To the Staff of the Basin Harbor Club
Dear Staff of the Basin Harbor Club,
I am writing this from the edge of the long concrete pier next to the harbor office, last night’s shirt rippling in the breeze, the morning sun just about to break a little warmth through the fog over the lake.
Over the last day or so I’ve been wondering how I could sum up the service in this hotel for my friends. Possessing neither the clarity nor brevity in my current state to narrow this experience to just a few words, I will instead write a letter of humble thanks to you, the staff, for the amazing services you have provided. Names are omitted here, not only because your bosses need not know what credit is due where, but also because I’ll surely forget some of the many names of those to whom I owe this great thanks.
The fine array of amenities this hotel offers still pales in comparison with the approachability of the Basin Harbor staff. To the maid that I woke up next to on my first morning, I must say your enthusiastic customer service certainly distracts one from your lack of professionalism. However, I do worry that regardless of how attentive you may be to your customers, you should strive to make sure that the sheets will be cleaner once you have finished your tasks, rather than unusable. It was quite uncomfortable to only realize the importance of staff cleanliness once I had already sat down for breakfast with four generations of my family. Of course, it was also quite a surprise to have had you at hand in the first place.
In fact, I found much of the trip to be an educational experience. Saturday night’s Pimps and Hos party very quickly trained me in motivational management techniques. Sunday’s outdoor keg party was equally effective; as was Monday night’s booze cruise. And to the sports instructors, who, for free, showed me the correct form, grace and concentration needed to throw a ping-pong ball into a small cup, I’m sure if I ever again find myself in such an unusual state of focus, I shall remember that technique.
But most enlightening, of course, was last night’s walking tour. Oh how we laughed! Climbing the golf course’s many trees, making sand angels in the bunkers and watching the star-speckled night sky, preceded by that magical amuse-gueule of rare mushrooms: what euphoria! And only hours later — after the sun had finally risen and I could understand material worth again — I found myself enjoying a pleasant drive along the length and breadth of that course in my very own golf cart, the second bag of mushrooms so generously donated by one of your staff already giving me strength. I found my camera at 7:15 a.m.
That was only two hours ago, and it is with much regret that here I must sign off. My family is expecting me again for breakfast, for soon we will be departing. The terrible sickness I currently feel is probably linked, at least in part, to the sadness of having to leave. I am not sure. But I do know that I could not go without thanking you most profoundly for making my stay so memorable. What only lasted days has in fact aged me years, and I only wish I was able to continue. With all my appreciation,
Nick Broad xx
