The other day I took a cab from McCarran International Airport in Las Vegas to my hotel on The Strip.

About 10 minutes into the drive, I struck up a conversation with the cab driver about the purpose of my trip—to speak to an insurance group about customer service.

He asked me a question or two about customer service and one of the comments I made was that exceptional customer service is not usually the result of one big thing. It’s often the result of many little things done exceptionally well.

To illustrate my point, I said to him, “For instance, while you settled into the driver’s seat, I slid the door open and then, once inside, had to reposition myself in order to reach back and pull the door closed. I managed but my point is that you missed an opportunity to provide exceptional customer service. Had you opened and closed the van door for me, I would have noticed.”

I went on to say that if he chose to take my advice and perform this one extra service (i.e., open and close the sliding van door for his passengers), then I believed his tips would increase by 20 percent.

He appeared interested.

I asked him if he kept a record of his tips and he said that he had only been driving a cab for about four weeks. He said that previously he was a commercial truck driver but was terminated after his third driving incident.

I buckled my seatbelt.

He estimated that he made about $40 a day in tips. I told him to apply my suggestion for a day and see whether or not his tip average increased.

I said, “Now, you still have to be competent. Customers won’t appreciate that you got their doors if you drive them around in circles. You must demonstrate knowledge of the area, drive safely, and be polite.”

He asked why I thought passengers would tip more for a little thing like opening and closing their doors.

I said, “People notice and appreciate it when others go out of their way to serve them. Most passengers wouldn’t expect for their cab drivers to get their doors for them. In fact, they’ve been conditioned to not expect it. This means that, when it does happen, it’s unexpected. It stands out. It makes an impression.”

I gave him my business card and asked him to email me with the results of the experiment. Stay tuned…

Studies by J.D. Power and Associates and others suggest that customer loyalty may increase when problems experienced by customers are resolved to their satisfaction (or, better yet, their delight). Even so, problems often go unresolved or ignored by employees who are in a position to make things right and win over customers in the process.

Earlier this week in New York City, I had experiences that illustrate both extremes:

The first involved a cab ride in midtown Manhattan Tuesday morning. When I entered the taxicab at the intersection of 57th St. and Park Avenue, I said to the driver, “I’m headed down to Twenty-eighth and Park.”

He nodded and instantly we were heading south on Park Avenue towards 28th St. Initially, the driver made no impression whatsoever and I became lost in the sights and sounds of the city outside my taxicab.

It took a moment for me to realize that he had pulled over at 48th St. and totaled the fare at $4.70. Noticing this, I leaned forward and repeated, “Twenty-eighth Street, not Forty-eighth Street.”

The driver, accepting responsibility for the misunderstanding, smiled and said, “Ah—Twenty-eighth Street. I am so sorry.”

As we continued south on Park Avenue, I noticed that the fare reading on the meter remained unchanged. Sure enough, as he pulled to the curb at 28th St., the total fare had not changed from $4.70. He had accepted responsibility for the misunderstanding and absorbed the final twenty blocks worth of fare.

As a result, I paid ten dollars for the ride and thanked him for his understanding.

Contrast this with an experience I had later that day at a midtown diner:

My server, Mackenzie, was a delight. She was effervescent, interested, and engaged. She made eye-contact, smiled, and added enthusiasm to her voice. She was exceptional.

After I had ordered a cheeseburger, a Coke, and a side of onion rings for lunch, Mackenzie said, “What would you like on your cheeseburger?”

I said, “Just lettuce. Hold the pickles and onions.” Then I added, “I know it’s weird. I’m ordering a side of onion rings but having you hold the onions on my cheeseburger. I just like them fried.”

She smiled and said, “Oh, I know just what you’re talking about. I’m the same way!”

We had made a personal connection. The ice was broken. I was no longer just another restaurant cover. And she was no longer just another server. She delivered my Coke to the table, smiled wide, and was off to the kitchen to submit my lunch order.

Ten minutes later, the diner’s manager arrived at my table with my cheeseburger and a basket of tater tots. At the same time, Mackenzie arrived tableside to verify that I was all set.

As the manager placed the tater tots on the table I said, “Oh wait—I didn’t order tater tots. I ordered onion rings.”

Mackenzie looked at her manager, then at me (this time, not smiling) and said, “You ordered tater tots.”

At first I thought she was joking—especially given the conversation we’d had about onions. When it was clear that she wasn’t kidding, I said, “Don’t you remember our conversation? (silence) I had you hold the onions on my cheeseburger but ordered a side of onion rings?”

Stone faced, and without responding, she followed her manager back to the kitchen. When she returned to the restaurant floor, she avoided my table. A few minutes later, the manager placed a basket of onion rings on my table and left without saying a word.

Now, I’m not sure what the dynamics were. Maybe Mackenzie’s manager is particularly intolerant of mistakes? Maybe there was some other reason that caused her to claim ignorance in order to save face? Either way, I felt uneasy about it. (Of the many feelings you’d like your customers to experience, uneasiness isn’t one of them.)

I ate my lunch (which was excellent), paid my bill, and left.

On a ten-point scale, I would rate my experience with the cab driver a ten and, if given the chance, would go out of my way to ride with him again. I would refer him to others and would even be willing to pay a small premium to ride with this particular driver—largely due to the trust and confidence I now have in him.

On the other hand, I would rate my experience at the diner a six and would not go out of my way to return to this diner or recommend it to others. My review has been tainted by the “tater tot incident” and, specifically, Mackenzie’s refusal to accept responsibility for her mistake.

Problems are inevitable. Whether or not employees choose to own them, however, is optional. Those employees who do are one step closer to resolving problems—and creating loyal customers!