How do you tell fact from fiction?
Can you remember the aching childhood frustration of getting a grown-up to believe you when you knew you were not lying? As a child, I could never understand why adults had such difficulty in seeing the truth.
But as an adult I now understand that, somewhere along the way, we lose that sixth sense. Read on and see if you can tell who is telling the truth and who is lying.
The customer's story
Fourteen people were having dinner at Smollensky's to celebrate a colleague's birthday. Twelve out of 14 sat at the reservation time of 8.30pm and two joined 10 minutes later. After ordering at 8.45pm, they waited one hour for their starters to arrive. Three of these were cold and sent back.
Forty more minutes passed before the main courses arrived. Nine of the 14 were sent back as unsatisfactory, over-cooked, under-cooked, cold, inedible, and so on.
Nine replacements were brought and six of these were sent back as still unsatisfactory.
Six new main courses were brought out and four of these had to be returned once again. Smollensky's manager then suggested ungraciously to the group that they leave (without paying).
The management's story
The group sat down in dribs and drabs and refused to order until about 9.15pm. Their starters arrived within 10 minutes. Three starters, rejected for being cold, were tested and found to be piping hot. They were replaced anyway.
The main courses arrived in 20 minutes and only two of the complaints were marginally justified. These had to do with the interpretation of rare versus medium-rare steaks.
Because of the impact these "spurious" demands were having on the kitchen and hence service to other tables, the manager felt it best to get this group to leave at any cost (in this case £300).
Management and waitress said that they were puzzled because these people did not look like professional complainers who were out for a free meal. They were pleasant, middle-class, well-behaved professional types.
The group, in departure, complimented the waitress (without irony) for her patience - and they even tipped her. But they left angry at Smollensky's.
When I received the report of this incident I held a thorough enquiry (who writes off £300 without one?). Everyone involved, including the waitress, was adamant that these customers should be contacted.
I believed them and wrote a letter which ended with the words: "We respectfully suggest that it is best for all concerned that, in future, you find another restaurant that is more able to meet your needs."
Staff complimented me on my support. What a boss I am, eh?
A few days later a member of the party phoned me. He said that as a long-standing regular customer (I checked, he was), he owed it to me to let me know about what "really" happened.
We spoke for well over half an hour. He was articulate, sounded sincere, and was most convincing. He felt that if my management denied what he knew to be true, they were lying.
I weighed up the evidence. My management know I will forgive the occasional cock-up, even £300 ones, and hence have no incentive to hide the truth. Had we "screwed up", they could just as easily have told the customer gracefully that in recognition of Smollensky's errors there would be no bill for their meal.
However, the customer who called me had nothing to gain either, as the group had had their meal for free and could not possibly be expecting another one (could they?). Why bother to call me, if not out of a desire to help, when there are so many other restaurants to choose from?
I have now spent more than four hours on this incident (not including writing this) and I still can't tell fact from fiction. Can it be like the Rashomon fable, where everyone is telling the truth but each witness knows only part of the story? I haven't a clue.
Are there any children out there with their "sixth sense" still intact? If so, please help.
