Dear American Airlines

After more than 14 years of loyalty, our romance is coming to an end. My patience is running low. I'm starting to get tired of the way you treat me. And it's weird, because it's not like I know you don't love me anymore, it's just that I'm finding it harder to find your love on-board.

We have spent hundreds of thousands of miles together (actually, almost a million) and you have taken me to some of the most wonderful places and adventures I've ever lived. You have rewarded my loyalty with multiple years of elite status that have made my travel experiences evermore easy and "rewarding": flight upgrades, easy reward redemption, preferred seating, priority access check-in and boarding... you name it, a bunch of privileges that have led me to even defend you in multiple occasions. I've always stood by you and have tried to convince people that you're a worthy lover, even after having to hear about so many dirty stories (excessive bag fees, poor customer service, long waits for check-in) which as an elite AAdvantage member I've never had to live.

But still, even as we spend more time together and those privileges continue to accumulate, I find myself increasingly disenchanted. And you might think that it's because I'm just turning into a grumpy old lover that is focusing more on the ugly than on the beautiful. But that really isn't the problem. Actually, in so many ways you are still perfect for me, and I've always loved you with your defects (such as your $150 bike box fees). The problem is not who you are or what you offer to me, but the way you treat me once I'm on-board.

What's wrong with your on-flight personnel? Are they not getting any training anymore? Is it really so hard for them to smile? I honestly don't care if they are having a bad day, they ARE the service providers and their attitude should always be good. They are your face to us clients. So for as much love as you give to me while not on a plane, I expect, actually I demand, to be treated in a better way. For as much as you try and have been able to convince me that there is still something going on between us, reality is that our romance is contracted and I happen to be on the paying side. So yes, I love you for how romantic you are with me year round and for all the chocolates and roses that you send to me on monthly basis, but I must say that if you keep treating me poorly every time we go out on a date... I'm not sure that our relationship is worth maintaining.

With love,
AA# 168KXXX

Does a brand know its customer or does a customer identify with a brand?

I saw this ad a couple of days ago and I immediately thought of my dad.  This is exactly what he used to do to me -minus the technology of course- so he had to use some old school techniques to disuade me from driving his car.  From odometer readings to steering wheel position, I always got caught!  Anyhow, my dad is a smart man, very smart I should say.  He drove a VW Jetta.  This was back in 1989.

Since then, I had driven a VW until very recently.  I am at a stage in life in which a 5 seater isn't enough for my family responsibilities, and VW's Routan just didn't cut it for me.  I had to switch.  Interestingly enough both my dad and I drive Mazda's nowadays, but I'm sure that he, like me, still thinks of his VW's and how smart they made us feel.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zCReC_8HTM8

Service interaction of the day: lost in translation

Setting: Miami Dade International Airport, 6:30 EST (5:30 CST), after a six hour flight from Lima, Peru.

Place/brand: Café Versailles (Cuban style cafeteria)

ME: Buenos días, ¡las empanadas de guayaba y queso se ven muy buenas! (good morning, the guava and cheese empanadas look great!)

CUBAN SERVER: Sí, buenísimas (yes, they´re great)

ME: Dame una por favor (give me one please)… and then I hesitate for a moment…

I´m thinking about a macchiato (cortado in Spain, exprés cortado in Mexico), so in a fraction of a second I figure, that being in the American continent, I’ll ask for a macchiato the Mexican way…

ME: ... y un exprés cortado.

CUBAN SERVER: con azúcar? (with sugar?)

At this point I cringe… I immediately remember the amount of sugar all of my Cuban friends put into anything they consume and I start feeling nauseous. Besides, this is getting strange, who in the world would offer a macchiato with sugar? Well, maybe Cubans.

ME: (Emphatically) NO! Sin azúcar por favor. (no sugar please)

CUBAN SERVER: (to the person in charge of preparing the coffee), ¡un exprés! (an espresso!)

ME: No, un exprés cortado (no, a macchiato)… and I go to explain, un exprés con un poco de leche por favor (an espresso with a bit of milk please).

And this is where it gets good…

CUBAN SERVER: (In a loud voice) ¡Parén el exprés, el cliente se ha equivocado y lo que quiere es un cortadito! (Stop the espresso, the client has messed up and what he really wants is “a cortadito”—i.e., a macchiato).

I’m perplexed, to say the least. Did this guy just scream across terminal D that the client messed up? So my marketing self (in a very polite and tempered manner) responds…

ME: Disculpa, no me equivoque, en mi país, un cortadito se llama exprés cortado (excuse me, in my country, macchiatos are called macchiatos)

CUBAN SERVER: Looks at me in disdain and doesn’t respond or apologizes.

I give my debit card to the cashier, she gives my receipt to sign, and then looks pissed at me because I leave no tip! Go figure…

I walk away thinking this is all kind of surreal. So I sit down to eat my delicious Cuban style guava and cheese empanda and take the lid off my coffee to drink my “cortadito”, to find out that in Cuba, a cortadito… is a freakin’ café con leche! (coffee with milk). Oh… and the coffee was burnt!