So, here I sit, as usual, at an outdoor cafe, typing away. Is all my free time spent sitting and typing, drinking decaf and grabbing too many free samples? Yes, I'm eating samples again. Today, it's a sliced pound cake, topped with berries and powdered sugar. Luckily, when I grabbed my piece, I got two, because the cut hadn't gone all the way through. I stowed them in the fold of the newspaper under my arm, and while the coffee was poured, I grabbed another. As soon as I got outside, and unfolded the paper, I could already see the rather large and intimidating grease spots forming across The New York Times theater listings. Somehow the grease spots make the photos of Laura Linney and Swoozie Kurtz just a little bit more People Magazine.
And, I'm not the only one with the samples, either. Everybody's doing it, though maybe not in my high style. Really, the pound cake isn't even especially good. I was hoping for their coffee cake. They make a good poppy seed coffee cake. I've sampled it here several times. I actually do better here with the samples than when I actually pick out an item and buy it.
Let's face it, the stuff here is hit or miss, but the samples keep me coming back. These days, it's all about gimmicks.
My parents buy the Entertainment Book every year. Y'know, that's the thick book of coupons, mostly for restaurants, usually a two-for-one deal. Nothing is more satisfying for a couple they are friends with, than to go out to dinner to one of these restaurants, with each couple using coupons. A sublime pleasure, indeed.
When I was a kid, the whole family often went to L.A. When my dad was there on a shoot. My first stop always had to be Ship's. I begged and moaned and rolled around the floor, until I broke down any resistance, and off we'd go to Ship's, sort of a real version of what Denny's models itself after. The large greasy spoon had rows of booths—no tables. And at each booth was a toaster, built into the edge of the booth. New visitors to Ship's might have wondered what the deal was with the toasters, had they been actually able to see them. See, when you walked into Ship's you were immediately assaulted with a cloud of smoke that made your eyes tear.
The gimmick at Ship's was that diners made their own toast. While at home, this was a chore and a nuisance, at Ship's making one's own toast tableside was as fun as going to Disneyland (my next stop, preceded by more moaning and rolling around on the ground). You got the slices of bead raw, if you will, and then the fun began. Inevitably, your bread would get stuck in the old, worn-out toasters, help would need to be called, smoke would begin to rise, and, well, fun was had by all. Plus, you got the added bonus of smelling like you'd just escaped a burning building, until you changed your clothes and showered.
At Scotty's a regular hangout for my family when we were young, kids got crayons, a placemat to color, and a pick from the treasure chest, which contained mostly plastic treasures, made in Japan. I remember none of the crappy little toys I got, but I vividly remember the time at the end of the meal, when my sister and I were allowed to approach the chest, open it up, and pick our crappy toy. We went there all the time.
Jack's was also a regular hang out. They had no crayons, but they did have a treasure chest. While Jack's is still there, the chest is gone, and I am a much less frequent customer, though I doubt I'd have the nerve to grab my now-made-in-China prize.
Today, the gimmick gets my folks into Lou Mitchell's on the western edge of the Loop. The greeter gives a free mini box of milk duds to all the women in line. My mom, who will forever be watching out for her now 41-year-old little boy, always asks me, 'Do you want me to ask her for a box for you?' I decline, but I really desperately want the Duds.
I'm a sucker for the coffee punch cards. You know—get a punch every time you buy a coffee drink, and somewhere around the tenth punch, your next drink is free. Yesterday, my partner got a free latté and it made my day.
Restaurant owners know that it's well worth giving away the occasional sample or free coffee, just to get people in the door; that's the hard part. Once inside, the customers buy just as much as they would have anyway. Everybody wins.
Now, excuse me, while I go inside to grab one more slice of cake.
