I don’t usually eat breakfast. Intermittent fasting and long days have trained my body to power through until noon most days. But when you’re on-site for days, running vendor meetings and late-night reviews, sometimes you need that extra fuel.

On my final morning at the hotel, I stopped by the breakfast buffet. To my surprise, the only hot egg option offered was a ham and egg omelet. No plain eggs. No vegetarian choices. Just one assumption: everyone wants ham.

I asked the staff if they had any hard-boiled eggs. “Not today.”

Could they make some scrambled eggs? “Not on the menu.”

I didn’t raise my voice. I just gave that look. The kind that says, really? I mentioned that I’d be sure to add it to the feedback survey, and suddenly the manager was at my table. But instead of solving the problem, she explained why it was hard to make eggs. It would take 30 minutes. The buffet would be closing. There would be waste. The message was clear: my ask wasn’t worth the effort.

Here’s what I learned in that moment:

It wasn’t about the eggs.

It was about the way I was made to feel for asking for something reasonable.

It was about being told "we can" with a tone that meant "we won’t."

It was about watching a simple fix become a complicated ordeal, not because it was hard, but because no one cared enough to make it easy.

In any service role, hospitality or tech, we make a choice every day.

We can meet people with policies or with possibility.

We can respond with friction or flexibility.

We can say no and walk away, or we can say yes — or at least try.

A better experience would have been easy. Stock hard-boiled eggs. Allow for simple allergy-friendly substitutions. But more than that, show up with a can-do mindset.

Make the exception feel human, not burdensome. Make the customer feel seen, not scrutinized.

I walked away more disappointed after the manager’s “intervention” than I was with the original no. This could have been a tiny moment of delight. Instead, it was a missed chance to turn simple into special.

Customer experience isn’t about grand gestures. It is about how easy we make the easy things. Or how hard we make them for no reason at all.

I’d love to hear your thoughts. what's an experience you championed improving, and what did it take to open eyes to the change that was needed? Do write to me and let's brainstorm together on how to celebrate these, or on ways we can improve them!