Two weeks ago, I went to a Friendly’s without atrocious service. The waitress was attentive but did not hover. She refilled our sodas with minimal prompting. The food came out before another ice age could come along. I thought I had witnessed a miracle in humble Hanover, Massachusetts.
It appears those orders came from corporate HQ.
“Most people were rehired. Some couldn’t make the journey with us and were not brought back,” Maguire said. “It’s all about the experience. If there is a single time that a customer comes to Friendly’s and doesn’t have an exemplary experience, then none of this will. help. None of this was worth it if each and every customer experience is not positive.”
However, I am profoundly grateful that the waitress did not introduce herself as a “memory-maker.” Laughing that hard would have made it impossible for me to eat my perfectly standard BLT.
As a New England native, I have a soft spot for the humble ice cream parlor. My go-to is Rhode Island’s own Newport Creamery. My Mom took me there as a reward if I got a perfect score on my weekly spelling test in elementary school. I’d love going with Mimi and my brother because they’d both give me the maraschino cherry off their sundaes. And the Awful Awful is miles better than a Fribble. A Fribble? It sounds like a Furby with chronic drooling.
As a child of the ’80s, it saddens me to see these places I loved as a kid and hung out in late at night as a teenager struggle. Kids these days are hanging out at Panera Bread, what with their free WiFi and cozy color palates. When they’re not there, they mosey over to Pinkberry for some kind of probiotic treat. Whatever. Pinkberry won’t make your cup into a clown sundae like the Creamery or Friendly’s, kids. They don’t care about you.