Is your customer service a black comedy?

The Aberdeen Hotel lesson every business should learn.

"Bad service makes good comedy. But it ruins businesses.” — Patrick at Magnitude

The Big Trip

Our Liam and his girlfriend Sandy had flown all the way from New Zealand. When you come that far, you don’t do it often, so you pack a lot in.

The plan was simple enough:

• A few days in London.

• A visit to Aberdeen to look up some of Sandy’s relatives.

• Meander south with a stop in the Lake District.

• Finally, on to Stoke-on-Trent to see our family.

A proper UK tour.

But as ever, the British weather had other ideas.

Enter Storm Floris

Storm Floris barrelled in, tearing up timetables and cutting short their London stay. They had to grab the last train north before cancellations set in.

Their luggage? Still somewhere between Dubai and common sense.
Their waterproof coats? Also in Dubai. Because nothing says irony like waterproofs in a desert country.

By the time they stumbled through Aberdeen city centre, they looked like drowned rats who’d just lost a fight with a canal.

The Aberdeen Masterclass

Most hotels would’ve said:

“Check-in isn’t until 3pm. You can sit in the lobby if you like.”

Not this one.

• Straight into the kitchen.

• Hot soup on the table.

• Towels and dry robes.

• Wet clothes whisked away to be dried.

• And to top it off: a free upgrade.

“Hot soup and a dry robe cost pennies. The goodwill is priceless.” — Patrick at Magnitude

What could’ve been the low point of their trip became the story they still talk about today.

The Lake District Let-Down

Heading south, they stopped in the Lake District — a £200-a-night “treat.”

It was anything but.

• Food: pub grub pretending to be posh.

• Atmosphere: noisy, crowded, chaotic.

• Service: indifferent.

Not once did a member of staff ask, “How’s your stay? Anything we can do?”

Our Liam reckons the reason was simple: the staff could see from their faces that they weren’t happy. But instead of stepping in, they stayed silent.

And that silence cost them.

“One hotel made them feel special. The other made them feel invisible.” — Patrick at Magnitude

The £200-a-Night Lesson

Aberdeen: £100 room + kindness = raving fans.
Lake District: £200 room + apathy = guests warning others away.

Which would you rather have representing your business?

What This Means for Business Owners

The Aberdeen hotel didn’t follow a script, they followed instinct:

• Hot soup when you’re cold.

• Dry clothes when yours are dripping.

• Straight answers when things go wrong.

The Lake District hotel had every advantage — but missed the only one that matters: treating people like humans.

The PMMFS Rule

Here’s my take: every customer has an invisible sticker on their forehead.

PMMFS — Please Make Me Feel Special.

That’s it. That’s the whole job.

Do that, and people will remember you long after they’ve forgotten the bill.

“I run Magnitude for humans — not for spreadsheets.” — Patrick at Magnitude

The Exploration Bit

Here’s the bigger lesson: storms don’t just happen on railways.

In business, plans get wrecked, customers arrive in a mess, things go sideways.
At that point, you’ve got a choice: stick to the script, or step up.

Aberdeen stepped up. The Lakes stuck to the script — even when it was written all over their guests’ faces. That’s why one is still being talked about, and the other is being avoided.

The Real Lesson

When I met Our Liam later in Stoke-on-Trent, guess what he and Sandy wanted to talk about?

Not Big Ben. Not the fancy Lake District hotel.
They talked about the Aberdeen place.

And when I tell others about their trip? I talk about the same thing.
Because that’s what sticks.

“People don’t buy rooms. They buy how you made them feel.” — Patrick at Magnitude

Why This Matters for Magnitude

That Aberdeen hotel didn’t see “two transactions.” They saw two soaked humans who needed looking after.

That’s how I try to run Magnitude Coaching.
Not for numbers on a spreadsheet. Not for some corporate “customer journey map.”

For humans.

When someone chooses to work with me, I don’t see “a client.” I see someone who wants to build something meaningful, who deserves straight answers, no-nonsense support, and a bit of PMMFS.

Because just like Aberdeen proved, people remember how you made them feel long after they’ve forgotten the price.