Not Ready for the Bright Lights

I am fully vaccinated. I am so grateful to the scientists who worked around the clock to create the vaccine, and I definitely cried a few tears of... Relief? Joy? Something when I made the appointment, got my first shot, and got my second shot.

It feels like the doors are swinging open. And yet, I'm not sure how far I want them to go.

***

One week after we moved into our house in Atlanta in March 2008, a powerful tornado tore through the city, traveling down a path one block over from our street. The tornado did a huge amount of damage, knocking windows like teeth out of the Omni, CNN Center, the Westin Peachtree Plaza where I had lived for 30 days just before moving into the house. We got so lucky, with only a few branches down and power off.

We had planned to host a dinner party the next night to thank some friends for their help with our move. Realizing we had food that might spoil, we decided to go ahead with the dinner despite having no electricity. My husband, intrepid chef that he is, set up a grill and two camping stoves on our deck to prepare the meal.

I set the table and filled the dining room with candles. Husband grilled the dinner, saved the steaks. Guests arrived with wine, more candles, and the desire to laugh through the tears brought on by the destruction that surrounded us.

Dinner was fantastic. Everything tasted great, and we hit that note of exuberance that rings when you have exactly the right mix of food, drink, and company. The candles flickered and dripped wax, and I sat back in my chair, thinking, "I am so glad we moved here."

And then the power came back on, lights beaming over the dinner table, all of us blinking at the sudden shine.

Without a word, we pushed back our chairs and rushed around the house, flipping the light switches off. The power outage had been an inconvenience, but when it was over, we weren't sure we were ready for the bright lights.

***

I am so happy and so relieved to see travelers book flights, reserve hotel rooms, and get back to the pleasure of business. I want airplanes full, hotels sold out, and convention centers littered with dropped nametags. I want to go somewhere! 

But I'm guessing that I'm not the only person who also feels a sort of ambivalence at the return to normal. In fact, I imagine a lot of people - some of whom will soon appear at your Front Desk - have a nagging wistfulness about being back in the world.

Maybe they miss their kids. Maybe their business shoes - unworn for 13 months - pinch their toes. Maybe they aren't sure if they are safe.

As hoteliers, we have to do our best to meet these post-pandemic pioneers where they are. The person in front of you may be a business traveler, but he's also a homeschooling dad whose kids have left the house again, a far-away daughter who hasn't hugged her mom in 16 months, or an online dater who hasn't been able to swipe right in a long, long time. 

Hotels aspire to make emotional connections with their guests, and we are being given a huge opportunity to do so right now. When we embrace the full humanity of the travelers that choose us, we can help them feel better. As you count the climbing occupancy points or calculate an increase in your linen order, spend some time thinking about how to soothe the unease of a post-COVID traveler.

Have a great example of how your hotel is adjusting for post-pandemic travelers? Drop a comment below or send me a DM.

Photo by Dave Lastovskiy on Unsplash