TGI Friday's, again

Every few months, I go back to the TGI Friday's in Herndon, VA. This is done partly because it's what passes for a reasonable restaurant in northern Fairfax County (grim, eh?) and partly for entertainment value.

Elsewhere on this site I have information posted about the kind of experience one tends to have at this Friday's. It's always fun to see what will happen next.

Most recently, I went on a Sunday evening. When we entered the virtually-empty restaurant (most people have learned to avoid it), The Simpsons was playing on every TV in the place. I took this to be a good sign.

We watched the end of The Simpsons, including one commercial break. They then changed the TVs over to football, and the waiter -- who'd been MIA all this time, presumably watching The Simpsons somewhere -- came to take our order.

Drinks arrived fairly quickly. Dinner did not. Two Cokes and two glasses of water were emptied, and we had yet to see our waiter or our food.

I'd forgotten to keep track of the time, but in any event ten minutes of game time had passed in the football game before our food showed up.

Ten minutes. If you are unfamiliar with American football, that won't mean much to you. Americans like to complain about the slow pace of cricket and baseball, but neither of those games have anything on American football for lethargic pace. Football games stop for "TV time outs", so the TV people can show advertisements. They stop for a little conference on the field after every play. They stop for frequent injuries, which are treated as if they're something unexpected.

Professional American football games, composed of four 15-minute quarters and one 15-minute break at halftime -- take about three hours to play. Figure then that for each minute of play, there's almost another minute and a half of screwing around.

So that 10-minute game-time wait meant at least 25 minutes of actual time. Add to that the fact that there was an injury (which occasions another commercial break, and long, silent shots of a professional athlete covered in space-age armor, who is nevertheless prone and motionless in the middle of the field while the medics rush in) early in the first quarter, and you're talking about over 30 minutes.

Between ordering and getting our food, two sandwiches.

In a mostly-empty restaurant.

We asked to see the manager, and, after a while, he appeared. He explained that the problem was one with their new computer system, and that our check had not actually been sent to the kitchen until thirty minutes after we'd ordered. He said our food would be out shortly.

Indeed it was. I then asked our waiter what had happened. It's amazing how much information you get by simply asking the same question of two different people.

The problem was, in fact, with the computer system, but it wasn't as simple as the manager had led us to believe. The previous party at our table had used a coupon -- probably given in accommodation for bad service -- as part of their payment. This requires the manager's approval; subsequent orders for the same table will not be processed until the manager gives the OK for the coupon. Our waiter said that he'd had some difficulty locating the manager. Since this was in a mostly-empty restaurant, and since the manager is a fairly large guy, I assume that he must have been getting high out in the alley or AWOL in some other way.

Anyway, I don't care what the problem was. The reason I am willing to pay Friday's $20 for $7 worth of food is not to have to worry or think about the logistic challenge of preparing dinner. What they are selling, ostensibly, is convenience and freedom from trouble. What they deliver instead is inconvenience and trouble.

Computer problems, kitchen on fire, run out of food: all of these are not my problem. All of them are unacceptable for a business that effectively sells nothing except service.

So all of this points to a few customer service lessons:

First of all, there should be no condition under which a specific employee's participation (in this case, the manager's approval) should be required to serve customers in a normal fashion. None whatsoever, including in situations that arise from previous transactions.

Second, there's absolutely no excuse for nobody noticing the developing problem, and circumventing the failing system. When cash-bearing customers are waiting and your business process prevents you from serving them, your business is in trouble.

Third, when you have failed the customer so completely, you apologize profusely and do anything in your power to attempt to get them to give you another chance. You do not blame the computers and discount half of the meal, as the manager did in this case.

Me, I'm amazed that T.G.I. Friday's is still in business, particularly at this location. Next week, maybe I'll talk about market inefficiencies.