In the late 1990’s movie, The Truman Show, there is a character named, Marlon, who is the best friend of the main character, Truman, and who is sent into the breach with a six-pack of beer at the first sniff of trouble. The premise of the movie is that Truman has been adopted at birth by a television network, and, unbeknownst to Truman, his entire life is filmed and streamed on television - a reality show, in which all those around him have been cast in supporting roles in Truman’s life. It’s an entertaining movie, and is worth a look, if you haven’t seen it yet.
But, that’s not the point of this piece; if you want movie reviews, there are hundreds of places which you can visit to learn about this and any other movie - that’s not my thing, man.
Rather, I had an experience recently which reminded me of this movie: more specifically, what will henceforth be known as, “The Marlon Solution.”
On Christmas Eve, given that our household of two planned to celebrate alone, my wife had ordered a complete dinner from a local restaurant, and asked that I pick up the dinner from the restaurant just prior to 3:00 p.m., at which time they were closing. The restaurant was executing take-out business only, in line with our state’s then-current COVID-19 restrictions on dining. My instructions were to retrieve the turkey dinner, and pay for it, ensuring that we received all five dishes, plus gravy.
I did not know what the five dishes were supposed to be, but I asked the restaurant manager who was helping me load tin-foil pans into my car to verify that I was receiving five dishes. With a puzzled look he said, “Five?” Recognizing what components a turkey dinner typically included, I began listing likely suspects - I believe I began with turkey, and then suggested mashed potatoes. At that, he admitted that there were no mashed potatoes in the order, and further, that he was not able to produce any from the kitchen.
With a theatrical sigh (because, whereas I like mashed potatoes, I’m not a big fan of sweet potatoes, which were included in the order), I indicated to him that, although disappointed, I understood that sometimes mistakes are made, and that we would simply make do with the massive amount of food which had already been placed in my car, sans mashed potatoes, which, upon review, could likely have fed an entire platoon.
I scooted home with my Christmas Eve bounty, and shared the bad news with my wife, highlighting that, “four out of five ain’t bad.” As we unpacked the tins, she asked me where the stuffing was. We were now entering dangerous, “three out of five” territory - completely unacceptable! I was instructed to race back to the restaurant, and given that it was now after 3:00, and the restaurant was now closed, I was to bang loudly on the door until someone responded and let me in to solve the problem at hand.
The front door was still unlocked, and I strode into the bar area, where meal distribution activities were headquartered. The manager had just hung up the phone with my wife, who was expressing her displeasure at the gaps in the dinner lineup, and informed me that he had been asked to tell me to, “forget it, and just come on home,” even though he had indicated that, although he was unable to replace the missing mashed potatoes, he had volunteered to produce a stuffing dish, in twenty minutes time. I had similar texts and voicemails on my phone from my wife.
I determined that calling my wife to review our options was the best course of action (I see all of you married men out there nodding your heads in agreement), and did so. She had had enough of the adventure, and simply wanted to end the drama; I, on the other hand, had just been offered a beer by the bartender, and had been invited to sit in the vacant bar area, and relax for twenty minutes, while awaiting the stuffing, which would be placed in the oven right then. In addition, I like stuffing (are you picturing me gesturing with one hand and then the other, weighing the options in my mind?).
I assuaged my wife’s disappointment, and indicated that I was going to deploy the “Marlon Solution (i.e. accept the kind and generous offer of a beer,” and wait for the stuffing). Twenty minutes later (it may have been thirty), I exited the restaurant, tin of stuffing in hand, and headed home. Also, I had a free bottle of wine in tow (a corollary to the “Marlon Solution,” not nearly as widespread in its use as the offer of a free beer, but nonetheless appropriate in certain situations).
We enjoyed the dinner - the food was quite tasty - and moved on with our lives. Another successful application of the “Marlon Solution.”
It occurs to me that, “Let me get you a beer, buddy,” can be successfully utilized to de-escalate any number of upsetting or dangerous situations. Imagine if the small-town cops in the first Rambo movie had offered Sylvester Stallone a free beer, instead of harassing him and locking him up - could’ve saved a lot of heartache, and death, and destruction.
I know that the customer service training manuals typically provide more mainstream advice regarding how best to defuse a difficult customer service issue, but I suggest that you shouldn’t be so quick to reject the “Marlon Solution” when such situations arise. Just, you know, check with Human Resources first.
What’s that you say? You read this entire column, and found yourself unsatisfied with the heartfelt story, and its important societal messages. Please accept my sincere apologies, and. . .“Let me get you a beer, buddy.”