I suppose I have to give it to Whole Foods’ slick marketing gurus – it’s a genius of an idea. Practically force someone to donate to the charity of the week by manipulating the controls of a psychological Playstation.

Whole Foods Market has a reusable bag refund. It’s like nothing. 10 cents per bag. Bring three bags, it’s still only 30 cents. But hey, you are getting some kind of reward for being green, no matter how small, right?

You’re checking out, and the cashier looks at you meaningfully, and says, “would you like to donate your reusable bag credit to X Children’s Hospital?

You’re now standing there, being looked at expectantly by people in line and by the cashier. And it’s only 30 cents. And it’s not even like you have to dig in that pocket for your 30 cents. You don’t technically HAVE that 30 cents – it’s a bonus.

You pause.

In that pause you already feel the people in line staring.

Irritated, but feeling pressured, you say, in a small, squeeky, and 100% insincere voice, “sure.”

You are irritated because you know that this children’s hospital is part of an extremely WELL FUNDED, MAGNET HOSPITAL SYSTEM THAT CONSTANTLY GETS IN TROUBLE FOR NOT PROVIDING ENOUGH CHARITY CARE AND PROVIDES PISS POOR CARE TO UNINSURED AND UNDERINSURED FOLKS.

*ahem*

Then you think, “well, I’m sure the extortion is temporary. I’m sure next time I come it’ll be a different charity, or this one will be over.”

And yet, go back two weeks later and you’re asked the same question, in exactly the same circumstances. People staring at you expectantly again, meaning no matter how you phrase it, people will hear your refusal in this way:

NO. I don’t want to help sick children. I don’t give a crap about sick children, and I WANT MY GOD—N THIRTY CENTS. I’M SO FUGGING CHEAP I WANT MY MEASLY THIRTY CENTS OVER HELPING SICK CHILDREN.

How much of an ogre do you look like if you do say no?

Hospital system, you don’t need my freaking 30 cents. You know it, and I know it.

Genius. And pure evil.

I’m impressed, in a really, really annoyed way.

P.S. Dear Citizens, if you are looking for a charity you can trust to spend your dollars wisely, check out Charity Navigator. They rate charities by how they spend your dollars.

As your Czarina has said in the last post, life hasn’t stopped because she stopped blogging. No! In fact, she has been accumulating an entire eight months’ worth of customer service sucktitude that she is excited to share with you over the next couple of weeks, in the form of her 2009 Crud List.

The people, organizations or companies on the Crud List have committed real or imagined affronts to customer service, in the Czarina’s opinion (which is the only opinion that really counts.)

Without further ado, the first company to make the 2009 Crud List:

Neiman Marcus: Theoretically I could give NM a break, because all of retail is suffering. I used to work retail to put myself through grad school, and I can tell you it is brutal. I once had a woman scream at me for not holding a $40 skirt for her – she had not asked me or any other salesgirl to do so. She left it in the dressing room and wandered off after something shiny during a crazy markdown sale with lines to use the dressing room a mile long. So, of course, someone used that dressing room after the woman had left it and decided to buy that particular skirt. Rabid Skirt Woman was foaming at the mouth when she found it missing out of the dressing room. C’mon, lady. If you want it that badly, then keep it with you.

As a result of these experiences, the Czarina does not abuse retail help and takes a dim view of anyone who does. But I just can’t give NM any more leeway. I feel like I’ve been generous enough. Their downslide started way back here, with NM Online. Over the past year or so the bad customer service has leaked over into the Michigan Avenue store. I’ve walked in there, browsing their lovely purse department, and I have been alteratively ignored, assaulted by fragrance people (although this isn’t their fault, they’re like wandering minstrels over there), given the once over and assessed to be wanting in…oh, I don’t know, class?

This is a riot, because: hey, NM? Your sales are down. By like, a lot. Women’s Wear Daily says you are in pain along with Saks. I’m not going to dress up to go there when it’s 80 below. I’m going to look like a North Face wearing, frostbitten, Malemute wrestling, arctic explorer with Canadian Ugg ripoffs. At least Saks NYC had the courtesy to have a 70% off handbags sale, which resulted in practically a stampede. You have done no such thing.

In addition, NM is now also Bergdorf Goodman online. At first I thought this was great because I could use my NM charge and have things sent to me without paying the INSANE 10.25% SALES TAX THANKS TODD STROGER. WAY TO GO KILLING CHICAGO INDEPENDENT RETAIL. (As an aside, when I was shopping in LA this summer, I think the guy at YSL was about ready to pop out of his skin when I told him about our sales tax.)

I guess unsurprisingly, the customer service at BG Online was just as bad. They didn’t give me credit for something I had returned for the longest time because they had a shortened version of my name on the shipping label and my full name on the credit information. Because a nickname TOTALLY means a different person! It took me almost a month to get that resolved and I called every single day for about a week. And you know I have nothing better to do.

So to sum up: in person, NM’s customer service is crud. Online, it’s also crud. Guess what? I can get 99% of stuff I would ever get at NM elsewhere and probably for less. Some luxury companies understand that the days of the 5k handbag are over…at least for anyone who isn’t using bejeweled Charmin.

I really hope they learn their lesson. In a way it’s very sad that a place that was supposed to be all about the service now seems to be all about nothing.

For that, NM folks, you have the honor of being the Czarina’s first “C List” installment. Enjoy! Don’t forget your Ugg ripoffs when you’re out in the cold.

Maitre D’ at L’Idiot: Your usual table, Mr. Christopher?
Carlo Christopher: No, I’d like a good one this time.
Maitre D’ at L’Idiot: I’m sorry, that is impossible.
Carlo Christopher: Part of the new cruelty?
Maitre D’ at L’Idiot: I’m afraid so.

– LA Story (1991)

Dear Chef Carlson,

I’m so not into The New Cruelty.

Which is why I think the whole hoopla about the difficulty getting reservations at Schwa is so ridiculous. Chicago’s food reviewers love you, Chef Michael Carlson, and I know that Food and Wine magazine named you as one of the best new chefs for 2006. It’s theoretically cool that the chefs are to be your waiters as well.

However, there is a reason that chefs are chefs and waiters are waiters. You dudes need serious front-of-house guys. Why don’t you call Stephen Aspirino for ideas? Right now his attitude is less objectionable than yours. I do NOT find a chronically full voice mail box cool or edgy. Added to no call-backs from said voice mail (if one actually does get to leave a message), it enters into WTF territory.

I find this approach to chefery just stupid. While you will always have people who think such obstacles are a challenge and evidence that they are just soooper-cool to get a reservation at a cutting edge restaurant, these are the kowtowed victims of The New Cruelty and they deserve our sympathy. They don’t last. And if you want your restaurant to last, you better get off your butt and make ordinary folk with boring, ordinary cash feel welcome.

As one seasoned diner on Metromix said:

Let me preface this by stating that I have lived in the city for 15 yrs and have dined at most 3-4 star places in Chicago and many around the world. I have been to Tru, Trotters, Everest, mk, Spring, One Sixty Blue, Green Zebra, all of the Kleiner places, you name it. I know restaurants. …Regarding the “reservation” process - I had the suspicion we were bumped several times for their buddies or other people in their industry and it was confirmed after being there. Everyone (the other 10 people) all seemed to be more casual about the whole situation - they didn’t appear to have waited 3 months for their table (from overhearing conversations). Trust me, the people that were not his friends (we were literally sitting on top of everyone, so you heard everything), were not happy at all with their food, service, nor the experience.

As my dad, a small business owner, says, “You need your pots and pans business to stay in business.” Namely, your steady stream of customers who are loyal – but not necessarily glittery – are essential for longevity.

Well, Chef Rudy McRude, when Duchess J and I stopped by attempting to get a reservation you were admittedly not obnoxious but just admonished us to call the “reservation line” and said you couldn’t help us. Duchess J started complaining she’d tried that already and we told you we lived in your neighborhood (see “pots and pans” above). I was too busy reading in your face that you really would rather be in the kitchen than dealing with people. I accept the fact that chefs are chefs and their genius is in the kitchen. I would not expect them to be…oh, psychologists, for instance. Or marketers. So why don’t you accept it? Why do you think you can run a place without seasoned front of house people? I wouldn’t expect artists to be excellent business managers, and when I meet one that can actually balance a checkbook I’m astonished. Embrace your genius and limitations!

Trotter and his ilk (along with their chef-chasing hanger-ons) may love you now, but how often are they going to eat there? Admittedly I’m no one special. But I do have enough money to eat there. Repeatedly.

Oh well. Guess I’ll be going elsewhere.

No love,

Czarina

P.S. I think your presentation style looks like someone barfed on a plate. You probably could have spent a bit more time learning from Achatz in that regard.

Recently, The Washington Post published an article entitled, “Can Beauty Be Dangerous?”

The Czarina thinks that is an endlessly fascinating philosophical question, and we can talk about history, feminism, history of feminism, evolutionary biology, ecology, sociology, and many other fun topics for liberal arts and biology majors deep into the night in shabby coffee houses with bad art, over a too-toasted bagel.

However, it stops being a fun mental exercise when this happens:

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I’ve given a lot of thought to what I wanted to say about this topic.

I have spent the majority of my life perpetuating and accepting the belief that a formal education matters and that it’s worth the money. I still believe that. However, I also think that this belief is grounded in a system that largely doesn’t exist anymore: the educational system that generates the Renaissance man or woman and the trade school that uses mentorship as the foundation for building spectacular artisans.

I’ve prided myself on my general flexibility, resiliency, and adaptability. I went to a large state school for undergrad and was absolutely giddy with all the choices of majors. I got an excellent, well rounded liberal arts education from a good (and at the time, relatively cheap) Big Ten school. Because of my positive undergraduate experience, I was entirely unprepared for my graduate experience.

Like a lot of people, I hated the very idea of the GREs. I did okay, but my chosen field was very competitive and required at least 1400s on Verbal and Math to be considered – and I’m not exaggerating. This was not attractive to me as I didn’t test all that well due to math anxiety. Long story short, I found a graduate school that allowed me to use the subject test instead of the formal GREs. This was also a for-profit school.

While there were admissions standards in place, it was definitely not as competitive as some other schools. And during my five years in graduate school the quality of applicant took a nose dive – you no longer needed any experience in the field, stellar GPAs or an A average in your subject. The students started to get pulled up in front of the evaluation committees more often for not meeting standards, but were very rarely kicked out. The administration also expanded the school’s curricula to include many other, tangentially related fields that this school had no business holding itself out as an authority in. They changed the name of the corporation that owned my school and then started to increase the number of schools across the country with the same name. A woman from my workplace looked at me askance one day when I had been talking about my student loans and said, “They’re not doing any favors allowing you access to that much loan money.”

I was upset, and talked to her about how it was my decision to finance my private education through loans (it was), and that I knew that I’d be 80k in debt when I finished, but I was told that I would be able to make a living and pay it back. I also defended some of my more dedicated professors. Even the ones who shambled into class, looking like they might off themselves at any moment because they had to carry two or three part time jobs and were depressed about their own financial situation. She smiled indulgently, because she knew what I didn’t – the full time jobs with advancement potential just weren’t there (forget benefits) and they didn’t pay nearly as much as the admissions officers said they did.

Going out into the workplace, finally, I discovered after several years that the good jobs were indeed not there, savvy exploitation of new grads through contracts and non-compete agreements was rampant, and there simply wasn’t a salary level that would allow me to pay back 80k plus interest. One of my fellow students couldn’t afford to buy a place, or anything more indulgent for herself than a cup of Starbucks daily, because of loans. I took a teaching job at one of these chain schools and couldn’t stomach how the students were treated. They were treated as walking wallets, and with substantial disdain as to the quality of their education. While there were still decent profs working there, they were leaving in droves. I looked for other jobs and during one interview it became clear that I would be responsible for finding placements for the students who couldn’t find internships because the administration continued to admit too many students for too few internships. They would then play a game called ‘Fun With Statistics’ to make it look like the school’s placement rate was high.

I felt pretty alone in all this and ultimately ended up blaming myself for a stupid career decision.

Until I saw that the same thing is happening with culinary education.

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