Hello, We're Breaking Up?

When my cell phone rang on Friday afternoon before Thanksgiving I knew from the caller I.D. that it was my boss, the president of the company. Although I was stuck in detour traffic in the midst of wine country's Carneros appellation and I knew reception would be bad, I answered anyway.

Bad reception is an understatement. The voice on the other end of the iPhone stated his usual greeting.

"Hello, John. #$! here. What the F*&* have you done to her? She is damaged goods."

"Pardon me", I said, adding, "What are you talking about?"

"You know Goddamn well what I am talking about. She is still complaining about how bad customer service and support is. I have told you not to discuss that with her. She is just a stupid salesperson. She is just supposed to sell the product. You have ruined her. She is complaining to him about everything. I don't think we can save her."

"You are breaking up. I can't hear you very well." I said, hoping to alleviate a further altercation.
"Call me back then", he said.

"Are you nuts", I responded. "You want me to call you back so you can continue to go off like a lunatic about customer service. I don't think so."

I knew that my boss was under a lot of pressure. An acquisition he was attempting to formulate was not going well. He had to deliver something, anything by year's end as he had explained in a meeting only week's before, or the shareholders were going to cut the American company off. On top of this pressure, Thanksgiving was fast approaching and he was going to be alone for the holiday. His wife, who floated between the marketing and content departments in the company, wielding the stick of an undercover executive had decided to move back to Bangalore for the second time in three years to tend to the ailing family dog, which seems to have more lives than most cats we know.

All the while his proclivity for Captain Morgan's more affluent imported cousins was getting the better of him every night precisely after 6:00 p.m. as his late night email jags were being precluded by late afternoon yelling sessions.

As he continued to yell I proceeded slowly, locked in traffic on the two lane road rolling through Carneros. Home of Domain Chandon, The Carneros Lodge, and other well-known wineries the region was not only one of the world's most famous appellations but stood as a symbol of businesses based on quality, customer service.

Looking out over the golden vineyards of autumn I began to question why a supposedly bright man could be so blinded by an ego that he did not read the numbers he professed to worship. He ignored the fact that product cancellations outnumbered new contracts. And I thought it ironic that he would call someone who questioned the company's lack of customer service, damaged goods, when that was exactly why his company was failing. Having lost money consistently for 36 quarters the answer was in the accusation- he was selling damaged goods.

It wasn't always this way. Back in 1995 when I met the other half of the dysfunctional duo, he won my account because of his customer service skills. Back then, it was a matter of life or death the restaurant equipment I ordered would be delivered on time. With less than three days to go before my restaurant was due to open my barstools were in Tennessee. My restaurant was in Carmel, California.

That was how this all began. I had just moved to Carmel, California where I had purchased a restaurant, my fifth in group of single concept eateries based in the Mid West. I had left a career in journalism five years earlier. I purchased the Carmel location on my honeymoon as the beach in Carmel was too sensual to leave behind. I asked other restaurant owners where to buy equipment and was told Cresco Restaurant Equipment in San Francisco had a young, aggressive salesperson, who was great with owners and knew the meaning of customer service.

I had little idea how much a part that trip to Cresco would play in my future. Ironically, it was there I first met the present day partner of the screaming president. He was selling restaurant equipment. A puppy of sorts, looking for a future, he had a great sales approach and since he prided himself in customer service the word was spreading throughout the industry of his ability to deliver- on time.

Unbeknownst to either of us, his customer service ability would bond us then and years later when I went work for the company he co-founded with Captain Morgan's buddy. But the road that began in that restaurant supply house and was now stalled in a Vineyard traffic jam was much longer and less travelled than most would have endured. The real saga began in 2000 when we were all looking for Internet Gizmos.