Service recovery is one of the most powerful tools a company has – and one of the most consistently wasted.
I recently traveled to Reno, Nevada, for a keynote speech. I stayed at a high-end resort and casino, and had upgraded to a suite so I could stay an extra day and have a place to record my new online course.
After checking in, I went up to my suite, unpacked, and headed downstairs to spend a few hours in the casino. When I came back to my room, I immediately knew something was wrong.
The door was ajar. And I knew I had closed it.
I cautiously entered and saw the damage right away. The doorjamb had been jimmied. There were paint chips missing. Someone had definitely broken in.
My luggage was still there. But my backpack was gone.
Now, this wasn’t just any backpack. My entire professional life was inside it. Laptop. iPad. AirPods. HDMI cables and connectors for presentations. House keys. Car keys. Everything I rely on to run my business.
Gone.
I stood there for a second, trying to process it. Then I went downstairs.
The First Interaction Is The Most Critical
I flagged down a security guard in the casino, who took me to the security desk to collect information about the stolen items. He asked all the right questions. He asked none of the human ones. Not once did he ask if I was okay.
He came up to my suite to take pictures, and later he told me they had identified two suspects on camera and located their car. But that was all I was told.
I asked if I could switch rooms. I didn’t exactly feel comfortable sleeping in a room that had just been broken into. He told me I’d need to speak with the front desk.
So I did.
The front desk told me they were sold out. There was nothing they could do. No apology. No “let me get a manager.” No acknowledgment that I had just had my room broken into.
So I went back upstairs and slept in that same room, with one eye open.
At 6 a.m., I was woken up by a different security guard who said he was speaking with the police and needed the estimated value of the stolen items. I provided it. I never heard anything further from him.
Later that morning, I returned to the security desk for an update. This time, the guard I encountered was even less empathetic. He told me he couldn’t share any information because he could only release details to the police.
When I asked if that meant he wasn’t going to help me recover my items, he said he couldn’t tell me.
Not exactly reassuring.
The One Sentence That Explained Everything
At this point, I went to the front desk and asked for the hotel manager.
When she came out, I explained the whole situation. I told her that not one person from the hotel had proactively reached out to ask if I was okay. No one had apologized. No one had offered to change my room, buy me a drink, comp dinner, provide a casino credit, or pretty much anything. No one had reached out at all.
That’s when she said something that stopped me in my tracks.
The front desk and the security department don’t talk to each other.
Let that sink in.
The department handling guest stays and the department handling guest safety operate in complete silos. And when departments don’t talk, any chance at meaningful service recovery disappears before it even starts.
She was the first person to show any empathy, both apologizing and switching my room. But there was no additional gesture of goodwill.
Eventually, I connected with the head of security. He helped me file a police report and told me the Reno Police Department would contact me within an hour of receiving it.
It’s been over a month. I’m still waiting for that call.
Here’s the part that still gets me. Because an iPad was stolen, I was able to track it in real time using Apple’s Find My app. I knew exactly where it was (another casino, in fact). I shared that information with both the hotel and the police.
Neither one acted on it.
The only follow-up I received from the hotel was a letter from their insurance company asking me to complete another form. They informed me that claims are reviewed on a 60-day cycle. So as of today, I still don’t know whether I’ll be reimbursed for the roughly $3,500 worth of stolen items.
And yes, they did send a post-stay survey. You can imagine how that went.
From now on, I will always use the hotel safe. Every time. Though I’ll note that “use the safe” is not a substitute for “hope no one jimmies the door.”
Here’s the part that sticks with me most. This was a scary, violating experience. It was the first time I had ever had a hotel room broken into. But the lack of urgency, empathy, and coordination from the staff suggests something else entirely: this probably happens a lot. And when something becomes routine for the organization, it is never routine for the customer.
That’s where the lessons come in.
Service Recovery Lesson 1: When Departments Don’t Talk, Guests Pay the Price
Effective service recovery requires the whole organization to move together. Your guest who just experienced a traumatic event doesn’t care which department handles which responsibility. She just wants someone to act like a human being.
If one team knows about a traumatic event involving a guest, every relevant team should know immediately. The failure to communicate isn’t just an operational inconvenience. It becomes the entire experience.
Related: 7 Simple Ways To Create A Luxury Customer Experience
Service Recovery Lesson 2: “Are You Okay?” Costs Nothing
Hotel and casino security teams see it all – accidents, medical emergencies, overserved guests, crimes, and more. Over time, that exposure can desensitize even good people. That break-in was the most frightening experience I had ever had in a hotel room. To the security team, it was just a Sunday night.
Empathy training for frontline and security staff isn’t a “nice to have.” It’s essential. The simplest service recovery gesture – a genuine “Are you okay?” – would have gone a long way.
Service Recovery Lesson 3: Be Proactive
No one reached out first. No one offered a gesture of goodwill. No one took ownership.
In moments of failure, companies have an opportunity to create loyalty through proactive recovery. Change the room. Buy the guest a drink. Cover dinner. Provide a future stay credit. Demonstrate that you care.
Yes, proactive service recovery would have cost some money (though most places have a lot of discretion). But the cost of losing a guest forever – not to mention one who speaks to thousands of business professionals every year and now tells this story in his newsletter – well, let’s just say it’s significantly more.
Service Recovery Lesson 4: You’re Not Selling Beds. You’re Selling Safety.
Hotels don’t just sell beds. They sell safety, comfort, and peace of mind. When we stay at a hotel, we don’t want to have to worry about whether it’s safe.
And when safety fails, the service recovery must be exceptional. This wasn’t.
How do you make your customers feel safe?
The Real Cost of Getting Service Recovery Wrong
Luckily, while my backpack and its contents were stolen, everything was replaceable. No one was hurt. But what was really stolen was my feeling of security and my trust in this resort. That isn’t recoverable.
So here’s the question worth asking your team: When something goes wrong for your customer, do your departments rally together? Or retreat into silos?
Because your customer doesn’t care how your org chart is structured. They care how you make them feel. And in moments of crisis, that feeling is everything. Great service recovery isn’t just about fixing the problem. It’s about restoring the trust.
Dan Gingiss is a top customer experience keynote speaker and strategist who works with corporations, associations, and franchises to create remarkable customer experiences at scale. His engaging keynotes, hands-on workshops, and proven WISER™ methodology help organizations drive customer loyalty and business growth.
Image by Steffen Salow from Pixabay.
