Personal essays
On talking to real people.
The end
Kim and I used to love this Chinese restaurant on Shaker Square.
The chef at the kitchen I worked at would make fun of their food but we liked it and we really liked the people.
One of the touches that I remember is that as you finished the meal the owner would come over and refill water glasses and check to see how your meal was and did you want anything.
He knew that usually the answer was that everything had been great and we’d just like the check please.
He always had it with him and would give it to us and return to accept the payment and thank us for coming in.
We always left with this interaction in mind and always planned to return because we left with a smile on our faces.
Contrast that with the more common situation.
The wait staff delivers all of your food. Before you can take a bite they stop back and ask how everything is.
Then they leave you alone.
They’re probably overworked and delivering food and taking orders at other tables.
Maybe they wander back to see if they can get you something else - dessert perhaps. And as soon as you say yes or no, they’re gone again.
You finish and want to pay your bill but they’re no where to be found.
You sit and sit and your memory of a good meal and good service fades and your last impression isn’t a good one.
Service
“But Daniel,” you say, “often now there’s a QR code on the table. You just point your phone at that, pay, and leave.”
It’s not the same.
Now you can often order by pointing your phone at a QR code as well.
Maybe for some places and some situations - but, and I can’t believe my introverted self is saying this - I love the interaction when I go out.
I love asking the wait staff for their recommendation.
A good one will ask me a few questions and suggest a few items. A bad one will go down the menu and recommend virtually everything.
A great one tells what they like or order or taste and understands that my tastes might be different.
I don’t want to point my phone at a QR code and scan the menu. That’s the bad waiter recommending everything.
Banking
I went into a bank the other day for the first time in I don’t know how long.
I had someone working on my house who needed to be paid in cash.
I remember when banks were filled with tellers and activity. I knew my bank manager by name and they helped me get a house lone, organize my business, and set up different passthrough accounts to make my life simpler and safer.
This bank had one teller and a security person.
I waited in line, passed my slip to the teller, and waited while she corrected my entry and gave me what I needed.
During those ten minutes, several people walked up to the ATM, took care of their transaction, and left.
An ATM or a drive through ATM would have been quicker - but when did we prefer interacting with machines over people?
You know - I lied.
I was in a bank a month ago.
I’ve been trying to cancel one of my credit cards for more than a year. I’ve tried online. I’ve called the number. I’ve sent email.
I don’t use the credit card anymore. I haven’t made a purchase with it for more than seven years. I just want to cancel it.
When I was in California I walked into one of their banks. I explained what I wanted to do. Well, the teller told me, she didn’t handle that sort of thing. I should come back in a week or two and talk to a manager.
I’m finding this more and more. As we interact more and more with machines, the people either aren’t available or aren’t that helpful.
Take my money
I walked into an Apple Store the other day to buy an Apple Pencil Pro.
I was already aggravated because I’m spending money on something that I likely left on a trip somewhere or in my couch cushions or in a bag. I’ve looked for a month and can’t find it.
I walk in the store and immediately find what I need.
In the old days you could walk up to any of the many employees and they would either take your money or walk you over to someone who would.
Nope.
I walked up to two employees who were chatting with each other and having a good time and asked to pay.
One of them directed me to Luke at the pickup table. He was the one person I could pay.
Luke had a line of four people waiting for him after he was done with the current customer.
I asked if there was another way I could pay. They said no, Luke would be available soon.
I left my item with them and left the store.
Now, it seems, I could have paid for the item using the Apple Store app and one of them should have told me that and perhaps showed me how.
They went back to chatting with each other. I left the store with a sour feeling about the current state of Apple retail.
I longed for the days when someone cared enough to refill my water, ask me how my meal was, and took my money.
Epilogue
Usually my essay would end there but I had lunch at the River Cafe on Prince’s Island Park in Calgary.
Two dishes caught my eye. There was a fish and game board that looked good but the Red Lentil Hummus came highly recommended.
I asked the waitress and she was outstanding.
She told me the Red Lentil Hummus was very good but it was meant for sharing and that if I ordered that my lunch would just be one note.
I thanked her and said, unfortunately it was only me for lunch. I sighed and thanked her and ordered the fish and game board.
She winked and said, let’s see if we can get the hummus to be one of the dishes on the board.
Sure enough when it arrived there was a tiny ramekin with the red lentil hummus and it was the perfect amount and went well with the other items.
I watched as this waitress worked the same magic at every table around me. I saw her take a phone from a child at the next table and enter the wifi code so that he could stay occupied while his family enjoyed their meal.
This was exactly what I needed today. The meal was great, the service was perfect, and the experience was even more than the sum of its parts.
Essay from Dim Sum Thinking Newsletter 330. Read the rest of the Newsletter or subscribe