Wednesday, February 1, 2012

A class act

I know I told you readers about my going to the Sister Hazel show at HOB in December.
The part I left out?
That's today's story.

I always "rent" a bar stool at HOB concerts these days.  The shows are too long for me to be standing. For the Sister Hazel show, I ended up with the best bar stool in the house (or so I thought). I was seat A, stage right. So, like the first seat right next to the stage. I was ecstatic.
Until
During the lull between opening act 1 and opening act 2, the people who had the two bar stools next to me showed up.
Sure, they were clearly white trash, but I don't let that kind of stuff bother me.
What bothered me, then?
When WT lady said (at the top of her lungs):
"OH MY GOD!! IT'S SO UNFAIR!!! I HAVE TO SIT NEXT TO THE FAT CHICK!!!"
Readers, I am not thin, but I know for damn sure that my ass fits wholly and securely on my own damn bar stool. I don't take up any more space than anyone else, really.
The entire evening the ugly comments continued.  I heard then, my friends heard them, complete strangers heard them, the bartender heard them (and gave me a free beer) - you get the point.

I know what you're thinking - 'Why, Von, being the bad ass that you are, that you didn't take care of business?!?!?'
Because
If I had verbally sparred with her, I would have won and likely been kicked out of the show in the process. If I had physically sparred with her and her husband, I would have one, and absolutely been kicked out.
I paid $86 to see my favorite band live, who I hadn't seen in over a year, I was NOT getting kicked out.
So, the vitriol continued, until mid Sister Hazel when they were too drunk to keep their heads up so they left. Of course a parting shot:
"YOU CAN HAVE OUR SEATS, IF YOU THINK YOU CAN FIT THERE!!!"
The couple she offered her seats to declined, and I'm pretty sure the wife called her a bitch.
And the rest of the night continued.
I was no worse for the wear - trust me, I have the confidence of a super model.

What stayed with me was just the awfulness of it.  I was mad - more mad that I couldn't do anything about it, and mad that it happened there, in a happy chill place.

So, I sent the greatest email of my entire life to customer services at the HOB.
I mean, the greatest.  The subject line was The Good, the Bad and the Ugly.  First, I complimented the staff I talked to that night, because everyone was amazing. I thanked them for having the bar stool option. Then, I launched in to "the incident".  I spent a good part of the email explaining that I know with my whole heart that HOB was NOT to blame, I just wanted to make them aware.

Two days later - I receive a phone call from E, who is the executive assistant to the GM.  We had a long talk about the incident.  She won me over when she said "I'm sorry, but I can't believe you didn't punch her in the face"
She told me that the next time I visit the HOB, I should let her know so we can meet.

Monday night, I met one of my sisters there for dinner.  I had called E and let her know we would be there.
Walk in - give name- host says "Oh! Von! There you are! You're a friend of E's!"
 We had a fantastic meal, with a complimentary dessert provided by E.  She came and sat with us for a good 20 minutes and we talked.   She's a very sweet, down to earth, professional chick. 
As she was leaving, she let me know that I should call her every time I'm going to be at the HOB. She also said that she had my number, and that she'd be calling me too.

Now - there you have it.  The whole thing - 100% of it, House of Blues was NOT to blame.  The security guard, the bartenders, everyone was wonderful.  They cannot control who visits their establishment. 
But the way they are treating me - like this is a big deal to them, and they are so not happy that it happened there, and that they want to make sure I am happy and a returning customer - they are 100% a class act.  I will absolutely continue to spend my money there.  I will absolutely not start fights with any horrible people there. Well, not inside, anyway.

8 comments:

Michael said...

Wow, that's very cool of House of Blues. Maybe they should change their name to House of Exceptional Customer Service and/or Blues.

ifthethunderdontgetya™³²®© said...

Sorry to hear about assholes raining on your wonderful concert parade, Von.

And good on the H.o.B. for caring for you.
~

zombie rotten mcdonald said...

Put it up on Facebook. And write a letter to the Reader, too. Put the whole story out there so that there is the greatest chance Ugly Chick gets to see it.

Big Bad Bald Bastard said...

Some people just need to get their asses kicked. I commend you and the House of Blues for good behavior.

Jennifer said...

Put it up on Facebook. And write a letter to the Reader, too. Put the whole story out there so that there is the greatest chance Ugly Chick gets to see it.

Yeah!

And good for HoB.

Also, good for Von for not ripping the stupid woman's head off.

mikey said...

Barfights used to be a lot more fun than they are today.

You just never know anymore a.) who has a gun and b.) how stupid willing they are to kill people over silly horseshit.

My recommendation is to give up the barfighting altogether. I certainly have. Used to be everybody got some bruises, maybe a broken bone or a bent nose and that was fine, whatcha get for fighting in bars. Now, anybody might kill you over...well, nothing. It's one thing to get bruised up and hurt for a week for nothing, but when people are dying over insults and farts and shit, well, give it up sez I....

blue girl said...

Von, that is wonderful the way the people at HOB responded. I'm so glad that they are decent people.

On the flip side, I a speechless that that happened to you. I am without speech.

Sonia said...

Ick, ick, ick. Kudos to you because I don't think I would have handled it as well.

What amazes me is that, with -- what -- 50% of Americans being over-weight, there are people who still act like every, single fat person is the first one they've ever scene. Like we're some kind of rarity. Well, maybe the white trash don't get out of their trailer very often.