The names of everyone and everything except my wife and me are changed for obvious reasons!
As we’re driving out of the house to dine last evening, we realize that we have no dinner reservation in New York for the next night (tonight). We stop on the bridge, I use my Iphone to call via the car’s Bluetooth, and this drama ensues between us and over the speaker:
ME: Where should we go?
The Lovely Maria (TLM): What about that new restaurant owned by Tom Jones, whose kids went to school with ours? I think it’s on about 48th street. Remember, your driver told you to be sure to try it, since he also drives him down there all the time.
ME: Let’s see what Google says. (I plug in a misspelled name, Google says, “Is this what you really want, fool?” and I hit the phone number which accompanies some rave reviews.)
Restaurant Manager (RM): (Very haughty.) Yes?
ME: We’d like a reservation for tomorrow night, please, two people at six.
ME: Well, what can you do?
RM: Perhaps I can fit you in at 5:30.
ME: (I confer with TLM.) Well, okay.
RM: Very well, your name? (I tell him.) Your phone number? (I give him my cell number.)
RM: (Now a tad more friendly.) Is that a Rhode Island number?
RM: (Now friendly and cautious.) May I ask how it is you’ve heard of us?
ME: Sure. One of your owners is Tom Jones, and his kids went to school with our kids, and we have the same limo driver. He’s also opening, as you probably know, another restaurant up here.
RM: (Now bowing and gracious.) Why didn’t you say so to begin with? We are happy to have the two of you at six tomorrow!
ME: I think that was 5:30, right?
RM: NO, no, you wished for 6 and that is fine. We will see you tomorrow. My name is Alfonso if you need anything further!
ME: Thank you, ah, Alfonso.
TLM: (Rolls eyes.)
ME: (Put car in gear and head to dinner and martini, laughing loudly.)
We all need to turn cold calls into warmer encounters.
© Alan Weiss 2009. All rights reserved.