Maybe Spring is in the air, or I’v288_a73bca5126_gallerye just been lucky, but customer service has been on the uptick in my life.

Take last Friday.  Headed to see Cat on a Hot Tin Roof on Broadway and of course I leave my tickets on my desk.  Of course, it was Friday and a holiday, so no dice on a messenger.  And truth be told, I did not want to give up my pre-even cocktail or be late for the curtain in order to make the trek back.

Enter the manager and staff from Blue Fin restaurant, one of the many delicious restaurants that are part of the BRGuest group.  As a pre-theater hot-spot getting a managers attention at 7pm would seem like a challenge and a big ask.  However, in this case the staff quickly got me help, provided me an email address and the manager (thanks David) went and printed my tickets out.  Seems simple, yes, but not expected.

And I think that is the key here.  A busy restauntant in Times Square is often too busy to stop and consider customer service, and sometimes a part of a larger restaurant group doesn’t think they have the same skin in the game as a sole proprietorship.  By taking the time they not only made my night, but helped BRGuest stand out.

So many restaurant groups and brands do a good – if not overbearing – job on mass marketing once you are signed up.  But a lot fall short on the experience when you walk through the door.  And it is the complete experience, not just one channel that matters.  While leaving tickets for a show may not be common customer issue, taking the time to solve it is a great customer relationship builder.  Brands can learn here it’s not just the draw in, or the sale (let’s face it, I was on my second drink when the tickets showed up), but the cross channel experience that keeps people talking and coming back.

Thanks again Blue Fin & BRGuest… don’t mind if I do.

I admit I am a sucker for every points and gold club out there.  From my United Airlines status to the Starwood Preferred Points to Hertz Gold, I am constantly chasing the perks where I can get them, I mean who wouldn’t.  But this past Friday, an unexpected perk (potentially not eveimagen tied to my membership) totally surprised me AND made me a Hertz renter for life.

Here is the story.  Twenty minutes till flight leaves Dallas Fort Worth, just spent 90 minutes on a 20 minute drive due to an accident on the highway, and pull up into a huge line at Hertz Returns.  Sounds pretty bleak, right?  Well not that day (thanks girl at DFW Hertz).  When I pulled up my boss and I told the woman directing cars that we were potentially going to miss our flights.  She sprung into action, telling us to not even take our bags out of the trunk and to get back in the car; she would drive us to our gates. Unexpected and unbelievable. And we both made out flights thanks to Hertz.

When I dug further I found that this practice is a Hertz commitment and something that is not advertised but communicated as needed.  I guess people would take advantage if it was common practice.  But last Friday, when I needed it most, it was truly a brand practice that was all about me.

reconnect

After coming home from work yesterday, I did what I do every night: check my Facebook newsfeed to see what all my “friends” were up to.  Among the normal status updates about upcoming shows, ridiculous work hours, and the plethora of complaints my generation makes, something very interesting caught my eye: a link to a new Internet Explorer ad on YouTube.  The ad’s screen shot had the game “Hungry Hungry Hippos” along with the caption: “You Grew up.  So Did We.”  I couldn’t resist.

Before explaining this ad, I think it’s very important to mention that I absolutely abhor Internet Explorer.  It freezes inexplicably, messes with website layouts and is generally less reliable than my browser of choice, Google Chrome.  Internet Explorer is to browsers as New Jersey Transit is to mass transportation.  It’ll kind of work, eventually.

So, you can imagine my surprise when Internet Explorer decided to connect with me, personally, by helping me remember my childhood.  In their new ad, IE reminded us that they were around for generation Y’s most iconic trends: yo-yos, floppy discs, Oregon Trail, Lunchables, fanny packs, wallet chains and tomogatchis.  Besides reminding me of my childhood in the early 90s, this ad was trying to tell people my age that IE grew up with us.  As we learned new things, so did they.  And, now they want us to come back.

The thing is, I really don’t care that Internet Explorer remembers the days when boys sported bowl cuts and girls cared for electronic pets.  Those days are long gone, and remembering them does nothing.  Sure, those days were simpler because we didn’t have deadlines or relationship drama- but that’s because we were young.

I love this ad.  It’s cool to see how far pop culture has come in the past twenty years.  But, why did it take IE this long to realize they needed to change their reputation?  This ad is too little too late.  Yes, yo-yos WERE amazing, but that doesn’t make me switch browsers from Google Chrome to Internet Explorer.

 

gardenandgunA NY Times article recently noted that lifestyle magazine Southern Living announced it would be bringing in some new blood to the 56-year-old publication versed in southern recipes, decorating tips and practical advice.

Jenna  Bush Hager has been added to the roster as an editor at large, an attempt to draw in young, southern readership.

In a world where publication is starting to feel, well, antiquated, a large publication trying to pull in younger readers is not uncommon, nor is it a new story. In this world, many swipe rather than leaf through the pages of their favorite mag and many pubs are looking for ways to keep their print alive.

In the story, the Times mentioned another publication and this one set my heart aflutter – the stately, young Garden & Gun.

I am by no means a southern girl, believe me. When working on designing a hyper-local magazine for my former employer, I discovered Garden & Gun. Around that time, it’d won a National Magazine Award for General Excellence. So I checked it out.

What I found was an example of how print gets it right. It’s why I’ve given subscriptions to the magazine as gifts and have one myself.

Covers draw the eye: from dutiful canines to decadent pecan pies and cocktails so sinful you can practically taste the syrupy bourbon.  A flip through the pages and you’ll find interviews with literary voices of the southern states, profiles of cities like Knoxville, Little Rock and Greenville, an interview with Morgan Freeman, profiles of pioneers of environmental change and musicians like Mumford and Sons.  One issue can give you travel ideas for an entire year.

The writers have a connection to their coverage area. They know the south. They love it. They think you will too. Columnists include Julia Reed and Roy Blount Jr. and dog lovers will relate to the “Good Dog” column, telling heartfelt stories of man’s best friend. And true to its name, there’s plenty to learn about hunting and even a little fly fishing. It’s not my thing, really, but I still read it…

Because Garden and Gun isn’t trying to reach a demographic. It’s trying to reach a reader. Someone who can appreciate a hot summer day, that place on a back road with the best barbecue in town and the perfect song to pair with the perfect afternoon. It is so in tune with its readers, some pay up to $500 to be a part of the Garden & Gun Club.

To be successful these days, it’s not enough to just know our business. We have to know our respective cultures. Therein lies the key to a good product – even a great one like G&G.

super-bowl-XLVII-picAs a 24-year-old single girl living in Hoboken, I totally understand the whole Super Bowl phenomenon from both a social and marketing perspective.  Friends get together to eat ridiculously unhealthy food and drink copious amounts of alcohol while advertisers spend the bulk of their yearly budgets on 30 second commercials- all under the pretense of watching a football game.

What I don’t get is WHY some girls pretend to understand and like this sport.  To me, it’s nothing but a brutally boring and time consuming activity that I’d rather not waste my time on.  The ONLY reason I’d even consider watching a game is to A) socialize with friends and B) mock the new ridiculously expensive ads.

My problem is that the vast majority of these ads really do appeal to me.  I love that someone’s hunger makes them complain like Betty White.  I like watching Britney Spears sing in a gladiator’s arena for Pepsi.  But, what does football have to do with that?  I can watch these commercials on YouTube without suffering through the endless game!

So, I’m forced to ask the question: Do we really need the Super Bowl, or any other football games for that matter, to be on in order to feel it’s acceptable to drink all day and eat crappy food?  Not this year!

This year, I’ve decided to stage a Super Bowl protest.  Instead of hanging out with friends and pretending that I enjoy watching jacked-up men run around for no apparent reason, I’ve decided to dedicate my day to reading and working out.  It’s not that I’m anti-social, I just hate PRETENDING that I’m enjoying myself when I’m not.  If I’d rather be reading Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina in bed with a nice fresh beet kale salad than eating buffalo wings and drinking cheap beer, isn’t that my prerogative?

In years past, my friends have called me a loser and a homebody for not wanting to participate in such activities.  But, at the ripe old age of 24, I’ve decided that I no longer care what people think of my social behavior.  If I want to stay in bed on a Friday night and catch up on past episodes of Downton Abbey and Dance Moms, I’m going to do that.

So, to all you other fellow football-haters, what do you plan to do this Super Bowl Sunday?  Don’t succumb to peer pressure!  Try picking up an old classic (or a guilty pleasure read, if that’s more up your alley) and dedicate the day to engaging your mind rather than your stomach.

 

Seems like the term “story telling” has been the buzz word of 2012, getting tossed around like the word innovation was in 2000.  Today too many brands are looking for any way to connect with their consumer in an over-saturated and very brand-skeptical
market.  Brands can’t just push product – well maybe Apple – and assume their legions will follow.  There is a need to provide content that motivates their consumer and applies to their needs in life, their goals.  A tall order for a brand?  Well Coke thinks not.

Today, one of the most beloved brands – though plagued recently with Bloomberg’s and others bans on soda – is launching a new website transformed into a consumer publication called Coca-Cola Journey. According to Stuart Elliott’s column in today’s New York Times, the article points out that “the use of the word ‘story’ is significant because the Web site changes are indicative of the growing interest among marketers in recasting their communications with consumers as storytelling rather than advertising. Just as attention is being paid to developing content to use for brand storytelling, an appetite also exists for  corporate storytelling.”

The question remains for Coke and all brands as to whether the consumer will engage with the story and take the journey.  I think if they can create a journey with their target, rather than forcing them down the road strewn with ads and product promotions, the iconic brand has hope with its new offering.  So read on soda lovers.

Ok, I admit it made me laugh.  And I do have a friend who loses at least one Chapstick a day, but outside of the two of us it appears the Where do Chapstick’s Go campaign has Pfizer hoping it would just go away.  Why?  They didn’t stand behind their offer to listen and they went into what AdWeek called a “social media death spiral.”

It wasn’t the semi-offensive creative that sunk the campaign (though it got folks talking), and it really wasn’t the fact that consumers don’t wonder where their Chapstick went (not a good problem solution approach).  It was the fact that they asked for our opinion and then didn’t listen.  In a world where marketing and communications has to be about a dialogue with the
consumer, this campaign opened up the dialogue and tossed it back in the consumers’ face.

As we have seen by other social guffaws this year (I won’t name them to open up old wounds), there is a right way and a wrong way to respond and listen.  Those that have done it right – and you know who you are – got through the 1.5 days of backlash hell
and have moved on to building the brand alongside their consumers.  Chapstick’s response while accurate was late.  And their removing of campaign commentary simply said they didn’t want to hear from the people they invited to the conversation in the first place.

What would Suzy Chapstick think?

Living in Manhattan, I’m always surprised when I somehow manage to stumble upon a bad restaurant, a moody store owner or just generally bad customer service. The reason it surprises me is that there are so many good restaurants and retail establishments in Manhattan. With so much excellent competition, I don’t know how the good ones stay in business, much less the bad ones.

Plus, New Yorkers are notoriously… um… particular, which makes it all the more wonderful when an establishment is able to stand out above the rest. I’m speaking, of course, about that wonderful New York City bastion of grocery excellence, Fairway. What began as a fruit and vegetable stand in 1933 is now a nine-store juggernaut of high-quality food in the greater NYC area.

But that’s not what makes Fairway great. First of all, it seems like I always go grocery shopping at the wrong day or time. I’m always bumping elbows at the deli counter, dodging baguettes by the bakery or having my toes run over by stroller-pushing mothers in full yoga regalia. Fairway is great in spite of all that, much of which I attribute to my poor planning anyway. That’s because pretty much every employee I’ve ever encountered at Fairway has been helpful and human.

I’ll give you an example. One day I decided to go to Fairway right after work. As every working person is wont to do after work, I was rushing to get home. So I gathered my jerk turkey, dark chocolate with mint, greek yogurt and honey-glazed almonds, and jumped in the express line.

The customer in front of me was completely bonkers. One of those women of ambiguous age with an alien-esque stretched face and stringy hair, she was losing her mind because the cashier accidentally added an extra zero to some quantity of vegetables, making the grand total something around $400 for her handful of items. The cashier, handling a barrage of insults, patiently explained to the customer that she would get a manager to simply void the transaction. The manager came quickly, and, before voiding the transaction, asked the cashier what happened.

It was too much for the customer to handle. She kept screaming “I refuse to pay that much!” After voiding the transaction, the manager then offered the lady free delivery. I would have called a NYC Animal Control Officer to “crate” her for a while. When the debacle was over, and it was my turn at the register, the cashier and I looked at each other and both burst out laughing. It was a little slice of humanity indicative of what I always find at Fairway and supporting what Fairway says about itself: “Fairway: LIKE NO OTHER MARKET.”

 

It’s been awhile since my last blog but travel tends to inspire me to write, or maybe it’s just the ridiculous things that occur when on the road.  Last week, several colleagues and I flew to Chicago for a meeting.  I am typically a United (formerly Continental) gal but someone in the group (read: the boss) is none too pleased with United since the merger so we flew American. I was more than happy to go along for the ride particularly since the cost for a first class seat was marginally more expensive than a coach fare.  The trip out was uneventful although first class was lacking.  The trip home, however, was another story altogether.

Our meetings concluded a bit early so we bolted for the airport in hopes that we could hop on an earlier flight. During our two hour drive, a few back in the office were kind enough to help us research and rebook on an earlier flight. All was well or so we thought.  Upon arrival and check-in we learned that we were not only no longer in first class (allegedly there were no seats available which we later learned was untrue) but that we now owed American $300 EACH to move back to coach.  Wait, it gets better. Our esteemed colleague who had purchased an economy fare checked in and was upgraded and received a refund of $10 on his original ticket.  WHAT!?!?  In what universe does this make sense?

Now, I have absolutely no problem flying economy, in fact, 9 out 10 times, that’s where I am seated. The premium security access is what I am after.  American had no explanation for this except for “It’s how you booked. We don’t know why but we can’t help you.”  Well, American, the customer experience here was in no way “first class” but did have one redeeming quality. Gwen at the First Class ticketing counter at least attempted to assist us and ensured me that although we had now paid a small fortune to be downgraded we could enter through  premium security. Thank you, Gwen!  I will be flying United for the foreseeable future.  It’s not perfect but at least they make sense.

From a fancy dinner for two to a luxurious mani/pedi, I’ve taken advantage of the fantastic deals that Groupon highlights each day. However, while I sipped my morning coffee this morning, I stumbled upon the latest offering from the e-coupon giant: 75% off bunion removal in Manhattan.

Sure, New Yorkers do walk a lot and many likely suffer from foot ailments from time to time. However, I see a major problem with this: a hip, e-couponing company like Groupon is missing an opportunity to build its brand by curating deals that will resonate with its audience and show that they understand their needs. If Groupon knew its audience better, I wouldn’t have spilled my coffee in a fit of disgust and confusion this morning.

It wouldn’t be difficult for the company to learn a bit about me. I’d like to receive offers for discounted theater tickets or passes to a museum or a special tasting menu at an exclusive restaurant in Greenwich Village. By paying attention to my search history on the website, it is guaranteed that Groupon would see that I frequently peruse deals related to restaurants and events. I stay away from “deals” related to teeth drilling, skin biopsies, eye exams, etc.

In this case, the data was available but Groupon failed to listen to its customer. Perhaps I’ll see what Living Social has available today.