As guests are dropped off at the front door, Stevens knows intuitively what to do. It is to protect them from yet another dose of unpleasantness. His job is the same as any other bellman’s in any other hotel but he does his far better than most. He is to do whatever the guests ask him to do, no questions asked: find a cab, tote bags, fetch a drink, give directions, etc. That’s his real job. But that is not all he is expected to do. He is expected to soothe guests; to help relieve them of their stress. And, if there is no evidence of stress, what then? The job doesn’t change: it is to greet guests with an attitude so genuine and lacking of affectation, that if anything lurks beyond the front door that might possibly exasperate, Stevens will deal with it before the guest sees it. He has a sixth sense about lurking things that might exasperate.
There are, however, moments in the life of a hotel employee—restaurant manager, housekeeper, or bellman—that test soul and will, mind and body. It is such a test that Stevens suddenly finds himself up against—it is a moment so volatile and implausible that no amount of frantic leafing through a training manual will provide an answer. All of the wonderful things Stevens has done to date, everything he has learned about dealing with guests, appear to be swept away by this prickly circumstance. He doesn’t wish to, but he reminds himself that he is an employee of one of the finest hotel chains in the world and that these kinds of things aren’t supposed to happen. What ensues, as you will see, is evidence of Stevens composure: his reluctance to become unruffled by prickliness.
It is early morning and Stevens is trapped inside the Anti TQM. He is immersed up to his ass in it. It unravels thus:
A businesswoman, a frequent guest, sends her bag to the bell desk before she checks out. Once checked out, she walks to the hotel’s porte cochere. The businesswoman is in a hurry: she is to catch an early a.m. flight from National that will take her to her office in New York and from there, later in the afternoon, following an important business lunch, she will fly to London. Stevens picks up the businesswoman’s bag and carries it to the cab that will take her to the airport. The bag isn’t hers. Hers was picked up by mistake earlier by a different guest. The businesswoman cannot afford to miss her flight to NY, ditto the business lunch and the flight later to London the trip for which she needs her bag. When Stevens hands her the bag, she looks at him, points to the bag and says, “That’s not my bag.” As she climbs into the cab, she points to the bag again and then to Stevens and says, “Fix it.” She is upset—riled is better—but she knows her request won’t be ignored. Somehow, some way, Stevens will fix it. This is, bear in mind, The Four Seasons.
The Four Seasons is known for fixing things even before guests realize that things need to be fixed. Stevens knows what to do to fix things, even though, in this case, it becomes a fixing-thing after the fact when it might be too late.
In the meantime, but a few minutes after the businesswoman has left, the errant bag returns, brought back to the hotel by a gentleman who thought it was his. He apologizes, grabs the right bag, leaves.
Stevens sighs a sigh of relief; finds someone to cover for him, hails the very next cab, and hightails it to National (you know the drill: Stevens to cabbie, “To National and step on it”) hoping he will get there in time to deliver the bag to the businesswoman. He is thinking, “I have fixed it.” He is too late. Her flight has left.
Stevens buys a ticket on the next shuttle to New York. From La Guardia he cabs it to the businesswoman’s office where, in full Four Seasons uniform, after having waited in the lobby for an hour, he presents the bag to the businesswoman when she returns from lunch.
(Fix it? But, of course.)
Here’s a quiz for you. 1) On her next trip to Washington, where do you think the businesswoman will stay? 2) If this story is so improbable that it has become the subject for this column, how many times do you think the businesswoman has regaled her friends and acquaintances with it to include even those she met at the meeting in London?
Finally, what sort of bonus do you think the general manager gave Stevens? Your answer here.
Doormen: Christos Georghiou
