In the spring of 1999, I took my 4 month old baby for lunch to the long gone Rock Garden Cafe. I think it stood where the Apple Store is now in Covent Garden.
Baby Georgia had been somewhat of a screamer, and 4 months in I was both extremely sleep deprived and incredibly anxious.
On this particular day, she started warming up her lungs within seconds of my meal arriving, which prompted judgemental looks from my fellow diners. I gestured for the bill and started to gather my things, hoping to make the sharpest of exits.
What happened next has stayed with me ever since, because rather than bringing my bill, the waitress came and gently took Georgia off my hands, telling me to eat. She also dealt with some of the judgmental looks with a withering stare or two of her own. Georgia settled in the calm arms of the waitress, and this young mum teetering on the edge of sanity, ate in peace.
YOU NEVER FORGET HOW SOMEONE MAKES YOU FEEL
I’ve long forgotten the lady’s name, but never forgotten what she did. She saw me, she responded and she made more of a difference in that moment than she could possibly have imagined.
Why am I telling you this?
Because what she delivered wasn’t service, it was connection. It was meeting me where I was (absolute despair) and giving me what I needed, even though it probably wasn’t in her shift plan at the start.
And we have to do the same with our communications. Because to keep trotting out self-serving messaging, offers and incentives, while ignoring the human at the end of them has to stop. It doesn’t make human sense and it certainly doesn’t make commercial sense.
There’s much debate about whether loyalty can ever be possible again, but I know one thing. Rock Garden might be just a memory, but the positive sentiment I have for it is as fresh as ever.
Loyalty is both a feeling and a behaviour, to be successful you MUST fuel both.
