Where She Stops Nobody Knows

I was in Detroit again, Ann Arbor to be exact. At the end of a long day of sales calls my colleague Fred and I checked into the Candlewood Suites. It was my first time staying at this Holiday Inn property. A young man greeted us at the check-in counter ready to process our reservation. I couldn’t help noticing a prize wheel sitting on the counter to my right.
You know the type. You’ve seen them at carnivals. You put your money down and spin the wheel. Let’s say you placed your money on a stuffed animal, maybe a platypus. If the wheel stops on that prize you win. Of course at carnivals, the wheel has about 2,000 choices. Your odds of actually winning something are only slightly better than the likelihood you will be the next President of the United States.
At the Candlewood Suites in Ann Arbor the wheel only has ten choices, three once you boil it down. There are four chances to win a can of Coca~Cola, two chances to win $3.00 worth of snacks and two chances to win 1,000 Priority Club points. There are, as it turns out two other possibilities. I was so looking forward to trying my luck with the Candlewood Suites prize wheel. Who doesn’t like a little game of chance?
I quickly signed the registration sheet, got my room key, and then gave the wheel a spin. As it came to a stop that other possibility, one I didn’t really notice in my excitement, came into focus. It said, “Better Luck Next Time.” You might think I was chagrined beyond belief by my bad luck but I was actually quite happy with the result. Had I won the 1,000 point prize or even a can of Coke, I’m sure I wouldn’t have given the moment a second thought. Instead I was flabbergasted by the idea that someone in the Candlewood Suites organization, no doubt a marketing professional, thinks it’s a good idea to send some customers to their rooms feeling like losers.
I looked at the desk clerk who was obviously prepared to sympathize with me over my bad luck. I couldn’t help it. I was laughing. I said, “I’ve been on the road all day. I’m tired and I have never stayed at your hotel before. Do you really want to send me to my room cursing my bad luck? Are you trying to make me connect the Candlewood brand with feeling like a loser? Why don’t you go all the way? Instead of saying ‘Better Luck Next Time’ why not say ‘Drop Dead?’ Seriously, why not let me feel the full weight of your indifference?” He smiled back at me and shrugged. Marketing wasn’t his department.
Listen: I get it that the prize wheel is supposed to inject a little fun, even excitement in what is an otherwise mundane activity. But the hotel used it in a way that surely has unintended and certainly unwelcome side effects. I am sure that many if not most people would spin the wheel and laugh it off if they lost. What I can’t help wondering though is whether it’s worth the risk that some people might avoid the hotel next time they’re in town, simply because…“there is something about that place…I can’t put my finger on it, but I don’t like…” Instead of better luck next time I think the options should be a new Buick. I’m just saying.
I’ve experienced the prize wheel before by the way. Years ago not long after we were married, my wife and I were buying carpet. There was a sale going on. Big discounts were promised. Once you selected your carpet and padding you had to spin the wheel to see how big your discount would be. As I recall, discounts went from 3% to 12%. I spun and it landed on 9%, not bad. It wasn’t until later that it dawned on me that they were prepared to give us an additional 3% discount if the prize wheel landed on 12%. Why should I accept anything less? My colleague Fred who frequently stays at Holiday Inn property’s rightly insisted on the 1,000 point prize for that very reason. Why should he accept less? Alas, its years too late to make my case on the carpeting. Better luck next time I guess.

Copyright 2011 Len Serafino. All rights reserved.