Ice cream sundaes and the art of customer satisfaction.
It’s college application and essay time. This was written by my niece Erin Colonnese, on the art of customer satisfaction:
It wasn’t until my fellow co-workers told me that I “should be charging six-hundred dollars for a sundae” that I realized a little bit more about myself. For the two and a half years that I have been working at Dairy Queen, I have always been told that I pile on the nuts as high as the sky, or that the caramel shouldn’t be drowning the ice-cream. It’s not that these extra efforts are a problem; it’s that my co-workers think I am too generous with the amount of ingredients I provide per sundae. I always take my time making them, putting the few extra peanuts, the second dab of whipped cream, and not just one cherry but two. By putting the time and effort into each delight, I receive a sense of fulfillment doing my job. The joy in making each sundae gives the customers the satisfaction that I want them to receive from my unique concoction.
The smiles and happiness that I obtain from customers when I place each piled-high masterpiece on the counter is my motivation to continue. My efforts to make every sundae valued at six-hundred dollars were appreciated when a man came back up to me and handed me a five dollar bill. He complimented me for my efforts and said that his sundae was the best sundae that he had ever eaten. Bursting with energy and confidence I was satisfied with myself that I had made someone else happy with the valuable efforts I had put forth. I had five more dollars to put into my gas tank but my efforts as to how I made that sundae hadn’t changed. Did I put more nuts than I usually would? Was there more hot fudge drowning the ice-cream than normal? I gathered my thoughts and retraced my steps crafted into this indulgence. Each sundae I had made before this valued sundae, I had made the exact same way. No matter what type of sundae I made, whether hot fudge, strawberry or caramel, I made it how I would want to have my sundae made, lots of toppings and little extra effort into the process of making it. Everyday after this, I made sundaes the same way that I had done so previously. When making them, I always tried to figure out what I did differently with that one “five dollar deserving” sundae.
After many, many attempts, I just figured that maybe the five dollar sundae man was appreciative of my creation. There was no secret recipe or secret ingredient that was included. Maybe the man just liked the ratio of ice-cream to topping, or liked the fact that there was a little extra put into the process than my co-workers would have done. I apply this “little extra” ideology throughout all experiences that I am faced with whether it’s making sundaes at Dairy Queen, putting the extra effort into my school work or spending time with family and friends.
The man that appreciated the little extra nuts or the little extra fudge gave me insight into discovering just a small part of who I am as a person. The process of gathering the components to make a sundae and putting in the extra efforts to make each customer satisfied gives me the joy in making ice cream for each individual that crosses my path. With a little extra practice comes a little more success. With a little more effort comes a little more gain. With a little extra learning comes a little more value. My “six-hundred dollar” sundae was instrumental in giving me information about myself. I apply a little extra to everything.