Chick-fil-A’s invasion of Manhattan is more than just a test of its tasty-but-greasy chicken sandwiches in the nation’s most foodie metropolis.
It’s also a trial of the fast-food chain’s easy going Southern hospitality in the planet’s most rushed city.
As a former over-achieving, goofy-smiled busboy, I’ve been pondering the deeper meaning behind this mashup.
I know we consumers are supposed to value warm customer service. But is that still true when your stomach is growling, you’re overdue on the 63rd floor and you aren’t certain whether all this Southern smile stuff is genuine? Could it be that in some places friendly chit-chat is bad – or at least not great — for business?
Chick-fil-A’s pre-launch preparations for its Busiest Restaurant Ever, which opened Oct. 3, included tweaking staff training specifically for its first stand-alone restaurant in the Big Apple. My interpretation of it: hospitality on a stopwatch.
Order takers and cashiers for the new three-story restaurant are New Yorkers, not transplants from the company’s home in metro Atlanta.
“We had to teach them not to go South, but teach them the things that make our hospitality special,” said David Farmer, the chain’s vice president of menu strategy and development.
Managers sought people who were naturally Chick-fil-A-ish, but who wouldn’t come off as fake Little Miss Sunshines. Then they gave them advice specific to New York customers (nearly 80 percent of visitors in the restaurant’s first couple days had never visited a Chick-fil-A before).
Staffers were told to try extra hard to read the faces and body language of guests. If they look rushed, be courteous, but abbreviate the friendly and skip trying to learn more about them.
“If you are in a hurry, you don’t want that,” Farmer told me.
Apparently Chick-fil-A’s read on the need for speed is right on target.
Consumers in the northeast put less weight on friendly service in deciding where to eat, according to Technomic, a national food service and restaurant consultant.
Does friendliness matter?
At my request, a Technomic executive scanned some of the firm’s survey data and found this: almost 44 percent of Southern consumers listed staff friendliness as very important. Just 37 percent of consumers in the Northeast said the same.
I’m betting there would be an even more striking difference in Manhattan.
Chick-fil-A certainly knows how to handle a rush, even in Atlanta. But in New York, the pressure is greater, because of the time-constraints of area workers and because the restaurant is designed to handle big crowds without the benefit of a drive-thru.
Chick-fil-A says the operation has already blown past the chain’s record for peak hour traffic, with customers frequently lined up for a half hour outside the store. So far, the chain says it’s been happy with customer feedback about both speed and hospitality.
I suspect, though, that it’s an uneasy balance. Especially for Chick-fil-A, an odd bird in the fast food world.
A few years ago the company dialed up national attention – some of it deeply critical – for the anti-gay marriage comments of Chick-fil-A’s now CEO, Dan Cathy. (The recent New York opening attracted a small protest by gay rights and animal rights activists, which strikes me as an odd combo, but I suppose there is something to be said for protest efficiencies.)
The chain stands out for other reasons as well. It aims to serve up a side of hospitality with its signature chicken sandwiches.
Chick-fil-A cashiers ask for customers’ names when they take orders. They’ve been trained to use the phrase “My pleasure,” which founder Truett Cathy heard while at a posh Ritz hotel and promptly appropriated.
When I stopped to eat at a Chick-fil-A near my home in metro Atlanta recently, a dining room attendant swapped out the fresh daisy on my table, thinking I’d prefer a rose instead. I did mention this is fast food, right? By the way, how many fast-food giants even have someone stationed full-time out where we stuff our faces?
Still, the cashier who took my order wasn’t particularly friendly, so it’s not like Chick-fil-A has figured this all out.
My busboy days
This reminds me of my days as a busboy at a rib joint and, later, at an all-you-can-eat dinner theater. I focused on being polite and offering a warm smile and impressive dish-clearing speed. I practically jogged to get to tables.
Looking back, I think I see things more clearly. Which is unfortunate. I now remember politely offering to fill water glasses, picking them up with hands splattered with someone else’s half eaten food. Being gross messes up all the other stuff.
In most service industries, I’m told, primo customer service is good business.
Even modest improvements can add an average of 2.5 percent more revenue a year over three years, said Bruce Temkin, the managing partner for Temkin Group, a consultant that surveys thousands of consumers in various industries.
In the restaurant business, the three biggest sins that customers say deter them from returning are unfriendly service, long wait times and inaccurate orders, according to Technomic.
But consumers will sacrifice friendliness if it means getting fast and accurate order, Technomic executive Mary Chapman told me.
I suppose that might explain why great customer service is still pretty spotty for plenty of businesses.
It’s nice, though, to see companies trying hard to treat us well and profiting in the process.
Chick-fil-A, the nation’s eighth largest fast food chain, has average per-store sales way above any of its biggest rivals.
See, it does pay to be nice.
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