Ray Lamontagne mentioned us in an article in Rolling Stone Magazine, so naturally, we got carried away and created our own cover.
Last week in our cliff-hanger to this week, we introduced a new section of the e-mail called “Letters to the Editor.” The actual reason we did it was because we got an e-mail called, “Dear Editor” (which we printed, it was the one about the Minnesota Twins.) And we get a fair amount of e-mail, most praising and some not-praising us (few go so far as to actually damn us. One lady did over Fall Festival because we weren’t serving bacon, but she did that in person and then apologized for it and hugged me.)
Here’s one of the more interesting criticisms we’ve gotten:
Glad I checked your menu before I went into your probama restaurant..All I wanted was some breakfast and heard good things about your place but looked at your menu and was disgusted by your political views..It doesnt mix well with food and will not give you any business and when capitalism ends you wont have to worry about profits anyways..Hope your presidents spending and the recession is treating you well.
I wrote him back and told him that I am a huge fan of capitalism (and cited my reasons why) and told him my thoughts on what I thought Obama was trying to do for small business and then I said I was being funny on the menu (with the Obamalette) and that I liked puns. (By the way, I later added on the menu: “And the great thing about the Obamalette is that it goes on your children’s tabs! You don’t even have to pay for it!”) He might have liked that part, but I don’t think he ever came back. It’s okay. We might not be for everyone.
When we get positive mail I usually write back, thanking the writer. When we get negative mail, I always write back because I think that information and idea exchange is a good thing, even when it begins with criticism.
The other day I got a letter in the mail and my initial reaction was to write back, much like I did with the guy who doesn’t like Obama; rationally explain my though process and to apologize for misunderstandings. But then I saw that, not only was there no return address, but the letter was un-signed, as well. And then I knew the truth:
This was my divine punishment for all the late-night e-mails I send to my bank. They were recently bought up by a larger bank, and, while their ad-writers claim to have the same great service, they really don’t and it shows up through their very un-customer-friendly website. (I explain that I still love all the live people who work in the branches, but I HATE their website and how in-convenient it is.) So I write them. Often. Late at night when I’m doing my on-line banking. The difference here is that they have ALL my information. (Plus, I sign my e-mails.) But the writer of the letter, I have no idea who it is, beyond that it was sent from Connecticut.
So, still with the burning desire to answer all negative mail, I am printing it herewith in its entirety, and will answer it.
Dear Elmer’s,
There is a disconnect between who Elmer’s is on paper and who Elmer’s is on person and it’s disappointing.
We visit my son in Ashfield frequently. We’ve come to Elmer’s for breakfast over the past 4 years and it’s good food…don’t get me wrong.
We signed up for the newsletter and always enjoy the fun writing and exchange between the owner, Nan and the fellow Rob who is the counter/barista person. When we are waiting for a table we have noticed all the good press that Elmer’s has received, proudly displayed here and there on the walls and counter
The waitresses are great.
This feedback is mostly for the owner and the counterman.
Sometimes the owner greets us (and she should recognize us by now) and sometimes she doesn’t. My son, who lives here says she is very erratic in who she deems worthy of a greeting and who she ignores. The folks who get the most effusive, welcome are 1. tourists (who are usually just passing through and might never return) 2. Locals from what she must consider the ”in crowd” ie those with money, social prestige because of their connection to the arts, media, academic or such, or maybe simply because of their longstanding tenure in town. There are local, regulars (like my son and others) that rarely get a personal greeting (except by the waitresses.) It’s a shame because he and his friends are the very type that will be eating breakfast there in January . . . in other words, it’s obvious to my son that the value of “regulars” who come year round (not just for foliage or music or festival) are the ones who real pay the bills in breakfast establishments around the world
Now on to the counterman. He is really funny on paper, but he is either very shy in person or just very grumpy….. but he rarely interacts in any warm, friendly way. He never seems to remember (regular) peoples names, we never get any glimpse of the humor that he uses in his writing… he just seems like he rather be somewhere else and he doesn’t like or care to get to know where he is.
So my advice. To the owner; Be democratic and consistent in your hospitality. Don’t just be welcoming to folks who you think might have read your publicity or to those that impress you somehow. Do try to hide your quest for fame it’s not becoming to you or your nice store. And thanks for removing so many of the insipid, bossy signs outside.
To the counterman. Lighten up. Learn some names and engage in conversation. Act like you are interested a little in the people who are paying your salary on a regular basis.
This is tough feedback. I’m sorry it if hurt but you are running a community store.
Thanks for the good food, the good humor in your writing and the hard work that must go into all that you do there. It’s really just little tweaking of attitude that’s needed.
Dear Person Who Mailed the Letter from Connecticut,
It’s been about two weeks since I got your letter and I’m still not sure what I want to say here. In my greeting of people, I don’t think I could be much goofier. I do have to admit something, however, and that is a terror of not recognizing people. People come in every week and I know I know them; I know I probably even know their names. I KNOW that I know many of their names and when I look up from that counter I totally freak out. Sometimes I’ll hazard, “James!” and there is an absolute eternity that goes by before I see in their face that I either have it right or that I do not at all. Lord knows I’m trying, but maybe it’s just too many faces and too much information to retain. Maybe I’ll know in several years if I end up with Alzheimers what the problem was, but whatever it is, it’s really scary.
Here’s problem number two: Sometimes I realize that I have greeted someone in a large way and I have thus embarrassed them. I realize that I play completely off the proverbial “energy” of the person walking in the door. If I feel they’re up to it, I’m larger than I am with someone I think really doesn’t want that much attention. I try to be quiet with quiet-seeming people, but I don’t think I ignore anyone. Sometimes people come in and I think, “Rut-roh, do I know this person, or do they just look like someone I know?” And, in that case, rather than erring in the wrong direction, I go middle-of-the road and try to be pleasant, but not make the person think, “Why is she acting so friendly to me? I don’t even know her!”
Restaurant-owning is a lot more stressful than you thought.
I’m sorry I haven’t made your son feel welcome. You are the second person ( . . . . or, maybe the same one) who has told me that their son says I’m unpleasant. So I’m thinking it’s something I have with sons. Little sons, I can goof around with all day. From about the age of 13 through 45, I always get the awkward feeling that they think I’m a pure-tee idiot so I mostly just try to make sure they’re content and comfortable and getting something to eat. But ignore them? I’m not ignoring them. Just trying not to offend them.
The only actual ignoration would happen if
One or more of the staff is moving to Iowa or going back to school next week and I have no one yet to replace them
We’re out of coffee
We’re out of eggs
“ “ “ hot water
The furnace is broken
The cooler is broken
It’s still icy outside and people are coming in
A baby is pitching a fit and the people around him are not baby-people
We’re out of orange juice
The cook just cut his finger
The dishwasher forgot he had a soccer game
We’re out of napkins
“Every week?” You ask dryly. “Every day,” I say honestly. Sometimes I think about sponsoring a “Manager for a Week” contest and see who lasts the longest.
And the part about my not appreciating locals. I spend more time awake at night than you have slept in your whole life trying to figure out how to show locals how much I appreciate them. I’m thinking that most of them know it. Let me know who you are if you don’t! Because I do!
As for Rob, he is very shy in person and sometimes he does get grumpy. The stress of making lattes for 200 people while ringing all of them up at the same time on a Sunday morning means being at a heightened state of alert for six hours without a break. I also watched him Sunday before last in the middle of huge rush, explaining to an elderly lady how the credit card machine works. Extraordinarily patient with the walls of the customer sea bearing down on him. How to put the waitress tip in. Where to sign the ticket. “What? Where do I sign it? Do I sign this one? Where does the tip go? On this one? Oh. On this one. How much should I tip?” Very sweetly. She never knew the crush of customer impatience that was lining up behind her because Rob was protecting her from it. I was proud of him.
So in review: I don’t know that I can be consistent in my hospitality. I try to just be happy with everyone.
As for hiding my quest for fame, restaurants post their good publicity. That’s why we’re here—there’s got to be some reward, because it’s certainly not in the finances. People like us. Yea!
As for the insipid bossy signs, outside. . . . you mean the ones that say, Watch out for snow and ice sliding off the roof from 25 feet above that will kill you? Or the ones that the animal-caring people asked me to put up to remind people that keeping an animal in a car with the windows rolled up in the heat will kill the pets? Either way, someone is going to die and I don’t want to have it happen at my place.
Finally, yup, there is an awful lot of hard work that goes into all that we do here. Thanks for recognizing that.
Nan
Hey y’all, send us some more letters to the editor! This is fun!
