This Side of the Pond

I’ve always said that America has a service industry beyond compare. In fact, during all the time I have lived on this continent, I cannot remember a single experience that I would describe as less than stellar.

Perhaps this is because you guys are kinder and more pleasant than the rest of us, or perhaps it’s because those of you who deal with the public all day place higher expectations on yourselves. Maybe it’s something to do with the tipping culture, or it could be because, at least in Britain, our service industry workers just aren’t getting the practice they need.

In Britain, you see, we don’t like to complain. Rather than state our needs or demand the same level of value as every other customer, we stay quiet and just wait for the whole thing to be over.

We will bite our lip and tell the hairdresser that a mohawk was exactly what we had in mind, while telling ourselves it’ll grow out in a week or two. We will choke down a steak that’s been burned to a crisp and a potato that never met an oven while agreeing the chef did a lovely job, all in the name of never making a fuss.

I realized how deeply I had embraced American ways last time I went home, when a barista put too many shots of espresso in my mother’s cappuccino. Rather than watch her clamber across the ceiling on a caffeine high, I took the drink back to the counter and asked for a replacement. Simple, right?

I’d forgotten this wasn’t the thing to do, so I wasn’t expecting the barista to just…stop. He stared at me blankly for what felt like an hour, trying to compute this brand new experience.

It took time for him to settle on a reaction. He eventually decided that the best way forward would be a lengthy discussion on whose fault it was that the drink was made wrongly in the first place.

The error he made was in assuming things from the fact that my accent matched his own. Because he assumed the experience was also new for me, he failed to realize I was schooled in the ways of proper customer service and would not be backing down on my expectations. And yes, as you ask, my mum very much enjoyed her replacement cappuccino.

I tell this story as a prelude, because I am about to introduce you to my new favorite person. Much like the barista who didn’t want to replace my mum’s coffee, Alice Cheung is not a fan of customers who complain.

But unlike my argumentative friend, she reserves her ire for the kind of person who have no reason to be complaining in the first place. As you might imagine, they stick out like a sore thumb in Britain, where most customers adhere to the policy: “If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all.”

Cheung owns a Chinese restaurant in Leeds called Oriental Express, which has an overall rating on the “Just Eat” website of five stars out of six. You can assume that means it’s pretty good because, while the Brits are reluctant to complain, we’re also not going out of our way to say nice things about a chef who tried to poison us.

Cheung has only recently listed her restaurant on the website in an effort to keep up with the whims of technology. She appears sentimental about the old days of writing orders down on a notepad over the phone, but times do insist on moving along.

Soon after she signed up for the online ordering service, she noticed that some of the reviews being left were either unfair or flat-out untrue. Trolls were afoot, and this annoyed her.

So Cheung decided to stick up for herself. These days, she responds to fake reviews with the truth.

One reviewer, for example, complained she ordered a chicken dish but it came with prawns included. Cheung requested that she read the menu descriptions in future, because they clearly state there are prawns in the “Special Sweet and Sour.”

“You got what you ordered, so how is this our fault?” she wrote. “The food was fresh and perfectly cooked. We are good, but mind-reading the stupid is not one of our skills.”

Another left a bad review because the delivery driver was so rude she’d had to shut the front door in his face. Cheung replied with a verbal slap to the face, saying, “The driver tried to call you five times for directions but you refused to answer the phone. This resulted in ten minutes’ lost time and every delivery after yours to be delayed.” I assume the reviewer is still being hunted by the customers who were forced to eat cold egg rolls.

One reviewer complained her chicken wings weren’t cooked properly, prompting Cheung to reply: “Hi Joanne, please get in touch so we can arrange for you to come in and show us how to cook chicken wings properly.” To another reviewer who whined that there was no meat in her “Munch Box,” Cheung pointed out disdainfully that she’d ordered the vegetarian option.

Cheung is quick to point out that she’s more than happy to respond seriously to actual complaints, but she’s not going to put up with the trolls. Don’t be like “Dan,” in other words, or you’ll get a response like this one: “What sort of idiot orders ‘Salt & Pepper Chicken’ and then complains it has salt in it...Take your foul mouth and business somewhere else.”

I would like to nominate Alice Cheung as the patron saint of anyone who has ever had to deal with an unreasonable customer or has been asked to fetch the manager. We may not have the best track record in Britain when it comes to service with a smile, but we do have this one heroine, out there fighting the internet trolls on behalf of us all.