OK, now I’m going to annoy a few people by doing this, however it does need saying. As many of you know, I love Swansea to bits - it’s people, its laughter and sense of fun, and its beautiful location. But there is one thing that I can not abide in Swansea
SERVICE!!
Not everyone is bad at it, or I wouldn’t be in business. And in fact, I have received some lovely, genuine, personable service, not least of all from supermarket checkout operators who, despite the potential monotony of their job, rise to the occassion to make the otherwise mindless experience of shopping not so bad. As an outsider I see that the people of Swansea have lots of gas to let out, and they are charmingly hilarious when they do get talking to you. And that is meant with the best possible sense of goodwill.
But if there is anything less than appealing, it is a business owner who gives you grief if you have the gumption to complain about the paucity of service. I’ve encountered this on a number of occasions, and sadly, most frequently in the restaurant trade, in both my roles as Jo Public and as editor of Food Passion. As editor, I have incurred the rudeness and sometime blatant lies of some business owners/staff, who are too lazy to remember their manners and say ‘no thank you’, and instead, concoct a plethora of stories which usually contradict themselves. On that brief note, if you are not interested in featuring in a top quality magazine, no problem, just say so. Just remember that every person you talk to, especially when you are in the restaurant business, is a potential customer. As the old saying goes, if you dissappoint one person they will tell 10 friends. Good god, what must happen if you provide rude service to a person whose job it is to tell others?
As Jo Public, I have found the disdain for even the slightest unusual query almost vehemently put to use. I recall once in a well known Swansea restaurant, Mumbles actually (to give you at least a reasonable chance to guess the culprit, though I am not going to mention their name), asking why my Bailey’s cheesecake (which the waitress had been promoting all night, and which I finally accepted, having been lobotomised by her incessant droning) was able to, in its entirety, be attached to the end of my fork and swung around, upside down, left to right, with no movement, no cracking, not even a crumb misplaced.
The ‘manager’ insisted there was nothing wrong, though I pointed out that gelatine levels in my Bailey’s cheesecake were probably approaching levels which would concern Health and Safety. I asked to see the owner (in a very reasonable fashion you understand), who also happened to be the chef (that should narrow your guesswork down just a tad further). When the manager returned, I was somewhat perplexed to hear that the owner/chef was too busy to see me. Somewhat startled, he had gained the upper hand here as I was only prepared to argue the gelatine levels with the man (oops, does that make it even easier to guess?) who had put them in the cake in the first place. So, unusually for me, I left it at that, and told him to take his cheesecake and…..oh if only I had said that. But I did ask for the bill, and guess what - it had a cheescake on there for £4 something. Truly flabergasted, I told the manager that if he wanted me to pay for that he would have to get the police to remove the pound notes from between the cheeks of my backside. OK, so I did mention police but maybe not the backside bit, as I don’t like to equally match rudeness.
I guess this was a battle of wills, one temporarily won by the said restaurant, until now anyway. For the manager proceeded to loudly announce that if £5 was too much for me to afford for a dessert, he would refund my money. In this then canteen-like set up, his every word bounced around the room like a ping pong ball in a bath tub. I shrivelled into my seat, but not before yelping that he could consider that £5 would have been a tip had they dealt with the problem properly. A lot of people must have made similar complaints and had similar responses, for the interior has since been renovated, at least saving some custom for future abuse by staff and management.
Suffice to say I won’t be entering the doors of this establishment any time soon. I also endeavour to provide some level of quality control within Food Passion, so you won’t be finding them in there either ( I can almost hear many of my featured restaurants breathe a sigh of relief here) - poor food is one thing, but a kick up the ass on the way out is truly too much.
I guess the moral of the story to the restauranteur is, at least try to employ good service and pleasant manners, whether it is to a food writer and advertiser, or Jo Public -because you never know who that person is ,or who that person is going to tell about their experience, and it could really backfire on you if you don’t. Here I would like to say a big thank you to all those who do possess manners and goodwill to customers and advertisers alike.
As for moralising (is that a verb?) to Jo public, you’ve figured out the moral already I guess, and if you are any good at puzzled, probably the place that I visited, but really I just need to say that if you smell something fishy, leave well alone.
If you have had similar experiences -post your notes here!