I went to a newly-opened Mexican restaurant the other day to meet a friend for lunch. When we entered, I was expecting a nice hostess to say “hello”, take us to our table, and hand us some menus. Instead, we were greeted with some imposing automated ordering machines. I looked at my friend and asked him if he knew what to do. He shook his head “no” and then stepped forward to start pecking at the screen.
Meanwhile, a manager saw these inquisitive middle-aged men
jabbing their fingers into the machine and saw that we may need
assistance. She dutifully came over and
began to give us a tutorial on how one would go about ordering. I told her we had never been there before and
wanted to know what she would recommend.
She looked at me quizzically and seemed to recommend that I get with the
program and push the screen enough times properly to actually order
something. Fair enough.
The prices seemed pretty high for standard taco fare
(couldn’t I buy 3-4 large pizzas for this?), but we were past that point. The machine already had a nice tip in mind for
me, automatically applied it to the bill, and was prompting me to just tap a
credit card and get moving. As my card
registered with a beep, I was prompted to enter my cell phone number. When I complied, a text message buzzed with
the order number (telling me to pick up a table marker with the corresponding
number), my receipt, and a link to sign-up for some restaurant points system.
The manager brought us our drinks and told us our food would
be out shortly. One minute later, the
tacos were on the table. We ate. The manager came back out and asked us how
the food was. I told her it was
fine. She then made a heartfelt plea for
a 5-star Google review. I was
non-committal, but she showed me how easy it was to access the review page by
asking for my phone and pressing a card with a Google logo against it. Nothing happened. Once she discovered that I was an
unenlightened Android phone user, she gave up and told me to visit their
website when I had time.
For a tech person, this restaurant may have been
nirvana. It took the people component
largely out of the restaurant experience.
For me, it was a sure sign of the downfall of western civilization. These types of restaurants are not my thing.
I guess I should have done my own investigation and saw what
this new place was about before I went.
It had a non-corporate name, but my friend told me they had locations
all over the place in other states. He
had asked around and done his homework!
To the real estate front… this situation made me think about
how few landlord reports we get asked for nowadays when our tenants
vacate. We used to regularly get other
landlords contacting us to ask to see what type of tenants they were for us;
there was an importance to it! Like
homework, it wasn’t something that anyone really liked to do- it takes effort
to pick up the phone, track down the past landlords, send the required
information consent forms, get the questions answered, and look into housing
gaps in a landlord history. But, to me,
it might be the most valuable tool we have to assess incoming tenant quality
and identify red flags. Past landlords
will largely tell you how it is.
Like the restaurant business, property management
has always been a people business. If
tenant assessment is only done on a spreadsheet level, important (re: costly!)
things can be missed. Asking around and digging
in further than a credit score and criminal report can pay big dividends. Upfront effort can lead to the long-term
benefits of finding a great tenant for a smooth tenancy.
High-tech taco joints and algorithm property management can sound
good on paper. But smart landlords (and
restaurant owners) know that old-fashioned, low-tech people interactions can
prove to be the most vital component of repeat business and successful leases.
Happy Landlording!
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