MARKETING: A letter (hopefully) never sent
by Dennis Conrad
May 11, 2011
To whom it may
concern:
I regret to
inform you that after many years of providing my services (and money) as a
casino customer at your establishment, I am quitting, effective
immediately.
It was a very difficult
decision to make, as I have enjoyed my tenure at your establishment and have
several close relationships with your employees. Some of your dice dealers are
among the best I’ve seen in my 35 year career of shooting craps and one of your
pit managers is one of the most exceptional and customer focused casino
executives I have encountered in my job as a player.
While your casino may never have felt like home to me, it does have a
comfortable, familiar feel and the gaming value you provide gives me a good
sense that I am getting a fair shake and a good gamble, certainly better than
your competitors. Your generous odds on the craps table and your liberal video
poker pay schedules have spoken directly to the main reason I have plied my
craft as a casino customer for so many years at your
business.
That’s why it is so hard for
me to inform you that I am quitting.
I suppose I should tell you
why I am resigning. You’d probably expect it to be some big thing, some major
misunderstanding or a nasty incident with an employee having a bad day. No,
it’s nothing like that (although I should tell you that one of your cashiers is
probably the most consistently unhappy individual I have ever dealt with at a
casino).
No, the reason I am quitting my job as your casino customer is that,
after ignoring it for a long time, I have come to the unsettling but
inescapable conclusion that you don’t care about me and my job as your
customer. If you did, I think many of my experiences at your casino would be
very different, focused on my needs more than yours.
For instance, when I come up
to your craps table, I don’t need any fanfare or great welcoming scene; after
all, I’ve probably come up to your craps table hundreds of times over the
years. But what astonishes me is the number of times that I am never
greeted--where a dice floorperson I may not know never bothers to introduce him
or herself and focuses only on “how much I am in,” or the amount of chips I
have bought for cash. It makes me feel like a statistic instead of a loyal
player.
But what upsets me the most at your casino is how you sweat the money
with certain dice player behaviors. I can’t believe there are still casinos
that change the dice after a lucky run for the players. (Shouldn’t you be
celebrating their good fortune?) I can’t believe the militant glee your dice
staff sometimes takes in scolding offending dice players (some of them being
impressionable “newbies”) who short roll the dice, take the dice off the table
or make late or incorrect bets. Yes, I know that you are “in charge” of the
game, but I think you forget that I am in charge of where I choose to spend my
dice playing dollars.
If you really cared about my
experience at your casino, I also don’t think you’d make me wait so long at
your cashier’s cage to transact my business. Do you have to cash so many
payroll checks with such time consuming procedures, while I’m waiting with
simpler transactions? Do your employees and customers have to use the same
cashier windows? Can’t you have more windows open at busy
times?
And while I like your video
poker games and the several video poker bars where I can watch TV sports while
I play, why would you combine that great experience with cheap bar drinks that
attract drinkers who rarely gamble? I guess you don’t care that often I can’t
find a video poker seat where I can spend my money with
you.
The other reasons I am
resigning as your customer probably seem minor to you, but when you add them to
everything else, they’re probably the tipping point for me. You have too few
ATM machines that are out of service too often. While your restrooms are
typically and impressively clean, they are terribly inconvenient to get to. And
while your parking is plentiful and pretty convenient, I’d have thought that
someone would have offered me a VIP parking pass by now.
So yes, it is with great
regret that I am resigning my job as your casino customer. And don’t get me
wrong, I don’t think I am a difficult customer. I just know what I find
important when I visit you. I’m sorry you don’t see it the same, because I’d
happily keep losing my money at your casino for many more years if you did.
Dennis Conrad
Dennis Conrad is the president and chief Relationship Officer of Raving Consulting Company, a full service marketing company specializing in assisting gaming organizations. He can be reached at (775) 329-7864. Visit Raving’s Web site at www.ravingconsulting.com.
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