Life and pondering the merits of a NO REFUND CULTURE
Grumped
Grumped: Ugly shoes
Oct 10th
Is it any wonder that these doll skin pink boat shoes are on sale! They are The ugliest thing I have ever seen. Shudder.
Grumped: Gutted that Big Brother is over
Sep 10th
So sad that Big Brother is over. I know that people think it was twoddle but I have always loved it. Shed a wee tear. I know it is a cliche but I really loved Davina. I hope she gets a great gig. Need her on my TV. I also totally think BB11 winner Josie rocks. This sound bite by our Josie is so funny…
Grumped: Restaurants with filthy loos (Browns, Islington)
Dec 22nd
(SEE UPDATE FROM 28 DECEMBER BELOW) On Sunday night we meet up with friends on Upper Street in Islington. We hadn’t booked a restaurant and as we drove across town (running half an hour late) we decided to go to Browns Restaurant (everyone knew where it was).
Had a fun time catching up in the pleasant surroundings that is a Browns restaurant (dark wood, cream walls, potted palms, waiting staff in crisp white shirts and ties, decent food and wine – the standard Browns experience). There was however a problem. Here is the email that I sent yesterday morning to Browns Restaurant via there customer feedback form on their website…
Last night I went for a meal with friends in your Islington restaurant. The food and service was great but there is a massive problem. The toilets are disgusting. They were filthy dirty – urine all over the floor and I have NEVER been in a loo that smelt so bad. I had a headache from the smell. This is the worst toilet that I have ever been in. Unbelievable even for a public loo or a grungy pub but this is meant to be part of a restaurant (and from a brand that I really like). What is going on? Apparently the ladies loos were nearly as bad. This has really put me off your brand. It you will let that pass then I have dire concerns about what is going on back stage [in the kitchen]. Please let me know your thoughts on this. I will be writing about this on my blog and would be interested to include your response.”
I got a auto response email that said that I would get a response in a maximum of seven days. Not good enough for me so I called their head office (they are part of a bigger group). I spoke to a nice lady on the switchboard who passed on my message to the right department. I then spoke to and got an email from Margaret…
Dear Mr Crump Thank you for taking the time to write. Please accept my sincere apologies for the disappointing visit you had at our Browns in Islington. I have forwarded your complaint on to the General Manager who will investigate your complaint and contact you direct. Kind regards.
UPDATE / 28 DECEMBER: The General Manager sent me an email saying the situation is rectified and thanking me for pointing out the problem (which he agreed shouldn’t have been prompted by a customer). He has also tried on numerous occasions to get hold of me on my mobile and I keep on missing the call.
However in the meantime my thoughts on this are:
- Filthy toilets in a restaurant are totally unacceptable
- The loo in Browns Restaurant in Islington wasn’t simply a case of it wasn’t cleaned or checked on that day – the loo was so stinky that this wasn’t a “the cleaner was off today” situation this was total neglect and in my view shows that they don’t care about their customers
- When I mentioned the state of the loos to the waitress you could tell by the look in her eye that I wasn’t the first person to complain (plus the poor staff probably had to use them as well so they know how bad they are)
Grumped: Things that make you go humm
Nov 13th
Not a great start to the day (it is Friday 13th after all)…
In my attempt at being more of an Eco-warrior I have ditched my car in favour of cycling, training it in or if I have loads to carry then I jump in a taxi. Collectively this is all far better for the environment than my solo back and forth to work in a car.
The weather is filthy this morning – rain, rain and more rain.
So therefore bike was a no (have two client meetings today and need to look half decent)…
…because of the rain the roads are jammed with cars, so no to a taxi…
so the train it is…
Actually I ended up in a taxi…
The train drivers are on strike (as they don’t get overtime pay – who does these days?) resulting in only a 50 percent service. This meant that that the trains are double full and you cannot get on them.
Commuters all look like they are going to blow up in anger or die in limp resignation.
So I high tailed it out of the hell.
However please don’t think I got off lightly. In my dash to the taxi from the dry station entrance a bus launched an avalanche of water on me (not quite the tidal wave that Bridget Jones got but quite close).
So I sit here in the back of my cab typing my post slowly steaming dry and lamenting the convenience and comfort of my car (climate control, leather seats, radio 4).
You gotta be tough to be an Eco-warrior – not sure that I will ever get an award for bravery – in fact I am totally sure :+)
No Refund Culture: Not so Proud door policy (see 100% redemption update at end of post)
Jul 17th
It’s Friday night and a few of the office gang decided to pop out for a wrap-up the week drink. We decided to go to Proud – oh the irony.
Now Proud is a bit of a Camden institution and has shifted to another part of the market. It is now in a fantastic venue – with a huge dance floor / stage area and a great bar area in the old stables – all terribly cool. It is the last time I am going to pop in.
My colleague and I popped in at 7:27, while two others hung back and put in calls to get ‘passes’ for a few drinks from their respective partner. I had a look around and was really impressed by the decor and general ambience – the place was virtually empty this early in the evening so it was quick and easy to survey the general coolness. At 7:31 the other two hadn’t come in. So I dashed back to the door to find them haggling to get in without having to pay.
Apparently they charge to get in after 7:30, and despite the fact that the door dolly acknowledged that she saw them hanging out on the phone, and saw the advanced party go in she was insistent that they needed to pay (and was really rude in the process).
Guess what, no refund culture rules. Having asked her politely to reconsider and her saying no, I smiled and lead the gang away to another totally great bar – with no dopey door dolly. We spent at least £40 on a couple of rounds of drinks and then all went off on our merry way home.
I’m not going back to Proud – they won’t miss me, they don’t care. It might be cool, it might be a destination, but you know what they have competition. They have staff allowed to act stupidly and damage their business. You reap what you sow.
UPDATE (two days later): Over the weekend I got two emails from Alex at Proud Camden (plus see his comment below). Guess what PROUD DOES CARE. Basically a promoter pays £3,000 to hire the venue (and she is probably the lady on the door) and after 7:30 pm she is able to charge and earn back the large sum of money that she has invested. It was irritating to be on the end of this door policy but you can see the sense in it (we are in a major recession and this lady is being an entrepreneur and will need to make her money back). Thank you Alex at Proud for explaining this. Proud is clearly a venue that does care (a lot). Next time on a Friday after work drink we will need to get there earlier!
Crump learning:
I need to explain the ‘No Refund Culture” thing much more – it confused the hell out of Alex (I can see why). One good learning from this post is that given the opportunity to explain my Grump they did explain themselves and as a result I hold them in much higher regard than I did before – I will now make an effort to go to Proud – I loved the venue – the management clearly DO care – just got to see if they pour a good pint now ;+)
Grumped: BA turning into Ryanair
Jun 9th
In a massive traffic jam on the M25 having been picked up from T5 by a taxi driver. So a Grumped moment is at my finger tips…
Milan trip was good. I even managed to catch a bit of the old part of the city with a late night walk followed by an alfresco beer with Chair and our my lovely client. All very pleasant although it was pointed out that my eyes were blood shot and I looked like hell (the daily disposable contact lenses are very unforgiving after 18 hours of wear).
My Grumped moment relates to my flight out to Milan on Saturday.
I stupidly attempted to check in two bags. My micro suitcase and a laptop bag (doubling up as an ‘on-site event bag’). The latter contained scissors and all manner of other sharp pointy things that you cannot take through Security – and hence why I wanted to check it in.
Anyway I wasn’t allowed to without paying £35 pounds as my ticket only allowed one bag to be checked in. This was despite the fact that both bags together weighted less than my allowance.
Most annoying and out from my mouth popped the title of this post. This was met by a harsh look – batted back with my most smiley of smiles. ‘Frosty’ then couldn’t – I guessed faked – not being able to print me a receipt and inconvenienced me further with a trip to the baggage desk where ‘Incompetent’ was unable after 10 minutes to print me a receipt.
Learnings from experience:
- Don’t fly British Airways – I know they are our national carrier but they are expensive and don’t give you a better experience
- Remember to get your jumbo suitcase from storage before you fly
- Pay a few pounds to have your small case cocooned in 200 metres of security plastic wrapping. As the Spice Girls said “two becomes one” and you don’t pay the extra (as I did on my return journey)
So ziga zig argh BA. I hope the £35 compensates for my new BA avoidance strategy.
Anti-Grumped: B&Q redemption…
May 25th
I posted recently about the B&Q glue disaster.
My follow-up on this is that the glue washed out of my clothes and my beloved Armani jacket came out of ‘Paradise’ with the glue removed. I took my dry cleaning bill back to B&Q. The nice duty manager from before was there. He looked relieved that he didn’t have to pay for a new jacket and gave me the dry cleaning money plus a card to get 10% my shopping.
So I stocked up on plants for the garden (all now planted).
So not a bad outcome from the Orange DIY establishment in the end then.
Grumped: Cartier watches
May 16th
A few years ago when I was employed by someone else to run their agency (rather than run my own) and I was earning too much money (ergo: I don’t earn loads now!!!), I made a very frivolous purchase.
That purchase was a Cartier watch – it cost several thousand pounds. The thrill of buying it was amazing and it came in the BIGGEST box that you have ever seen (about 30 cm by 30 cm by 20 cm) to house a watch. But the box did come with two straps (a metal one and a leather one) plus an all important lifetime guarantee – which I was told by the jewellers to keep safe and they did all the necessary stamping to it to prove purchase etc.
I have to say that I really loved that watch and wore it every day for more than five years. Now a while back it started to lose time and making a weird clucking noise. So I hocked out the lifetime guarantee from the aforementioned box and took it back to the jewellers. They filled out all the paperwork, keeping the lifetime guarantee documentation and I paid the £20 charge to get the watch sent off to Cartier. I got a call from the jewellers about two weeks later telling me to come and pick up my watch. So in I go to collect it. On arrival and I am informed that Cartier has said that they cannot mend the watch under the lifetime guarantee because they believe the watch has been ‘knocked’.
Now first of all I cannot recall the fateful knock – but the chances are that a watch is going to get ‘knocked’. For hell’s sake it’s a watch that has wrapped around my left wrist for five years. Secondly, and this is the bit that really annoyed me, Cartier said that for £300 they could service the watch and that they felt that would fix the problem!!!
There is no way that I am going to pay Cartier another £300 to get that watch fixed. I am not sure if I am cutting off my nose to spite my face here but I am really cross about the principle that I made this purchase with a belief in a globally renown luxury brand’s lifetime guarantee.
I have read the small print of the guarantee and it really does turn out to be a worthless piece of paper with ‘get out’ after ‘get out’ clause. I have tried to search the Internet to see if other people share my frustration – but you cannot find anything as Google searches just bring up thousands of pages selling either fake or second hand Cartier watches.
With hindsight I look back on the Cartier purchase as something actually embarrassing. In these current credit crunch times, as us Westerners feel a bit squeezed and our charitable donations have declined, there are millions of people around the world who are suffering as a result. That watch now symbolises something a bit obscene and what is wrong with the world in which we all lived a few years back…
- That I felt the need to demonstrate my worth by buying into the luxury myth – a watch shouldn’t cost thousands of pounds – it’s just plain dumb
- Big brands, such as banks and those purporting to be luxury are in many instances just hollow worthless shells – they have no substance or care for their customers and make them feel like duped fools
I am not a tree hugger (although I am sure that an embrace of a three hundred year old oak tree might help us put our small periods on this planet in perspective), however I do hope that as we all come out of this recession that we can individually and collectively wise up. That we recognise what is valuable, solid and worthy of our attention and investment.
Boy this post opened up a can of worms!
Grumped: You can glue it if you B&Q it
Apr 10th
Ok, ok, I know it is my own fault for not going to Homebase for my Easter weekend DIY needs…
Chad and I stupidly went to B&Q (groan) so it’s my own fault for getting myself covered head to toes in contact adhesive.
It is especially my own fault because it was B&Q branded adhesive (ok it was ‘IT’ branded which is their rubbish kitchen range but you have to give me some dramatic license here), I mean it actually had a B&Q logo on it – so I was simply asking for trouble…
I pick up a tube of glue today in the ‘Orange Hell’ and the tube (and it turns out every other tube of glue in that box) had a split in the top of them. I walked down the aisle and with the tube in my hand, hear a weird squirting sound, and next thing I know I look down and the tube has covered me (jacket, cardigan, jeans, shoes and bag) in fringin’ glue. I was so angry that I nearly took off through the leaking prefabricated roof. Poor Chad didn’t know what to do (other than look a bit scared and suggest that we get another tube!!!). Thankfully he didn’t laugh as I might have started crying as there was a major excess of adrenaline in my veins at that exact point.
Anyway I get dumped at the paint counter by an assistant with some wet wipes to try and get the glue off me – which I proceed to smear deep into the fibres of my clothes. After asking TWICE I was taken off to see the manager. He was actually very nice and wrote me a letter of apology on the spot (with instructions on the dry cleaning policy followed by the clothes replacement policy).
I am gutted that I have glue on my beloved and favourite Armani jacket. I hope that it can be saved in Paradise* or otherwise B&Q face a £600 replacement bill.
Anyway I HAVE to learn from this. Stop going to The Dump and go and see the lovely people at Homebase when I have DIY needs. They may be an extra five minutes drive away but I won’t end up wanting to tie bricks to my feet and jump in a reservoir after I leave.
* The lovely dry cleaners on Parkway in Camden.
Loved stuff: Brussels – good, but mainly bad and ugly
Apr 10th
I write this post as I hurtle along on the Eurostar back to London having spent a full week with a client at a congress in the capital of Europe (and Belgium): Brussels. This is probably at least my thirtieth trip and time and time again it’s just amazing how this city continually fails to impress.
A trip to Brussels is more about the highlights: suddenly finding great stuff, little sparkles of joy, amongst the mire of total and utter crude. The whole city is full of truly grumpy people, far too many very scary and aggressive homeless people (I’d be hostile if I was homeless as well by the way), and generally a feeling that everyone, given the chance, would jump on the Eurostar, and like me experience the palpable sense of pleasure that grows proportionally in relation to the distance that you are sped away.
Now first of all, I must say that I feel quiet lucky this trip – I wasn’t robbed. A trip a few years back saw my laptop being nicked while waiting in a taxi queue. Not so for a colleague on this visit, who was accosted by some ‘drunks’ on his way back from a restaurant, only to find that they were in fact pickpockets who relieved him of his wallet. Poor Stuart.
On this trip there were some good bits; meeting up with two old work colleagues and going for a great dinner, as well as eating in two other fantastic restaurants with my super clients. One of these restaurants had a crazy menu of weird food combinations that were ace – amongst the choices were combinations of starter and main course that were billed to be ‘rejuvenating’, ‘detoxifying’ and ‘energising’. There was also a ‘pregnancy’ menu which I avoided.
But this is the thing about Brussels – the food is really good, excellent and I always enjoy it (and I am not a foodie), but pretty much everything else is well, rubbish, disappointing, irritating, or downright anger-inducing.
Other than being robbed which is never a good experience, elements that drove the Crumpometer into the red this trip were
- A range of smelly taxi drivers: you name the exudates and I seemed to get into a taxi honking of it – totally disgusting
- A range of taxi drivers who needed anger management therapy. I even had to shout at one to inform him of my displeasure as he steered me through a number of near death experiences
- The RUDEST and LAVIEST congress centre-employed staff EVER…
…They just did not want to be there. A piece of chewing gum on the sole of their shoes would have been more welcome in their lives. The exception was a lovely lady called Alyson who worked with my team on site who was ace but we hired here from a separate agency. An example of the staffing drudge happened for about the 50th time this week as I approached an information desk this morning. Lumpylo (I think that is what her name badge said) behind the desk had her back to me as I approached to ask her for some ‘information’. She was woofing her way through a croissant (or three), turned her head towards me (I still had the full view of her gargantuan butt) and talked to me firing crumbs out of her mouth while still skilfully maintaining a sneer from the corner of her mouth. She was totally unhelpful, did that shrug of the shoulders that so perfectly communicates: ‘I don’t give a bugger about you and I would in fact be delighted if you would move out of my sight, die and never darken my door ever again’. Aaarrrggghhhhhh
Another annoying, yet amusing, congress employed staff moment was with the audiovisual technician who fell asleep in full view of the audience of the meeting I was helping organise (he was literally slumped over the av equipment). Initially I panicked as I though he was dead but a sharp prod to the ribcage seemed to revive him!!!
Anyway must stop the grumbling now, Brussels was good in many ways. the congress was fun, clients were super, activities all went well, plus I am now back in Blighty having emerged from the Channel Tunnel and am on my way home to decorate the kitchen – oh bugger, maybe Brussels isn’t that bad and ugly after all…
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