Wednesday August 18, 2004

A taco full of details

This evening I went to a popular fast food restaurant, something I do far too often to try to keep up with my own pace. Usually the food is acceptable, as is the service. But today was different somehow.

The service was fantastic! The manager took my order, and though I had the money ready, he took off immediately to start making my drink. Clearly he was concerned with getting my meal ready as quickly as reasonably possible.

I then dealt with the assistant manager. He stepped up only seconds after the manager left. A well oiled machine, these two. He took my money and made change efficiently and accurately. Nice work! I almost expected to find the rest of them changing my tires and wiping my windshield, should they be as thoughtful and efficient as the pair I had already dealt with.

Before I could even put my change away, another member of this crack team had assembled my meal and was verifying my number to be sure that their quick work didn't go inadvertently to the wrong person. Unbelievable! "I am definitely coming back here!", I thought.

And then it happened. Of course. I bit into my taco and realized that if I let it sit for several minutes, it might warm to room temperature. Man! And I was really excited about my experience so far. But on the last step to locking in a truly memorable experience, everyone fell down clumsily in a heap, flopping about like so many fish out of water.

I was pretty disappointed, but didn't really want to say anything. Not that I had nothing to say, but I couldn't choose the most appropriate way to handle the situation. Here are a couple of my thoughts at the time - you will see what I mean...

1. "You might want to have someone check the breaker that your microwave is on..."
2. "I have GOT to get your recipe! I had no idea that you could freeze tacos!"
3. "I special ordered my taco with no ice."
4. "What kind of gloves do you guys wear? Do they protect you from hot things as well?"

I simply couldn't decide on the most appropriate course of action at the time. I mean, given these four possibilities that came to me immediately, can you blame me just going ahead as if nothing was wrong? Unfortunate for the chef. I left him with no idea what had happened. I'm asking you to check your work if you are a chef in a taco eatery. Please.

Isn't this so often the case? Most of the experience is somewhere between acceptable and fantastic, but one little detail is overlooked and it really does affect your perception? It brings the whole affair down to the level of memorable for all the wrong reasons. All that work and good intentions to achieve the same lousy feeling of malaise that you ordinarily might get if they didn't even try. In the end you are sitting there unhappily wrapped around a frozen taco trying to think warm thoughts.

It's like watching a close football game (yes, as an American, that would mean the type of game where feet are almost never involved) in which a strong young athlete kicks an amazing field goal. You think he managed to win the game by just a point or two when the camera zooms in to reveal that it wasn't the ball that made the triumphant journey, but his shoe instead. The ball rests less than a yard from the player's bare foot.

Details matter. In everything.