Turn Down for What?

I recently returned from a trip to Toronto, where I attended a quarterly coaching session for entrepreneurs. I had been part of this group for the past four years, and I would fly to Toronto every quarter to attend in person. Then the pandemic hit, and we went virtual for two years. Sure, being on Zoom has been easier, more convenient, a time-saver, and avoids the risks and potential inconveniences of international travel. 

But nothing compares to being there in person.

When I arrived on Sunday, I checked into my hotel. I always stay at the Ritz Carlton. I am aware that it is a total splurge to do this. The place is beautiful and modern and features the most spectacular fresh floral displays at the entrance. 

In the lobby, I am greeted warmly by every worker I pass by. When I approach the reception desk, I am welcomed to the hotel by a friendly man with a perfect French accent. He asks if I’d like a bottle of water. I answer yes. He further inquires if I want it chilled or room temperature. I confirm chilled.

I can see behind the desk that there is a refrigerator filled with cold bottles of water, as well as a basket filled with the same bottles but room temp. The man removes a bottle from the fridge, walks out from behind his desk, and comes over to hand it to me personally. 

Their service is thoughtful and impeccable. Always.

When I get to my room, it’s only 2:00 p.m., and dinner with my friends isn’t until 6:00 p.m. One of my favorite hotel luxuries is room service. I pick up the phone and order a tuna poke bowl, one of their signature dishes. The woman who answers my call tells me that my lunch will arrive within twenty to twenty-five minutes. I look at my watch and note the time. 

Exactly twenty-one minutes later, there’s a knock at my door. A man delivers a tray carrying the most beautiful poke bowl I’ve ever seen. And next to it is a tiny ceramic pot with a purple orchid. When the man exits my room, I feel compelled to touch a leaf. 

It’s real. 

The attention to detail at this hotel makes me feel so welcome. It’s like a homecoming of comfort and luxury and familiarity. After two years of being away, I am so pleased that my hotel experience is exactly like I remembered (and hoped) it would still be.

My friends and I meet up a few hours later for dinner. We have a terrific time catching up and reconnecting, and we agree that we’ve been on Zoom for far too long.

I walk back to my hotel, and as the bellman opens the door for me, I’m greeted by the most divine smell. I cannot pinpoint the exact ingredients it consists of, but I can tell you that it’s definitely the scent of a superior hotel. Again, I am filled with a feeling of coziness and comfort, like being home. (To be clear, my home doesn’t smell like this—that would be amazing. But if you know where I can buy the Ritz Carlton scent, please call me.)

When I return to my room, I hear spa-like music playing. It’s coming from the television. All my lights are dimmed. The curtains are drawn for the night, and my bed is turned down. There is a fresh bottle of water on the nightstand and a simple square of dark chocolate wrapped in gold foil next to it.

Turn-down service. 

This is the one thing I appreciate even more than room service. Very few hotels do this anymore. For the record, it’s completely unnecessary, totally luxurious.

And I absolutely love it. 

I find myself smiling, alone in my tranquil and dim room, wondering what it is about this that makes me so happy.

To me, turn-down service evokes that feeling of being tucked into bed as a child by a parent. It’s as if someone wants to make certain every detail is being prepared for my slumber, that I feel safe and comfy under my covers, and that my nightlight is adjusted just right. Do you know that feeling? 

That, for me, is turn-down service. 

I have been reflecting on this luxury hotel experience over the past several weeks since my return from Toronto. It has inspired me to also increase my awareness of customer service details. 

For example, at our office, I always want to be sure we have thoughtful amenities for clients who are coming to meet me in person. That means offering great tea and coffee choices, providing almond milk in addition to half-and-half, leaving chocolate treats in little bowls upstairs and down, as well as a collection of healthy Kind Bars and packets of cashews if anyone needs a snack during our meeting. 

We also keep a tray on the conference room table with paper, nice pens, colorful Post-its and highlighters, and always extra reading glasses.

You might be asking yourself, Do these details really matter?

Last week, a new client came in and commented on how much she loved our pens. I put five more on the table. She happily tucked them all into her purse to take them home. 

The details matter. 

But the thing is, we never know which details and to whom—so we must assume that they all matter and tend to our people with this as a priority. 

The best financial advisors give their clients “Ritz-Carlton-like” experiences. And I do not mean that you need to provide pricey amenities. I mean that in working with you, your clients immediately feel a sense of warmth and safety and comfort because of the details you’ve thought of and because of the experience you have curated for them.

Maybe it’s the personal note you send in the mail acknowledging that your client’s last child is off to college, and you know the empty-nester adjustment can be difficult. 

Maybe it’s the time you pause on a Zoom call to notice the photographs hanging on your client’s wall—giraffes and zebras—and she smiles and takes the next five minutes to reminisce about her trip to Africa and the life-changing safari she got to experience with her husband before he passed away.

These simple details matter. They demonstrate that you are listening, that you are paying attention. 

What are you doing each day to ensure that the people around you feel special and cared for? 

Did your mom ever put a little love note in your lunchbox as a kid? What if you left one on the kitchen counter for your spouse, a simple note of encouragement to kickstart his or her week?

When was the last time you Venmo-ed your assistant over the weekend with the message that dinner for her and her husband was on you?

What could you do to demonstrate to your colleagues, your spouse—heck, even your mom—how much you care?

Turn-down service: It is completely unnecessary, totally luxurious, and feels wonderful. 

Who doesn’t want a little of that every once in a while? Why don’t you be the one to make it happen for someone?