[Reader-list] Genre of a Parallel Cafe'

[khalid jamal]

We have parallel cinema, parallel security and so on. We can very well have Parallel Cafes’ in India, too, where there is diverse variety in food. On one hand, we have big multinationals in the form of fast food joints and on the other we have our very own Haldiram’s,Nathu’s and others, with yet another “genre” of food-space like coffee houses.

 

But we also have the culture of street food which I see, participate-in and read about, especially in books written by foreign authors, who often come as tourists.

 

And in all these places, you find a particular kind of work culture, space dynamics and a different feel, which clearly differentiates one from another, apart from the economics. 

 

In India coffee houses, for eg., service may sloppy and the décor shabby but the coffee is reasonably priced without the fuss of the trendier cafes like café coffee day or barista. You don’t see the orange-yellow combination walls with neon lights and English speaking workers in stripped uniforms. Instead you see, black and white photographs of Nehru, Gandhi and Indira adorning the white walls and waiters dressed in whitish uniforms. And they are waiters, No Relationship builders!! There are no ”complimentaries” and no free”smiles”.You pay for the coffee and that’s exactly what you get. No value addition. But you find things rather simple, as you find there is no long and winding menu of coffee types to choose from.There is no need to confuse your latte with your cappuccinos or your macchiato with your mocha. Coffee comes as coffee, no frills, no fancy names. And its delicious. After spending 4 or 5 rupees, you will certainly not complain!!

 

Oh, I am researching on fast food chains!!

So let’s talk about it.

 

I have been writing while working in these joints in Delhi. Before I write more let me present, for the sake of global perspective, some experiences of my friend Kate, who works for McDonald’s in New Zealand. She’s doesn’t seem to be very happy unlike her Delhi counterpart, say Lubna Khan.

 

This is what she has to say:

  

“A drizzling haze hangs over the deceptive cheerfulness of the building’s golden arches, a monument to greasy, guilt-laden food, and a haven for those who just can’t resist the fifth sandwich. Beckoning the unwary traveler are neon lights glittering in the drive-thru, resembling the hungry eyes of some great beast which is ready to devour his new victims with ferocious delight. Calmly approaching the building, I pause to look out onto the street; dreary shades of gray pavement and brown water squash my sudden urges for escape.

Dirty isn’t the word I’d use to describe the lobby, not after taking in the swarming flies, the smell of overfull garbage buckets, and swirls of dried mud creating an almost artistic design on the floors. Encrusted ketchup and other sauces decorate the tables I pass; trays covered with used, open napkins sit brashly on others, a reminder of customers who can’t be bothered to carry the tray to the garbage cans located conveniently by the door. 

Filthy places attract filthy people, and I watch as a child gleefully throws French fries on the floor, her mother unmoving, uncaring. God, I wish I could storm into her house and do the same, spatter ketchup on the walls with malicious glee, carve my name on her table with a penknife when I think no one is looking, or wad up my garbage and throw it on the floor in front of her. 

Hell, that’s what this is; hell for the yet-to-be-damned. It would take a four-armed angel to do what we’re expected to do, and angel who could stand phrases like ‘oh, and while you’re at it, could you add another four orders of burgers to that? Just a moment, I wanted them to be fries instead.’ Kid, I’d like to tell you where you could shove those fries, we already made the damned burgers you don’t want anymore.

Labor is a joke to some; I’d like to introduce them to working at the grill, bending over layers of grease plastering itself on your exposed skin, burning your fingers to the point of blistering. Mop all you want, the grease won’t come off the floor, just like it won’t get out of your hair; you’ll smell it in your sleep, you’ll taste it in the morning. No one has yet to escape the work dream, the one where the mechanical beeping to alert the employee of finished food never goes away. Oh, the beeping is the worst part, for it never stops and haunts the best of dreams, it damages your hearing without you even noticing, it crawls into the smallest corners of your mind and pops up once you finally get some peace. 

Part of the problem is the pay, not enough to really make an indent on that school bill, just enough to stave off the threat of just quitting right then and there. Quick, stop that trainee from leaving before we suck her in completely! Rats, too late, I guess I’ll be the only closer for the rest of my short-lived food service career. 

Sucks to be me, sucks even more to be working drive-thru, where people assume you are deaf and need to be yelled at, wait until they finish their cell phone call, or take that bucket of change as payment. Trucks are the worst of all; their hyped-up engines shriek into the earphone, producing instant earache; they should be banned for all eternity. United, I think we can made a firm stand to teach those soccer moms and overweight weekend warriors a lesson or two about the merits of small, quiet cars.

Vacillators are some of the worst; they hold up the lines of cars in the drive-thru, they quaver over the menu to the cashier. Would it not be an almost guaranteed snarky response of the next in line, I’d have a bit more patience with them. Xyloidic is what I’m becoming at home, too drained to do much else but zone. 

Yes, I hate my job. Zealously so, with a passion felt by my colleagues; perhaps we’ll rise up and start a rebellion against obnoxious customers, snappish managers, and really, really bad food.”

 

 

Well, no matter what people say, I found McDonald’s happening. As a worker, I experienced some kind of energy and penetration in whatever I did there. I always carried it with me. Be it my spotless uniform, or the “five second” rule which means if something falls on the floor, you pick it up in five seconds. Or all those engineered actions from the application of clockwise spiral squirts of ketchup and mustard to the placement of two pickles and a ring of onions on the burgers. I even had occasional dreams where the squirting of said condiments repeats endlessly throughout the night.

Well, they were dreams as long as I was on single shift and nightmares on doubles!!

 

I do not know if I am appreciating or critiquing the work that I did while carrying my research forward. As long as as I worked, I remained engaged and at the end of the day I wrote everything down. Now weather I wrote as a worker or as a researcher remains to be debated. I think I should be the part of that debate.

 

But I one thing is for sure, and was clearly apparent to me especially when I observed work at Nathu’s and Haldirams.Nothing happened on its own in Pizza Hut and McDonald’s.

 

“May I”, “can I” , “smile” , “excuse-me’s”, “have a good day”, “try this”, “extra cheese?”, “bigger?”, and several other “spontaneous” actions were well scripted in advance and rehearsed.

 

I view all the above as a preparations.Preparations to do good business,to bring customer back again, to empathize, to identify, and to relate with him.

 

It seems to me as if McD and other MNC’s, through their work culture tell the customer,”We are not Indian but we will go extra mile to serve you and show that we CARE”

 

I found this missing in our haldirams and nathu’s.

They seems to be saying,” Oh, we sell food. If you want to buy, come in, pay and take it.”

 

These attitudes were reflected in the way the initial contacts were made, the way the food was served, in the ambience around, the way workers interacted with each other and to the customers, the way the furniture or crockery were moved from one point to another, and so on.

 

Let me take the e.g. of uniforms while acknowledging the crucial role that economics play here.

 

McDonald’s is recruiting Russell Simons,P.Diddy and Tommy Hilfiger to perform a miracle a makeover: Turn its employee’s mundane uniform into hip street wear.As it attempts to change its image from a fat purveyor to phat icon, especially in post-McLibel and post -super size me- times. The world largest employer is turning to these style-setters for what could be an $80 million makeover for its army of workers. The idea certainly is not only to give their employees a new-look and infuse sense of pride , but also to turn them into walking brand billboards as they circulate among their peers.

 

This is what the Chief Marketing officer of McD in the US said about this overhaul:

 

“We are looking at how do we make our uniforms more appealing,more desireable.It is very important to differentiate between what employees have to wear and what they want to wear. It’s a very important aspect employee pride. McDonald’s have evolved and become a lifestyle brand...since it’s now relevant to our lifestyle, let’s go one step further and make its employees relevant to our style as well”.

 

 

Today, in fast food chains, atleast in Pizza Hut and McDonald’s, employees are not allowed to step out of the outlet while wearing the “work” uniform. Its one of the biggest sins here. And if you have to, you use the back door. Now with the change both, in the physical uniform and idea behind it, the ultimate test is whether employees would wear the outfits outside of work as a fashion statement.

 

In other words fashion is one of the languages that McDonald’s is tapping into to improve its relevance especially with the youth. When it launched its” Iam lovinit” platform, fashionable crew uniforms in several countries including Netherlands, became the rage and customers begged to buy their own versions!!   

 

And why not, if Italian police can wear Armani and Delta Airlines flight crew can wear uniforms designed by international designer, Kate Spade, why not the McDudes



ONE LIFE. ONE SHOT. 

Happiness, Health & Peace, 
Syed Khalid Jamal   

		
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