Service Charge
I’ve been thinking a lot about the relationship between customer and front of house staff recently, what defines it, why it’s important and what happens when a customer contorts that relationship outside of its working parameters.
Over lockdown I read piece after piece about how restaurants were going to be different in the ‘new normal’. Washing up induced gratitude and a realisation that dining out wasn’t a right would mean customers would return with an eagerness to be engaged, not served. I’m here to tell you that has not happened.
This isn’t going to be a detailed account of the ways customers can abuse staff in their places of work. I’m tired of having to parade my experiences so that maybe someone, somewhere might change their attitude and I refuse to ask the same of others. I don’t want to repeat the conversations between my peers about the degrading, objectifying and relentless nature of hospitality work because I’m not convinced anyone can write something which will change that.
There are three stages to risk management: prevention, protection and prediction. As long as bars and restaurants exist, so will abuses of power between those being served and those doing the serving. Prevention, as far as I am concerned, is off the cards. But with that resignation comes an urgency to put measures in place to protect and to predict who is going to need that protection the most.
A key part of training for front of house involves how to interact with customers (and their complaints) as empathetically and sensitively as possible. I know to tread carefully for the first half hour of each dining experience whilst people are at their hangriest, the importance of never making anyone feel stupid for a lack of familiarity with dining out and that when customers complain what they want most is to feel listened to and understood. But what happens when a member of staff has a complaint about a customer?
Calls for diversity in workplaces need to come with guarantees of safety.
From my experience, very little. Up until my current place of work I have rarely had a complaint about the way a customer has interacted with me taken seriously. Training for how to handle complaints from customers need to come with policies and procedures for what happens when the tables turn. Who staff need to go to, what courses of actions can be expected to take place and how the safety of that member of staff will be considered all need to be made readily available. Complaint procedures have to work both ways.
Calls for diversity in workplaces need to come with guarantees of safety. If those from marginalised groups are working for and amongst a majority white, male & cis-het team then what happens when boundaries are crossed by customers who look like their colleagues? Instances go unreported, mental health gets affected and notices get handed in. Work needs to be done so that staff know they can relay experiences and be met, not just with empathy and understanding, but with action as well. We cannot control what a customer is going to bring to the floor but we can control how we respond.
Then there’s the issue of pay. Minimum wage suggests minimum effort but it also implies minimum respect. Employing people on minimum and living wage (the least you can employ someone whilst getting a pat on the back) puts them on the lowest tiers of society, so is it really a surprise when we get treated as such? How do we let customers know that our roles are worthy of respect when our pay checks say otherwise?
We heavily rely on customer satisfaction in order to pay our rent and as a result customers are not just our customers, but our employers as well
You learn pretty quickly on the job that money per head is relevant to the amount of abuse you should suffer through and tips are no exception to that. I’ve been denied the pay rises I’ve sought for staff members because of the fact they receive tips. I’ve had tips used by customers to justify what has been demanded of me. When working as a general manager my tips made up 25% of my income, but my salary was the equivalent of under minimum wage per hour for the amount I was working.
We heavily rely on customer satisfaction in order to pay our rent and as a result customers are not just our customers, but our employers as well. It’s a power dynamic that needs to be dissolved.
For so many, working in hospitality means that on entering your place of work your needs become diminished so you can become subservient to the needs of others. I’ve curated a different personality and hierarchy of needs for working so I can move through my shift snagging on as few customers as possible. The mental toll is exhausting. But it doesn’t have to be that way.
Earlier this year Hill and Szrok scrapped both their 12.5% service charge and the opportunity for customers to tip. Tired of a system that ‘cashes in on gratitude’ and that is ‘at best, unfair, and at worst, total bullshit’ they’ve raised their prices in order to pay their staff more and ‘stand up for the people who make their business run’. By literally putting their money where their mouth is they are making their stance clear - we’re treating our staff well and we expect you to do the same.
Those essays I devoured on how things were going to be different and times were going to change failed to take into account that very few people are operating at their best right now. The changes needed to make hospitality hospitable for those working in it have to come from a place of want, not need. There seems to be little time for that when right now the focus is on survival. But we’ve proved that we’re capable of change on a mass scale, seen how crucial staff are for that change and experienced (for the most part) how eager customers are for it too. There’s no excuse now.