This past weekend, while en route to Wynn Las Vegas, to attend the annual Flair for Care luncheon/fashion show, benefiting Nathan Adelson Hospice; I had the bright idea to get some coffee.  Sure enough, my iced mocha dripped on my crisp white shirt – and not in a place where it could be hidden (unless I was willing to unbutton my shirt to my naval, and I certainly wasn’t wearing the medallions that such a look requires…).

Normally, this wouldn’t be a big deal; but I wasn’t about to leave myself at the collected mercy of the ladies, gathered in that ballroom. 

Imagine my delight, then, on finding myself entering the resort, alongside Social Gal Events maestra, Dawn Hume (whose resourcefulness known no bounds, especially at Wynn); of whom I inquired as to whether or not she knew where I might find a Shout^® Wipe.

“There’s Brandon Berger,” said Dawn, grabbing my arm and nodding to Wynn’s affable Executive Director of Catering and Banquets, by way of response.  “If anyone can wrangle a Shout^® Wipe, around here; he’s your guy!”

So, I ambled over...  “Hi, Mr. Shulman: Great to see you!”

“Hey Brandon!  My iced mocha got into it with my blouse; and my blouse lost.  Would you happen to know where I might find a Shout^® Wipe?”

“Well, I don’t have a Shout^® Wipe, handy; but I think I can do you one better.  You’re about my size…  I’ll go get you one of my shirts, fresh from the laundry.  Wait here, and I’ll be right back.”

Fast-forward about ten minutes, and there was Brandon Berger, with a freshly-pressed white cotton shirt, on a hanger; coming my way.

“Here you go,” said Brandon, who then handed me a pair of lovely enamel cufflinks, saying “I thought these would go nicely, with your jacket.  Why don’t you go see if it fits?”

Off I went, to the nearest restroom; and lo’ and behold – it fit!  Furthermore, the cufflinks went beautifully with both my jacket and the accessories I was featuring.  Yay, Brandon!

But Berger wasn’t yet done availing me of his services.  He kept my dirty shirt during the luncheon (so I wouldn’t be sitting through the luncheon with a dirty shirt in my lap); then, after the event, he retrieved it for me (so I could take it to my dry cleaner – where it is, now).

“Just bring it back, sometime, when you’re done with it,” Brandon replied, when I asked how and when he needed his shirt returned.

As luck would have it, I was able to bring it and the cufflinks with me (along with a Thank You note, I’d penned); when I returned to Wynn Las Vegas, for Paul Anka’s concert, later, that evening.  As per his m.o., when I woke the next morning, there was an electronic epistle from Brandon, thanking me.  Yes…  Thanking me!

And THAT is what I call service.  When an executive will literally give me the shirt – if not from his back, per se; then freshly laundered from his office??  I was telling someone this story, and he said “Yeah, but he knows you…”  I’m sorry; but a lot of people know me (and vice-versa), and I’m hard-pressed to think of any I know in a professional capacity (even a very friendly one) who would be so inclined, were he not working in a culture where exquisite customer service is paramount.

Of course, my take-away is that I fit into one of Brandon’s shirts; and better still, I didn’t pop a single button!  Couldn’t have done that, last year.  Yay, me!

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