So what... (a cautionary tale about communication)

The dramatic story of this post starts in the pretty medieval town of Dinan, Northern France. It's a bit of a tourist trap, but the place still has a little bit of magic.

Especially in the morning, when it's still fairly quiet, and the cool air is warmed by the delicious odour of fresh bread. The smell oozes through the tangle of cobbled streets like a charm, and soaks the pores of the half timbered houses as it has for many lifetimes.

However, this is merely background to the event.

Besides, by lunchtime you can hardly move for kids on school trips and English tourists looking for something, anything, to eat other than crepes. Times change.

Lovely place though.

But it's only the setting.

Ground zero was where we stayed. A tiny haven of tranquility. A little town house snuggled in a side street. There it is in the photo, the one with the green shutters.

It was an old house with crooked walls and aged wooden floors, whose boards gently rubbed together, giving a satisfying percussion to even the softest step. And water would patter soothingly down the spiral staircase, whenever my wife's auntie or uncle used the shower in their room.

But this was little cause for alarm. You see, we could call Dennis, the ex-pat key holder and handyman. After leaving only three messages, Dennis was round in a flash, a couple of days later.

From our amateur description of the event, he was immediately able to deduce that the shower was was leaking. He went on to advise us, with every fibre of sincerity and reassurance that he could muster, that there was no-one staying in the house the week after we left, so he would fix it then.

"So what do we do until then?"

Dennis had clearly not anticipated this question. A little crestfallen, he thought for a moment and decided that the second shower in our bathroom was probably working fine, so we could all share that one.

OK, obvious solution, but it was an afterthought. He was thinking about it all from his point of view:

1. Plumbing needs fixing.
   
2. The owner will want it fixed before the next guests arrive.
3. Need to leave quick (I wonder what's for tea?).
   

Pleased with the solution to his problem, Dennis had assumed that ours was much the same.

And yet we have all smelt the pooey end of this stick at some time or other. I'll bet even Dennis has sucked such a lemon in his lifetime.

This is when we become most aware that we are a "customer" - when something goes wrong. What an opportunity! Ironic isn't it.

In the grand scheme of things, ours wasn't much of a problem at all. But see how easy a drama of poor communication develops. And that's what gets remembered.

If only he had used the "so what?" rule. That is, if you think your audience is likely to say "so what?", your message might well be off target.

We had a lovely time though. If you get the chance you should go.