A handful of clouds stretched awake as they lay across the early sky. Then came a light breeze that whispered of cooler temperatures and the promise of softer sunsets. It was a morning when it seemed prudent to button your coat, but far wiser to leave it open. There was a lightening sky of potential that left a man unburdened of his obligations and invigorated him with wishes and possibilities.
And yet, as I stood in line at the local quick-serve restaurant, there was no breeze, no potential. Instead, there was only: “You want a frozen what, now? What is that—and how much does it cost?”
[Editorial: Celebrate Your Corporate Rituals]
A little context: I’m not a coffee drinker. I will have the occasional coffee drink, but the actual coffee part of the beverage is basically an afterthought drowned in syrup, whipped cream, and other sugar-infused ingredients. It is rare to find me in any coffee-themed QSR, so I don’t have a go-to elixir for these places. I also need to review my seasonal choices. Do I want something with pumpkin or peppermint or suntan lotion flavoring?
In other words, I’m going to need a minute. And a menu.
On this particular morning, I decided to take my kid out for a special before-school outing. There was supposedly some seasonal treat she just had to have. I’m reasonably sure it was the same thing they always served, just decorated with different frosting or sprinkles or whatever, but the heart wants what it wants.
To go with that very exclusive confection, she wanted some sort of caramel-flavored iced latte drink. Again, no idea what she was talking about, so I looked up at the menu. It wasn’t there. In fact, almost nothing was there.
[Editorial: All Signage Points to Growth]
Turns out their digital menu board had malfunctioned. Of the four panels spread across the upper wall, only one was working properly. If my kid wanted a chai latte or a handful of other beverages, I was totally in the know with pricing and even calorie counts. Unfortunately, neither her drink nor her treat was on the working panel, so I was flying blind. Luckily, she knew the proper names of her choices and the worker behind the counter was able to fill the order.
Two of the other panels had promotional videos on display, but it was as if each panel was only showing one-quarter of its actual message, so you could only see bits and pieces. The panel on the far right was even worse: It was displaying a computer screen that looked like someone needed to press a button and reboot the whole system.
In technical terms, the digital menu board content management system at this QSR was wonky. Maybe it was an easy fix, or maybe the CMS had been seriously compromised. Either way, its poor performance made it difficult for customers like me to consider alternatives or additions to their orders (read: lost business).
[Editorial: Back to the Classroom]
I would guess that most people who frequent a QSR know what they want, no matter what time of day (or season) they visit. However, not everyone has an order that’s locked and loaded. With today's sophisticated graphics, a digital menu board can be a fantastic upsell tool for indecisive diners. But only if it works.
