It's Not Always A Pleasure To Help You

I am now back in San Francisco after a return to old Blighty, finishing off unfinished business. The American move is more real than ever since there is no longer the comfort of a return to sanity, pleasingly warm beer and my wonderful friends, looming comfortably on the horizon. Now, as far as the metaphorical eye can see, lie the vast open plains of Getting Settled in America.

My return to the Mother Country did give me time to reflect on initial life here and gauge just how American I had become in a mere six weeks. Let me reassure all that know me now though, that I do not intend to naturalise to the American way. There will be no assimilation, no upspeak, no "rad" no flagrant use of the word "awesome" and I hope no significant gain in weight. Though the latter is not a promise, food here is very, very hard to resist, especially when "getting to know people" can always be relied upon as a firm excuse to eat out. 

Yet, despite being proud to have been often labeled "the most British person" I  had only just arrived into London from Heathrow when I found myself queuing in a pizza restaurant, fantastically and vocally irritated by the staff's deliberate attempts at ignoring waiting customers.  While my tolerant companion apologetically excused the busy restaurant's poor service, I quizzed others in the queue  to  find out if they had also be stoically ignored too. I am ashamed to admit that in less than four hours from landing in the UK I had used the cringeworthy phrase, "This would never happen in America" and I fear this may not have been the only time. Oh how the worm, only gently tickled in the middle, turns. Send me to The Tower now, your majesty, I am a traitor. 

Great Britain, the UK, England is renowned for poor customer service and like all stereotypes there lies an element of truth but it is by no means a trait isolated to the British Isles. Take for example the French, more specifically the Parisians. So shocked are the Japanese at the near genocidal rudeness of the not so chic Gauls, the recognised psychological disorder "Paris Syndrome" means that unfortunate tourists have to be repatriated by their embassy for fear of lasting damage. There really is a specific department in the Japanese Embassy established to save these poor souls and return them home where service is not delivered on the sharp end of a machete.

Getting back to GB, I flew on United Airlines, the sweet luxurious happiness of BA First Class no longer an option for me.  Now before I compare the two let me offer an apology because my First Class travel post had a small twist of truth. A white lie so white it was translucent yet, for one sharp superb individual, yes Lucy I mean you, this bending of truth should have never been. So, never again will this blog bend a timeline or mislead in anyway. My crime was simply to blur one trip with another to save on time but, having been pulled up by my friend on this, I resolve never to repeat the offence.

70's service epitomised by Basil Fawlty, lovingly recreated by American Airlines

United has an interesting offering sitting somewhere between budget carrier and standard airline. If there is an opportunity to charge, in true Michael O'Leary style, United for the most part, will. Want a glass of wine on your transatlantic flight, that'll be $7. Want a meal resembling any recognisable food substance, pre-book online please and pay $20. The best part though, the marketing blurb actually says "Want some personal space...?" then goes onto explaining how paying an extra $100 per trip will offer legroom approaching a standard acceptable to Frodo and his mates.

Having experienced so much luxury on BA it should not be hard to understand how this return to the back of the plane and,  let's be honest, the only place I really belong or can at least afford, caused considerable concern. Yet though the experience was of course considerably less comfortable than my previous flights to and from San Francisco,  it was not as bad as I feared.

United bases many of its crews in its destination cities so my UK to US flights have always had a British crew who have been friendly and, though not so eager to please as BA, certainly in no way as disdainful of their customers as American Airlines staff.  United seemed to me a logical comparison between the UK's stereotypical service and the the US.

Of course, I am not comparing like for like here but my fear of no free booze has not yet been realised for on every United flight, I have been offered at least one complimentary drink. Whether this is down to my excessive British politeness, good looks or most likely the crews' unwillingness to fetch a credit card machine I couldn't say, but at least one free G&T has been offered on everyone one of the four United international flights I've taken. That's enough to retain my business. Yes, I am cheap.

You can bet the first swine on the plane to fully recline his seat will be sitting in front of me

A full flight in cramped steerage is never a pleasant experience yet weirdly I am starting to think that getting drunk is not the best way to cope. The airlines' tightfisted reticence may be going almost as far to improve my liver's well being as it does their balance sheets. Notice I used the word "steerage" expect it to come back into the common vernacular soon. The divide between service in first versus standard mimics the ever growing divide between classes in society and the difference in experience gets ever more comparable to the levels of travel offered on Titanic back in the Gilded Age.  One marked difference between now and 1912 though, should we end up unexpectedly dumped in the waters of the Atlantic, no one's getting home, regardless of how much has been paid. There'd be no weasingly out of the right thing to do for Micheal O'Leary, the Bruce Ismay of our time.

So I have decided, there's rubbish service everywhere. In the US good service is expected so that bad service stings, whereas in the UK, poor service is at the back of everyone's mind so when it's good it soothes and shines.

Perhaps I'll see you on a United flight one day. I'll be the man making little fuss but working hard on scoring another free gin. I remain, forever English yet what an Englishman really wants from customer service is a greeting, eye contact and a sincere smile.