was gorgeous. The food was even better. And the service was fantastic. Every detail was considered by the owners, and every detail was appreciated by the patrons.
That’s how it’s done.
Wrapping it Up
At first glance, it may not seem like these two examples were that different. But that’s exactly the thing. It can be the smallest details that make or break a customer’s experience. The stuff you may not think of right off the bat.
That’s why it’s so important to take pride in your work. That’s why you need to put your heart and soul into what you do. Because when you do that it shows. It shows in the big things, and it shows in the little details. And that’s how you delight a customer. This is true whether your customers are people, businesses, or other internal employees – everyone appreciates the small touches that show people you’re willing to go the extra mile.
