The Perfect Moment

On Sunday I had dinner at a new restaurant in Subang Jaya. My friends told me the food was good and reasonably priced.

Before we ordered, my friends were commending the pork, the fish, the duck - everything. I was spoilt for choice. I eventually ordered the pork porridge - I loved it. I couldn't stop gushing about every mouthful I was gorging down.

The meal was, in truth, bizarrely delicious.

Anyone observing us would be in no doubt that we loved the food from before we came in to the time we left. Anyone looking at me would be able to tell I was hooked and enjoying every bite.

Anyone, of course, except the people who ran the eatery. Or, if they DID know that me and my pals were having the meal of our week, they hardly demonstrated it.

• They didn't make it irresistible for us to return real fast - with, say, a 15% discount card for the next visit (for all purchases above $40 in a single receipt)?
• They didn't give us additional incentives to recommend the joint to even more friends (than we would have already)
• They didn't add us to an exclusive 'Everyday Eater' scheme (collect 8 stamps get the next meal at 50% discount?)
• They didn't give us a exit door gift for being such sporting customers (whatever that means)
• They didn't even ask us for a name card (which I'd be more than delighted to hand over had I one)

I mean, the restaurant had me by the guts (literally). They could've exploited that for more business, and could've done so with my glad and eagerly given permission(!).

And yet they didn't. Instead they have to rely on my self-sustained and hopefully undistracted patronage. Good thing, I'll remember the experience for a while.

But it's wise never to let such an opportunity pass one by : When customers are really really satisfied, do something. They'll be more than glad you did.