The banquet manager

1993. There's a very big conference taking place in our banquet halls. Lots of signage. Lots of names and directions stuck onto doors. Tremendous numbers of people walking in and out. I am running about trying to meet demands as I am the senior supervisor on duty. Otherwise, the in-charge of the day. The Banquets manager is sitting at a table in the middle of all the melee. Talking into a phone. I can see him from the distance where I am organizing the pick up of food for the lunch. He's smart. Black suit and a red tie. Over six feet in height. Fair. Hair done in the latest back brushed style of the day. Kind of Sanjay Dutt meets Amitabh Bachchan in looks. He used to have difficulty keeping the legs inside the desk and so while talking on the phone, he used to tilt his chair to the right and stretch his legs and talk away. Languid grace. That's the phrase that comes to mind. And he could talk. Right phrases. Right nuances. Essential salesman all day. Women used to just stop and gawk at him for a bit when they saw him on the banquet floor. So, now he's talking on the phone and out comes a harried guest. You have to know a harried Indian hotel guest. He has no preamble. He will never tell you where he has come from, what's his work or requirements, he will just start complaining about something that he, only he is involved in and barely anyone knows that he is the guy involved in that. He shouts, "the mikes given to us aren't working and no one is doing anything about it. This is unscrupulous and nonsense." Here, you have to know that when a Bengali gentleman shouts he tends to use big words. I think they teach that in those state schools. He goes on for a bit. Our manager is unfazed. He does not even get up from his seat. He simply listens. The guest finishes, pipes down and let's out a breath. Our manager gives him his glass of water. Just pushes the glass towards him. He scowls but takes the water and drinks it. Then, our manager says, "It's a machine, it's tested but it's not ruled by men, can go wrong anytime. We will simple replace. Don't you worry." Before the man pipes up again our manager seizes the moment, "That tie, where did you get that magnificent tie? I love ties but I never got anything like that anywhere." The guest is wearing an obnoxious violet based flouroscent kind of tie with some weird geometric designs in it. The guest looks down at his own tie as if seeing it for the first time. He mumbles something about New Market. Our manager now gets up. He puts his arm around the man's shoulder. Now, picture a tall good looking man with a small obtuse ordinary man. Walking back towards the convention hall entrance companionably. Of course, there was no more trouble with the mikes. Nothing was replaced. An ego was massaged. That was that. That was an instant lesson in positive communication that day. And look what we have to put up with as our leaders these days. A guy rolling up his sleeves constantly and another beating his chest constantly.