There’s a Nic Cage joke going around the interwebs. A few years back, a guest at a hotel in Texas replied to what she thought was an automated text after check-in. When the text asked if there was anything she needed for her stay, she decided to test the system and request a photo of Nic Cage from Con Air on her pillow. To her surprise and delight, it showed up. And now, it’s a thing people do when they are making their hotel reservations online and a box pops up asking if there are any special requests. Nic Cage is special.
But really, this is a test. Because of course it’s not a computer that prints out a picture and slips it into a frame, walks it up to the room, and places it on the bed with a note saying “Sweet Dreams.” It’s a human. Usually, it’s a concierge, whose job it is to serve the needs and requests of guests, from big asks for dinner reservations and show tickets to smaller requests for room nuances or recommendations for the best running trails or out-of-the-way coffee shops. But the pandemic changed hospitality forever, and the role of concierges might be one of the less talked-about casualties.
“We are an ambassador to the city, a personal face that helps people from all over the world find and see the best we have in Minneapolis.”
Inari Min
If you’ve ever watched Wes Anderson’s The Grand Budapest Hotel, you’ll know that concierge Gustave H. is the hero of the movie. In Anderson style, the characters are part of the Society of the Crossed Keys, which is an elite network of concierges that ends up saving the life of the hero. This fictional society was inspired by a real one, the Society of the Golden Keys, started by French hotel workers in 1929 and counting about 4,000 international members today.
It’s mostly four- or five-star hotels that employ their services, but even still there seems to be a post-pandemic trend to eliminate the position. Whether it be due to staffing shortages or a lack of business, hotels are combining the role of concierge with the duties of the front desk staff. Of course, that feels obvious, but does it really align with the spirit of the role?
Inari Min, who was a concierge for the W Hotel pre-pandemic, thinks not. “There are special things that we, as concierges, would do for guests that the front desk staff usually don’t have time for. At the W, we were stationed in the living room, where people could approach us comfortably, where they were relaxing and chitchatting. My mission was to make things special. Luxury can be something that is kind and thoughtful; a small yes is as important. For instance, if I made a dinner reservation for someone, I’d print off a confirmation with all the details and directions and slip it under their door. That’s not something that was required; I just wanted them to have what they might need.”
Min would spend her own money to eat at varied restaurants around town just so that she would be able to confidently represent them to her guests. She would reach out to owners of establishments near the hotel and inquire if there was any sort of deal they might want to set up for guests who flashed their hotel key. Good for the local business, good for the guest.
Min believes that the concierge is more than a fixer or servant to the monied and elite. “We are an ambassador to the city, a personal face that helps people from all over the world find and see the best we have in Minneapolis. It was challenging in a lot of ways, but I was proud of what I did, proud of my knowledge, and proud of our city.” Seems like that would be a good role to have in your hotel. According to Min, who worked as concierge for The W between New York and Minneapolis for 12 years, she can’t seem to find a local concierge job that isn’t part of the front desk team as well. Notably, she made about $16 an hour, which is less than my line cook son.
Since we’ve recently opened a five-star hotel in our community, I asked the Four Seasons Hotel manager Bryan Ruch how they view the role. “At Four Seasons, we do our best work together. That’s why we decided to approach the role of concierge as a team. As part of our ongoing front-office training, staff are deepening their knowledge of all the Twin Cities has to offer. This way, every guest—no matter the time of day—has access to local insights, dining and entertainment recommendations, nearby events they may enjoy, and more. Since opening, we’ve been very pleased with this process, and we’re keeping an ongoing dialogue with our guests to ensure they are too.”
It’s clear to me that as we deepen into a society that uses technology for efficiency, it will be the small human touches that become more important. The Nic Cage photo, a test to see if there are really humans behind the screen, points to something we all truly hope for: that concierges, or at least their humanity, never go away.