They've been spending most their lives livin' in an Amish Paradise

This past weekend, I traveled to the heart of Amish country for the wedding of Rich's friend from college. After a lovely wedding, reception, and after-hours party in the hotel lobby on Saturday night, a group of Rich's friends all decided to meet for brunch on Sunday morning. After a bit of a search (apparently Sunday brunch is unheard of out in farm country), we discovered what appeared to be a quaint, family-style restaurant with a sign that listed "Breakfast, Lunch and Dinner." It seemed like the perfect destination for a delicious breakfast.

As we approached the front door, we were appalled by a sign declaring that NO breakfast was served on Sundays. Bewildered, we debated whether to find another restaurant, but decided in the end that we could, if we must, skip straight to lunch. It was just before 11:00 a.m. when our party of 10 (plus baby Jack) was seated.

We opened our menus, and after a moment, began to look around at each other in confusion. The only items on the menu were full dinners: turkey, roast beef, fish filets... all served with mashed potatoes and gravy, plus your vegetable of choice. None of us one could imagine eating this kind of meal so early in the day, but we felt stuck.

As we tentatively made our selections, I quickly grabbed the kids' menu that had been placed in front of Jack and asked the waitress if I could order a grilled cheese. The waitress hesitated, eyed Jack (who was happily mashing a banana with his fists), and wrote down my request.

Sensing an opportunity, Jack's grandmother pointed to the kids' menu and whispered "Can I see that?" The waitress stopped her in her tracks. "I only let her ::points accusingly in my direction:: order from the kids' menu because the baby isn't ordering any food." Disheartened, Jack's grandmother ordered a bowl of beef barley soup.

Our orders taken, the waitress brought over a basket of rolls that can best be described as mini hot dog buns. Since there didn't appear to be enough to go around, Radu flagged the waitress back to the table.

Radu: "Excuse me, can we have another basket of rolls?"

Waitress (visibly confused): "How... many... do you want?"

Radu: "Uhhh, about 4 or 5?"

Waitress: "Baskets?!"

Radu: "Noooo... rolls."

The waitress spun off, still looking way too confused for such a simple request. She returned a few minutes later and reported that each additional roll would cost $0.40. Astonished, Radu jokingly told her to put it on his tab. She had no idea what to think, but did bring the additional rolls a few minutes later.

Needless to say, the meal was almost unbearable for everyone except me with my grilled cheese, Jack with his banana, and Jessica, who ordered a piece of pie. Rich (who would eat breakfast for every meal of the day if he could) seemed to be gagging with each bite of mashed potatoes and gravy, and others at the table were seen to be picking at their string beans, glazed carrotts and potato croquettes (actually, those looked kinda good, probably because they most closely resembled home fries).

Since we were the only people in the restaurant without white hair and a checking account at the New Holland Savings and Loan, I guess I can cut the place a little slack for not knowing what to do with a bunch of "city" people. But no breakfast on Sundays? When breakfast is offered EVERY other day of the week, why deny it on Sundays? Is the restaurant really losing money by keeping some extra pancake batter on hand for one more day? There have got to be enough tourists, wedding attendees and people under 80 years of age to take advantage of a home-cooked country breakfast on Sunday. I know they've got to offer "dinner" at 10a.m. for the old people who have been up since 4a.m., but what about the rest of us?

Okay, so they really have something against breakfast on Sundays. Fine. What's the deal with only allowing one "baby waiver" per table? If someone else had had a baby at the table, would two people have gotten to order a kids' meal? Why not just charge for an adult meal and allow people to at least eat what they want?

The extra-bread-charge was the last straw for me. In a restaurant with no more than two elderly people at the same table, a party of 10 might be a rare occurance, but the waitstaff should also know that a big party means a big check, and thus, big tip! Why nickel and dime us for something as insignificant as bread? It's almost like we were unwelcome houseguests where the hostess was just being polite by offering food, when all she really wanted us to do was leave.

Because I feel kind of bad bashing this small-town restaurant, I'm going to leave out the name (which contained an Apostrophe Catastrophe, I might add), but I'm giving a solid check minus.

Service that should be copied

I'm sure anyone who works in an office, like me, is plagued by the fear of technology failing at inopportune moments. In my office, our printer is notoriously finicky. This is a major problem for me since I provide all sorts of printed materials to co-workers and customers. So when the printer fails, I kind of panic.

Each time my sweaty palm picks up the phone to call Xerox for service, I get through to a real person in record time (never more than 30 seconds on hold), provide only minor details about the problem I'm experiencing, and am promised a callback from my local technician within an hour. This swift, simple process never fails to calm my nerves. I practically expect the person on the other end of the phone to sense my anxiety and coo in a motherly tone, "There, there. It's going to be okay. We'll make your printer good as new! Now, how about a cookie?"

The amazing thing about that promised callback is that it actually happens. The local technician quickly calls me back to get a few more details about the problem, and schedules a time within the next 24 hours when he can come check it out. He either arrives on schedule or calls me to let me know he'll be late, and he stays until the machine is fixed. If he's not able to fix the problem on the spot, he either returns quickly with a missing part, or tells me exactly what the holdup us, what he's going to do about it, and when he's going to do it.

The only time I was momentarily dissatisfied with Xerox's service is when I thought the technician was playing music on his laptop while he was working (in the middle of the office!!). Turns out, what I heard was hold music - the technician was actually on hold with another specialist, and had turned his speakerphone on so he could do something else while he was waiting. A service technician multitasking?! Sure provides a stark contrast to the laziness of other companies' technicians, as reported, and videotaped by some consumers.

Although I will always harbor a simmering grudge against the temperamental machine itself, I can't help but be impressed with the service Xerox delivers. Check plus for Xerox!

Cross-train your brain

Preface #1: This post might stretch the definition of customer service, but I feel that the line between customer service and marketing is a bit blurred in some situations, so I'm going with it.
Preface#2: I love Healthworks. LOVE.

In the lobby of my gym (Healthworks in Cambridge, which I'm mildly - okay, completely - obsessed with), there is a huge bulletin board with the weekly class schedule posted. It doesn't change very often, but there are occasionally other flyers and signage on the board about new classes, new instructors and other gym-related news. As I walked in yesterday, I noticed a new sign announcing the Memorial Day weekend class schedule. As an addict of heart-pounding group sweat-fests like Urban Rebounding, Body Express and Power Abs, I decided to check out the schedule to see which of the weekend's offerings would best fulfill my masochistic need to inflict (deliciously) severe pain on my body.

What I found very strange was that the sign listed classes that were cancelled for the weekend. This meant that in order to find out what classes I could take, I had to look up at the huge bulletin board, find a class I was interested in, and then refer back to the single-spaced, 12-point font list of cancelled classes to see if my class made the cut. This struck me as incredibly ineffecient and kind of lazy. With a tiny bit of extra effort, whoever made the sign could have simply created a list of classes that were still on the schedule. Instead, something intended to be helpful and informative ended up as a confusing and time-consuming mess. Because I would probably give up my firstborn child for this beautiful, clean, spa-like facility, I'll let this one go... check for Healthworks.

It's chocolate, it's peppermint - it's delicious!

This past weekend, I went to the lovely Entertainment Cinemas at Fresh Pond for a showing of the new Tina Fey movie "Baby Mama." After buying tickets and finding a seat, I returned to the lobby to find some snacks. As I stood in line contemplating the selection in the glass case in front of me, I noticed a conspicuous absence of Junior Mints. Blast! As my turn approached, I vainly searched for a sufficient alternative. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a plethora of Junior Mints in an another case, approximately 10 feet away. Catastrophe averted - just in time for me to step to the counter and make my selections.

Me: "Hello. I'd like a box of Junior Mints. I see you're out here but I think there are some in that case over there."

Cashier (snarky): "Yes, but they're over there."

Me (confused): "Um, yes. Can I have some please?"

Cashier (sighing, suddenly exasperated): "I can't leave the cash register." ::points to register::

Me (looking around, seeing no one else in line behind me): "Ummm.."

Cashier (rolling eyes): "You have to go over there." ::points to adjacent register::

For the extra few seconds it would have taken the cashier to explain up front that she couldn't leave the register, she would have saved herself from feeling frustrated and me from feeling utterly confused. Another obvious option would have been for the cashier to ask her fellow snack counter attendant to pass her a box of Junior Mints. Unfortunately, none of these things happened, but at least I didn't miss the previews. Check minus for Entertainment Cinemas Fresh Pond.