Thursday, February 20, 2003
Call Me a Luddite, But I Say Palm Pilots Must Die
Posted by Jason Dunn in "THOUGHT" @ 04:22 PM
This amusing little article highlights one important point: technology should never overtake common sense or customer service.
"We arrive at the trendy new restaurant 10 minutes after our reservation time. We wait at the door, bundled up in winter coats. No one looks our way for another 10 minutes. Finally, we are informed that our table isn't ready (don't worry, I haven't turned into a cranky restaurant reviewer), and we are ushered into "the bar," which is really just a low-slung bench along a wall.
We pile our coats into a mountain of Gore-Tex and wool that immediately whooshes onto the slushy floor. Whatever. We need drinks. A round of vodka mojitos, please. Hello? Finally, we manage to flag down the waitress, a tanned, sweetly smiling blonde with no peripheral vision. Could we have a round of vodka mojitos, please? She holds her hands up helplessly. "So sorry, but I can't get you a drink. I don't have a Palm Pilot," she says, as though she were informing us of some obvious and terrible disability, a disability so crushing that it prevents her from turning and taking three steps to the left to the service bar and speaking with the bartender."
"We arrive at the trendy new restaurant 10 minutes after our reservation time. We wait at the door, bundled up in winter coats. No one looks our way for another 10 minutes. Finally, we are informed that our table isn't ready (don't worry, I haven't turned into a cranky restaurant reviewer), and we are ushered into "the bar," which is really just a low-slung bench along a wall.
We pile our coats into a mountain of Gore-Tex and wool that immediately whooshes onto the slushy floor. Whatever. We need drinks. A round of vodka mojitos, please. Hello? Finally, we manage to flag down the waitress, a tanned, sweetly smiling blonde with no peripheral vision. Could we have a round of vodka mojitos, please? She holds her hands up helplessly. "So sorry, but I can't get you a drink. I don't have a Palm Pilot," she says, as though she were informing us of some obvious and terrible disability, a disability so crushing that it prevents her from turning and taking three steps to the left to the service bar and speaking with the bartender."
