Making Friends

A number of years ago, I wrote the following story for my personal business “memoirs” about an experience at a high-end/world-class golf facility, across the Mason-Dixon Line.  The type of experience that compels you to share the details with your friends, your colleagues and anyone remotely interested in the “customer experience“.  In addition, the type of experience that can only be embellished as it passes from one to another.

In March, I hosted a three-day out-of-town business/golf boondoggle to play two sensational courses.  On our first day, we visited a world-class 36-hole facility routinely ranked in the top 100 public courses in the country.  The forecast was frightful however, we convinced ourselves we had a shot at our 7:47 tee time.

At 7:45, we approached the tee box where we met Phil from Saginaw, Michigan, (I know, because he was wearing a nametag!), our cheerful, optimistic, greeter/starter.  As Phil reviewed the protocol for the day (cart rules, pin positions, pace of play, etc.) the skies opened up.  Phil immediately suspended play, suggesting we head for the clubhouse as he scampered back to zipper up his cart.  By the time we reached the clubhouse, which was a haul from the first tee box, we were soaked to the bone.

Once inside the clubhouse we found the lounge, ordered breakfast and watched the morning news with thirty of our closest friends who were in a similar position.   Every fifteen minutes or so, I would visit the adjoining pro-shop to check the weather hoping for good news.

Around 9:30, on one of my many pro-shop runs, I witnessed a foursome paying for their 10:07 tee time.  The cashier cordially accepted the customer’s credit cards, indicating that play was currently suspended, suggesting play should resume in thirty to forty-five minutes.

At 9:50, I once again visited the pro-shop (now considered an unofficial member of the pro-shop “weather team”).  The bright yellow mass remained stagnant on the screen.  A member of the 10:07 foursome approached the counter, concerned the continued delay would make things challenging for their late afternoon flights to Seattle, Hawaii, Boston and Houston.  The cashier asked for their continued patience as he remained confident the storm would soon pass.  Twenty minutes later, no change in the conditions or the forecast, the same representative once again approached the counter stating that they needed to be heading to the airport, simultaneously requesting a refund.

The cashier calmly informed the representative that he would be unable to issue a refund (company policy) however they would gladly issue a certificate for four free rounds of golf within the calendar year, at the group’s convenience.

The representative was visually stunned with the response and proceeded to deliver a compelling “Perry Mason” like argument, suggesting the policy was illogical due to their geographical restrictions (remember Seattle, Hawaii, Boston and Houston), concluding by reminding the cashier that their group had collectively spent in excess of $2,500 at their facility over the past four days.  Now, in addition to the hostile foursome, word traveled throughout the clubhouse and most, if not all of our closest friends were shoehorned into the pro-shop, waiting for the final verdict from the bench.

The representative of the foursome made a last ditch (explicative laced, non-Perry Mason like) plea, suggesting that in lieu of the four free rounds of golf, an in-kind pro shop credit would resolve the situation.  The cashier, not one to cower to the considerable pressure, simply wagged his head from side to side.

This experience lives with me to this day as the story rears its ugly head from time to time.   It is a reminder (personally and professionally) to attempt to do the right thing, to attempt to make friends and attempt to make people feel special.  At times, much easier said than done!

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The back nine can only get better!