The Resort at Louis Lake

Right after I graduated from the great and wonderful University of Wyoming, I worked for the family owned Resort at Louis Lake. Talk about a great job. I worked up in the mountains all day, and as soon as the work was done, I went fishing. Not that the fish in the lake had too much to fear from me. It was a great summer, and not only because I got to butter up my future in-laws and trick them into thinking that I would be a good catch for their daughter. In all of my great times during those halcyon days, one experience takes the cake. I come to this story as a follow-up to a recent post I made about quality customer service. This story is from the other side, dealing with customers and the amazing things they think they can get away with.

I was up on the mountain on a fabulous Sunday afternoon, holding down the fort and sitting on the porch, reading a book. I don't think I could script a better afternoon if I tried. As I was sitting there, a car pulled up and a lady got out with her young teenage son. She wanted to look the place over and possibly stay a few days. So I gave her the tour and started up a conversation about the area. During the conversation, she mentioned that she was from out east, specifically New Jersey and was enjoying a vacation with her son. She asked me where I was from and said that I was born and raised right down the mountain in Lander.

She turned to her son and said, "Look, (insert some goofy looking boy's name here) a real live Wyoming person!" I didn't quite know what to say, but I gave her the benefit of the doubt, I mean, she was from New Jersey. We continued the tour of the resort and looking in the different cabins, and she asked how old I was. I responded that I was 25 and she quipped, "Well have you graduated from high school yet?" Honestly, how does someone have the gall to say something like that?! I said that yes I did indeed graduate from high school, and thought she was back tracking as she said, "I mean, you don't sound like your uneducated." Nope. I wonder if I just looked dumb because my jaw was sitting on the ground! Wow. I had never been treated like that, not even as a missionary. I was beginning to be rather vexed, and so I said a few choice words to her in Italian. She didn't like that one bit and gave me a death look while hissing at me, "What are you saying to me?" So I said a few more nice little things, and that really got her ire up. She started shouting at me, so I said quite simply that where I grew up, we were taught different languages to help us understand other cultures better. I went on by saying something along the lines that when you understood other cultures and people better, you could be more patient with those not quite as educated as yourself. It was almost like baiting one my sisters growing up. She went off like a rocket. She got the owner's number (I gave it to her quite readily) and said that I would be out of a job by the end of the day, and didn't I know that the customer is always right, and how dare I treat her that way and insinuate the things that I did. It was great. I told her that I was sorry, we didn't have any vacancies, and so she would just have to get into her car and leave. You could track her fumes for miles. I told my boss later that day, and just warned him he might be getting a call from a crazy irate woman who would chew him out for employing such a mean spirited person. He thought the whole thing was pretty funny. She never did call.