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The ‘GM Gene’

The ?GM Gene?

Ahhhhh, vacation. At least that is what I thought as I walked out the door of The Benjamin and was Mexico-bound for a week with my family. I am actually here now. I know what you are thinking — turn off the BlackBerry, shut off the phone. It wasn’t that; my team had my hotel under control. The problem was mine, a condition I have. It’s called the “GM Gene.”
  
Some of you reading this might suffer from the same condition and have not yet been diagnosed. It’s when you walk into a hotel and can’t turn off your super-hyper attention to every last detail. You are walking around as if you are the GM of this hotel, yet no one but you knows it. You are timing how long you wait in line at check-in. Are the nametags on straight? Did they call you by name? You even bend down and pick up a wrapper in the hallway that someone else stepped over. I actually held the door open on the elevator and asked another guest of the hotel if they are enjoying their stay! Their response was, “Why, aren’t you?” I have even asked guests how they heard about the hotel when making conversation in passing.  

My wife and family think I am crazy (likely for reasons that go beyond this), but when I go to any hotel the GM Gene kicks in. Luckily for me I am at a resort where customer satisfaction is paramount. I am going to try and put blinders on to the guest service and operations happening around me and focus on the beach … as I help someone carry a lounge chair closer to the water, offer them a towel and take their drink order.

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