Another wonderful tradition, tossed out like a used Wetnap: Tonight, for the first time in my life, I had to draw my own coffee at Dunkin’ Donuts.
One of the chain’s service signatures was drawing and fixing every coffee to the customer’s specifications. The counter personnel didn’t hand you a cup and point to a press-pot pump dispenser; if you wanted a medium with milk and two sugars, that’s precisely what you were handed, even during the morning rush.
It was a subtle distinction that hadn’t really registered after a lifetime of frequenting Dunkin’ (when you grow up on the East Coast, you spend a lot of time during your teens with a Boston Crème in one hand and three or four Munchkins in the other). Lee Sanders, the current president of T.G.I. Friday’s operations, opened my eyes to the ironclad policy while he was working at Dunkin’ Brands, back in the years when it was owned by Allied Domecq. “You’ll never see a press pot at Dunkin, ever,” he said, explaining why the chain had hit some resistance as it moved into grab-and-go situations where speed of service was critical.
That policy has apparently been scuttled. For all I know, it was dropped years ago at some locations, and I just hadn’t encountered it. Then again, I’ve hit Dunkin’ units in all sorts of locations, from streetside New York City stores to train stations, airports, shopping malls and highway travel stops.
I learned of the tradition’s demise when I stopped at a gas station on Long Island that had just put a Dunkin’ station into its c-store area. I went to the counter and ordered a medium coffee with milk. The attendant didn’t even hand me a cup; he just pointed to a dispenser station. It was not an experience that defined hospitality.
Granted, I didn’t exactly risk Carpal Tunnel Syndrome from holding down a lever to fill a 12-ounce disposable cup. But it’s the principle, damn it.
Starbucks went through a wrenching retrenchment because the brand’s godfather and CEO, Howard Schultz, believed it’d drifted away from its culture and distinctions. Since that time, and not just for that reason, the brand’s fortunes have been revived.
I know of one Dunkin’ customer who hopes that venerable brand doesn’t drift away from what made it special.
Showing posts with label service. Show all posts
Showing posts with label service. Show all posts
Friday, February 18, 2011
Friday, July 23, 2010
Chipotle takes steps to speed service
Chipotle has established a new serving-line position as part of stepped-up effort to handle more customers during lunch and dinner rushes.
The expediter scrambles to complete a patron’s order—adding the drink, grabbing some chips or extra guacamole, bagging to-go items—so the cashier can focus on ringing up the order. Executives explained to investors yesterday that the set-up speeds service because the cashier now handles only the sales transaction, instead of juggling that function with finishing an order.
The high-flying burrito chain is also trying to handle more customers during crunch periods by ensuring that all prep work is completed before the rushes hit. Instead of chopping or slicing, staffers can be on the line, handling orders.
Executives said the production of stores is being boosted without an increase in labor costs through more astute scheduling and deployment.
They were less forthcoming about another new initiative for the chain, Burritos by the Box. They declined to answer questions about the Box, a program for handling bulk orders.
According to earlier press reports, each Box contains six identical burritos or burrito bowls, along with containers of guacamole, sour cream and salsa so the items can be customized before being eaten. The Box order, which also includes six bags of chips, is reportedly selling for just under $44, or roughly $7.30 per person.
The program was being tested in Las Vegas and California.
The expediter scrambles to complete a patron’s order—adding the drink, grabbing some chips or extra guacamole, bagging to-go items—so the cashier can focus on ringing up the order. Executives explained to investors yesterday that the set-up speeds service because the cashier now handles only the sales transaction, instead of juggling that function with finishing an order.
The high-flying burrito chain is also trying to handle more customers during crunch periods by ensuring that all prep work is completed before the rushes hit. Instead of chopping or slicing, staffers can be on the line, handling orders.
Executives said the production of stores is being boosted without an increase in labor costs through more astute scheduling and deployment.
They were less forthcoming about another new initiative for the chain, Burritos by the Box. They declined to answer questions about the Box, a program for handling bulk orders.
According to earlier press reports, each Box contains six identical burritos or burrito bowls, along with containers of guacamole, sour cream and salsa so the items can be customized before being eaten. The Box order, which also includes six bags of chips, is reportedly selling for just under $44, or roughly $7.30 per person.
The program was being tested in Las Vegas and California.
Thursday, January 14, 2010
My day on the restaurant savannah
I’m on safari this week for that most elusive of beasts, the free-spending consumer. Word reached camp of a gaggle converging at the midday feeding spots of my suburban hometown. So off I zoomed in my four-wheel-drive upholstered bushwhacker, eager to observe the habits of this prized and seemingly endangered prey.
The question was where. I picked up the trail in a section of the suburban wilds known to local tribesmen as a strip mall. The peculiar formation of neon and hardtop is a favored spot of the species’ juveniles, but this was the time of day when most hang out in schools rather than in small foraging packs. Indeed, the specimens milling outside what naturalists call a chain restaurant were decidedly long in the tooth. Perhaps they were the stragglers of a free-spending herd inside.
No such luck. There were all of six grey-heads at the trough, seemingly enjoying the shelter more than the food. Indeed, they weren’t even spending. Yet this was prime feeding time. Why such a sparse turnout?
The mystery deepened as I scouted the savannah for other traces of the dollar-wielding consumer. A local pizzeria was packed. Ditto for a hole-in-the-wall with the unlikely dual specialties of pizza and soup.
A bagel shop, a one-of-a-kind known throughout the region, didn’t even necessitate a stop-by. I knew it would be packed.
And I could’ve been trampled in a local upscale market. Perhaps it was the aroma of the food as the chefs spooned it from pan to platter behind a chest-high glass wall, handing out samples as they worked. Here, craning their necks as they bayed for a taste, were my wallet-emptying foragers. They huddled near the imported cheeses, and two females appeared ready to butt heads over a choice piece of foccacia on display. Some looked ready to purr over their ready-to-eat purchases.
A scientist would smile and say, What do you expect? It’s quality that draws the trophy customers, not value or marketing dollars.
Yet that only begins to tell the story. I had pulled a Dian Fosse and eaten with the subjects of my observations at the chain restaurant. It proved a harrowing experience. I had ordered two things. Before I could even finish saying Item I, the counter-person had cut me off, demanding—and I mean demanding—to know if I wanted cheese on it. Interrogators use a warmer tone.
Then, even though I had only ordered two things, and I was the only customer, he botched my request and input only one selection in the POS. He wasn’t happy when I pointed out that I wanted a soda with my burger. His day was clearly ruined, so tragically that he finally had to pick up a pencil and manually figure out my tab, sighing the whole time. At $3.24, I’d bet my home it was off considerably.
Then I had the Wild Kingdom experience of listening to the mathematician and his colleagues as they discussed my request in Spanish, at one point with a hearty guffaw. It had a vaguely menacing feel, like hearing strange sounds in a thick wood.
The food, in contrast, was good. Not on par with the gourmet shop, to be sure, but a notch or two above my expectations for a feeding spot of that price range. And definitely in the same range qualitywise as local pizza-by-the-slice.
No, the problema for restaurant chains go beyond a yearning to get better quality for the dollars we can crowbar out of our wallets during these bruising days. It seems as if too many members of that pack have forgotten they’re a service breed first and foremost, and what they really deliver is an experience, not stuff.
Sometimes a leopard has to change its spots if it doesn’t want to get skinned.
The question was where. I picked up the trail in a section of the suburban wilds known to local tribesmen as a strip mall. The peculiar formation of neon and hardtop is a favored spot of the species’ juveniles, but this was the time of day when most hang out in schools rather than in small foraging packs. Indeed, the specimens milling outside what naturalists call a chain restaurant were decidedly long in the tooth. Perhaps they were the stragglers of a free-spending herd inside.
No such luck. There were all of six grey-heads at the trough, seemingly enjoying the shelter more than the food. Indeed, they weren’t even spending. Yet this was prime feeding time. Why such a sparse turnout?
The mystery deepened as I scouted the savannah for other traces of the dollar-wielding consumer. A local pizzeria was packed. Ditto for a hole-in-the-wall with the unlikely dual specialties of pizza and soup.
A bagel shop, a one-of-a-kind known throughout the region, didn’t even necessitate a stop-by. I knew it would be packed.
And I could’ve been trampled in a local upscale market. Perhaps it was the aroma of the food as the chefs spooned it from pan to platter behind a chest-high glass wall, handing out samples as they worked. Here, craning their necks as they bayed for a taste, were my wallet-emptying foragers. They huddled near the imported cheeses, and two females appeared ready to butt heads over a choice piece of foccacia on display. Some looked ready to purr over their ready-to-eat purchases.
A scientist would smile and say, What do you expect? It’s quality that draws the trophy customers, not value or marketing dollars.
Yet that only begins to tell the story. I had pulled a Dian Fosse and eaten with the subjects of my observations at the chain restaurant. It proved a harrowing experience. I had ordered two things. Before I could even finish saying Item I, the counter-person had cut me off, demanding—and I mean demanding—to know if I wanted cheese on it. Interrogators use a warmer tone.
Then, even though I had only ordered two things, and I was the only customer, he botched my request and input only one selection in the POS. He wasn’t happy when I pointed out that I wanted a soda with my burger. His day was clearly ruined, so tragically that he finally had to pick up a pencil and manually figure out my tab, sighing the whole time. At $3.24, I’d bet my home it was off considerably.
Then I had the Wild Kingdom experience of listening to the mathematician and his colleagues as they discussed my request in Spanish, at one point with a hearty guffaw. It had a vaguely menacing feel, like hearing strange sounds in a thick wood.
The food, in contrast, was good. Not on par with the gourmet shop, to be sure, but a notch or two above my expectations for a feeding spot of that price range. And definitely in the same range qualitywise as local pizza-by-the-slice.
No, the problema for restaurant chains go beyond a yearning to get better quality for the dollars we can crowbar out of our wallets during these bruising days. It seems as if too many members of that pack have forgotten they’re a service breed first and foremost, and what they really deliver is an experience, not stuff.
Sometimes a leopard has to change its spots if it doesn’t want to get skinned.
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Meanwhile, in non-Tiger news...
‘Tis the season to hunker down and hope for a better next year, so the restaurant business hasn’t exactly been cranking out news like an elf production line. But a few little-noticed developments in recent days might prompt some hmm’s among the ho-ho-ho’s.
Applebee’s experiments with a server-calling system. A number of franchised stores here and there are testing a tabletop device that allows guests to summon their server if something is needed. Patrons press a button on a tabletop console, which causes a watch-like device worn by their waiter or waitress to vibrate, according to a story in the Sun News, a South Carolina newspaper.
The set-up also monitors how long the guests initially sit before a server approaches. When a hostess seats a party, she waives a watch near the tabletop console. That causes the watch of the wait staffer assigned to the table to vibrate, and an unseen timer starts. If the server doesn’t show within a minute, the manager’s watch buzzes. Then a painful electric shock is directed at the tardy server. Okay, I made that up. But it’s an interesting idea.
Server alerts have been tried for eons. The 160-year-old Tadich Grill in San Francisco, for instance, features tableside buttons on the wall that patrons can press for service. A similar set-up is a signature of a classic watering hole in New York City, the International Bar.
It says a lot that those places are known for the novelty (and kitsch) of having a server-summoning system. Plenty of other converts presumably discovered that the set-up detracted from a guest’s experience. When you have to buzz for someone to take an order, you’re unlikely to coo over the attentive service you’re getting. Unless it’s handled well, patrons might as well take a number, as if they were at the supermarket deli.
Goofy has been pink-slipped by a Disney World restaurant. Other characters had their hours cut, according to a recent post on Examiner, the network of blogs that’s been set up as grassroots news service.
If the posting is accurate, I might soon spot Goofy in a state unemployment classes. The ‘Ohana Restaurant in the Polynesian Resort of Disney World was dropped Pluto’s packmate from the character rotation, or the circulation of people in Disney character costumers during meals, according to the report.
I initially suspected he got a job as the mascot for a Major League Baseball team, since a Goofy would fit just about any of the squads. But that doesn’t explain why Rabbit, a Winnie the Pooh character to which Disney owns the rights, is also gone.
Meanwhile, Eeyore, Piglet, Tigger and Pooh himself reportedly had their circulation hours cut.
And all you see on the airwaves is non-stop reporting about healthcare.
Restaurant marketing makes the list of 2009 campaigns to remember. Unfortunately, the campaigns may not be remembered for reasons the industry should cherish.
For instance, the Wall Street Journal ranked Burger King’s de-friending crusade on Facebook as the year’s fourth best marketing program. In case you’ve forgotten the furor it sparked, the campaign rewarded Facebook users with a Whopper coupon for every 10 acquaintances they “de-friended,” or publicly designated as someone they didn’t want as a friend anymore. About 234,000 people were informed of their newfound leper status before Facebook asked Burger King to knock off the high school nonsense.
It’s vexing to see that effort on the Best of the Year list when KFC’s plug from Oprah Winfrey is on the Worst-of roster. The talk-show hostess informed viewers that they could try KFC’s new Kentucky Grilled Chicken for free, triggering a run on the Colonel’s old Kentucky chicken home.
KFC halted the giveaway, saying supplies had been depleted. But it was never clear if the chain rain out the new product or merely didn’t want to give away that much free food.
In any case, the cut-off triggered more media coverage than we’d see until Tiger was brushing broken car window off his Nike shirt. The logo would be torn off later, no doubt to Woods' delight that nothing else was torn off his body.
Applebee’s experiments with a server-calling system. A number of franchised stores here and there are testing a tabletop device that allows guests to summon their server if something is needed. Patrons press a button on a tabletop console, which causes a watch-like device worn by their waiter or waitress to vibrate, according to a story in the Sun News, a South Carolina newspaper.
The set-up also monitors how long the guests initially sit before a server approaches. When a hostess seats a party, she waives a watch near the tabletop console. That causes the watch of the wait staffer assigned to the table to vibrate, and an unseen timer starts. If the server doesn’t show within a minute, the manager’s watch buzzes. Then a painful electric shock is directed at the tardy server. Okay, I made that up. But it’s an interesting idea.
Server alerts have been tried for eons. The 160-year-old Tadich Grill in San Francisco, for instance, features tableside buttons on the wall that patrons can press for service. A similar set-up is a signature of a classic watering hole in New York City, the International Bar.
It says a lot that those places are known for the novelty (and kitsch) of having a server-summoning system. Plenty of other converts presumably discovered that the set-up detracted from a guest’s experience. When you have to buzz for someone to take an order, you’re unlikely to coo over the attentive service you’re getting. Unless it’s handled well, patrons might as well take a number, as if they were at the supermarket deli.
Goofy has been pink-slipped by a Disney World restaurant. Other characters had their hours cut, according to a recent post on Examiner, the network of blogs that’s been set up as grassroots news service.
If the posting is accurate, I might soon spot Goofy in a state unemployment classes. The ‘Ohana Restaurant in the Polynesian Resort of Disney World was dropped Pluto’s packmate from the character rotation, or the circulation of people in Disney character costumers during meals, according to the report.
I initially suspected he got a job as the mascot for a Major League Baseball team, since a Goofy would fit just about any of the squads. But that doesn’t explain why Rabbit, a Winnie the Pooh character to which Disney owns the rights, is also gone.
Meanwhile, Eeyore, Piglet, Tigger and Pooh himself reportedly had their circulation hours cut.
And all you see on the airwaves is non-stop reporting about healthcare.
Restaurant marketing makes the list of 2009 campaigns to remember. Unfortunately, the campaigns may not be remembered for reasons the industry should cherish.
For instance, the Wall Street Journal ranked Burger King’s de-friending crusade on Facebook as the year’s fourth best marketing program. In case you’ve forgotten the furor it sparked, the campaign rewarded Facebook users with a Whopper coupon for every 10 acquaintances they “de-friended,” or publicly designated as someone they didn’t want as a friend anymore. About 234,000 people were informed of their newfound leper status before Facebook asked Burger King to knock off the high school nonsense.
It’s vexing to see that effort on the Best of the Year list when KFC’s plug from Oprah Winfrey is on the Worst-of roster. The talk-show hostess informed viewers that they could try KFC’s new Kentucky Grilled Chicken for free, triggering a run on the Colonel’s old Kentucky chicken home.
KFC halted the giveaway, saying supplies had been depleted. But it was never clear if the chain rain out the new product or merely didn’t want to give away that much free food.
In any case, the cut-off triggered more media coverage than we’d see until Tiger was brushing broken car window off his Nike shirt. The logo would be torn off later, no doubt to Woods' delight that nothing else was torn off his body.
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Shareholders as mystery shoppers
I recently moderated a webinar where the participants cited the need for new ways of gauging customers’ service experiences. The prevailing method, of inviting patrons to take an online or telephone survey in exchange for a freebie, has apparently lost its impact, though they did not explain why. Instead, they suggested there has to be a more effective way of soliciting input, using new technology or at least fresher techniques.
Sardar Biglari, the activist investor who took over Steak n Shake’s corner office last year, told investors yesterday of a feedback mechanism he’s put in place to short-circuit the process between guest experiences and a restaurant’s better financial performance.
The mechanism also fits his self-avowed cheapness. “We are demons on costs,” he proudly told stockholders in a letter posted on Steak n Shake’s corporate website. “Trimming them is
now embedded in our corporate DNA.”
The system he’s set up in effect turns Steak n Shake’s thousands of stockholders into mystery shoppers. As Biglari explained in his letter to those investors, the family restaurant chain set up an e-mail hotline a year ago, owner@steaknshake.com, so any stockholder could recount their experiences in a unit to the home office.
If they spotted something good or bad, executives will take note, Biglari stressed. You can be assured that each message is read, and when necessary the Steak n Shake team is dispatched quickly to remediate any problems,” he said.
In addition to fixing problems before they can fester, the arrangement demonstrates that headquarters will be accountable to the company’s owners, even over such things as the cleanliness of the silverware.
So far, Biglari indicated, the system has been a success: “The email, which goes to all members of the restaurant operation’s senior leadership team, has been both effective and cheap — in line with our motto.”
To keep the system from being commandeered by suppliers trying to flog a product, Biglari has set some stern ground rules: Do it once and you'll be assured of never doing business with Steak n Shake.
Any other non-stockholder who uses the e-mail address will be boiled in oil. Okay, I made that up. But I don't think the response from headquarters will have its i's dotted with little hearts or flowers.
Biglari recently surpassed Nelson Peltz as the gadfly most likely to be covered by Restaurant Reality Check. His prescriptions for reviving a restaurant company, and most definitely his means of putting them forward, are hardly cookbook, as his feedback mechanism and shareholder letter readily attest.
But it’s hard to argue with his approach, given the results. When Biglari assumed control of Steak n Shake, the company was losing money at the rate of $100,000 a day, he told shareholders. For its most recently completed quarter, the concern posted a net profit of $3.4 million, compared with a net loss a year ago of $9.2 million.
The bounce back was even more dramatic on an annual basis. Steak n Shake enjoyed a profit for the fiscal year of $6 million, compared with a loss the year beforehand of $23 million.
Granted, the most recent fiscal year encompassed 53 weeks instead of 52. Still, same-store sales during the fourth quarter leapt 10% on a 20% quantum leap in traffic.
Biglari might ruffle some feathers, but he’s delivering to Steak n Shake’s shareholders, employees and guests.
Sardar Biglari, the activist investor who took over Steak n Shake’s corner office last year, told investors yesterday of a feedback mechanism he’s put in place to short-circuit the process between guest experiences and a restaurant’s better financial performance.
The mechanism also fits his self-avowed cheapness. “We are demons on costs,” he proudly told stockholders in a letter posted on Steak n Shake’s corporate website. “Trimming them is
now embedded in our corporate DNA.”
The system he’s set up in effect turns Steak n Shake’s thousands of stockholders into mystery shoppers. As Biglari explained in his letter to those investors, the family restaurant chain set up an e-mail hotline a year ago, owner@steaknshake.com, so any stockholder could recount their experiences in a unit to the home office.
If they spotted something good or bad, executives will take note, Biglari stressed. You can be assured that each message is read, and when necessary the Steak n Shake team is dispatched quickly to remediate any problems,” he said.
In addition to fixing problems before they can fester, the arrangement demonstrates that headquarters will be accountable to the company’s owners, even over such things as the cleanliness of the silverware.
So far, Biglari indicated, the system has been a success: “The email, which goes to all members of the restaurant operation’s senior leadership team, has been both effective and cheap — in line with our motto.”
To keep the system from being commandeered by suppliers trying to flog a product, Biglari has set some stern ground rules: Do it once and you'll be assured of never doing business with Steak n Shake.
Any other non-stockholder who uses the e-mail address will be boiled in oil. Okay, I made that up. But I don't think the response from headquarters will have its i's dotted with little hearts or flowers.
Biglari recently surpassed Nelson Peltz as the gadfly most likely to be covered by Restaurant Reality Check. His prescriptions for reviving a restaurant company, and most definitely his means of putting them forward, are hardly cookbook, as his feedback mechanism and shareholder letter readily attest.
But it’s hard to argue with his approach, given the results. When Biglari assumed control of Steak n Shake, the company was losing money at the rate of $100,000 a day, he told shareholders. For its most recently completed quarter, the concern posted a net profit of $3.4 million, compared with a net loss a year ago of $9.2 million.
The bounce back was even more dramatic on an annual basis. Steak n Shake enjoyed a profit for the fiscal year of $6 million, compared with a loss the year beforehand of $23 million.
Granted, the most recent fiscal year encompassed 53 weeks instead of 52. Still, same-store sales during the fourth quarter leapt 10% on a 20% quantum leap in traffic.
Biglari might ruffle some feathers, but he’s delivering to Steak n Shake’s shareholders, employees and guests.
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
When to stay home
There are times when a restaurant employee provides the sort of experience you’d only believe if Larry David were on the scene. Witness what happened yesterday to my wife when she stopped at a Moe’s Southwest Grill to grab a quick dinner for us:
Wife, joshingly: “Hey, you forgot to say ‘Welcome to Moe’s!’”
Counter employee: “My mother just died so I really don’t have it in me. So, (very sprightly) what’ll you have?”
Wife, joshingly: “Hey, you forgot to say ‘Welcome to Moe’s!’”
Counter employee: “My mother just died so I really don’t have it in me. So, (very sprightly) what’ll you have?”
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Random thoughts III
When everyone’s giving away food that’s remarkably similar in the first place, service becomes the real way of differentiating restaurant chains that compete at a given price level. That underappreciated fact was underscored today by coverage of how both Boston Market and Chili’s are trying to shake off their lethargy.
A USA Today story revealed that Boston Market is moving toward the classic fast-casual model by testing table delivery. Guests place their order, take their seat, and wait for the food to be brought to their table.
CEO Lane Cardwell also noted that the concept will strive to be more of a true market, vis-à-vis Eatzi’s and the gourmet food shops that inspired both it and Boston Market.
Meanwhile, the Wall Street Journal ran a super-premium story on how Chili’s is hoping to get its pizzazz back. Last week the chain started serving a different sort of burger, made from chuck and formed by hand to retain more of the meat’s juices, the article noted.
It also reported that the recipe for its Baby Back Ribs has been rewritten. The ribs are now smoked for a longer stretch, using pecan instead of mesquite to impart more flavor.
Service enhancements are also part of the revitalization effort. The story noted that restaurant-level employees were required to partake of a distance-learning program on service. Among the upshots is a requirement that servers now look all guests in the eye and cite new features of the menu.
A USA Today story revealed that Boston Market is moving toward the classic fast-casual model by testing table delivery. Guests place their order, take their seat, and wait for the food to be brought to their table.
CEO Lane Cardwell also noted that the concept will strive to be more of a true market, vis-à-vis Eatzi’s and the gourmet food shops that inspired both it and Boston Market.
Meanwhile, the Wall Street Journal ran a super-premium story on how Chili’s is hoping to get its pizzazz back. Last week the chain started serving a different sort of burger, made from chuck and formed by hand to retain more of the meat’s juices, the article noted.
It also reported that the recipe for its Baby Back Ribs has been rewritten. The ribs are now smoked for a longer stretch, using pecan instead of mesquite to impart more flavor.
Service enhancements are also part of the revitalization effort. The story noted that restaurant-level employees were required to partake of a distance-learning program on service. Among the upshots is a requirement that servers now look all guests in the eye and cite new features of the menu.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Can the birthday baloney
Restaurants routinely honor birthday celebrants with a free dessert, possibly a kooky hat, and almost certainly a rousing rendition of “Happy Birthday” from the staff. Yet, speaking as a consumer who’s witnessed those situations too many times, I’d like to suggest a new standard amenity: Cattle prods. They should be distributed to the guests sitting around the birthday boy or girl so we can drive away the singing servers before they interrupt our conversation and otherwise wreck the meal.
Apparently I’m not alone in my birthday Scrooge-ism. A recent news story points out that some restaurant chains are rethinking their birthday hilarity because other guests resent the disruption. Some are reclassifying the once-obligatory song as an option rather than a standard operating procedure.
This, my fellow dining Americans, is a breakthrough for mankind. Never again will we have to grit our teeth as servers deliver a song to some stranger whom they’re treating as a best bud for three minutes, only to turn around and hit the table with a check. Nor will the reveler have to persevere through that often unwanted attention. And everyone else can relish conversation, one of the factors that makes a meal truly memorable.
Apparently I’m not alone in my birthday Scrooge-ism. A recent news story points out that some restaurant chains are rethinking their birthday hilarity because other guests resent the disruption. Some are reclassifying the once-obligatory song as an option rather than a standard operating procedure.
This, my fellow dining Americans, is a breakthrough for mankind. Never again will we have to grit our teeth as servers deliver a song to some stranger whom they’re treating as a best bud for three minutes, only to turn around and hit the table with a check. Nor will the reveler have to persevere through that often unwanted attention. And everyone else can relish conversation, one of the factors that makes a meal truly memorable.
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