Dynamic Pricing? Himbos? Count me in!

Let’s start with the technical climax. His penis’ name was “Matters.”

And while this might sound like the beginning of a #metoo story about working in hospitality, it isn’t.

Curious?

We were still producing out of a billed-as-an-incubator but ran-like-a-meh-commissary kitchen. The building that kitchen was in also had a brewery run by himbos. The himbos part isn’t germane to the story, I just say it because I so infrequently get to use “himbos.”

On occasion, food businesses from the kitchen – including ours - would sell to brewery patrons. Makes sense since the brewery didn’t serve food.

When a major beer release was scheduled and all-day food service was in order, we were going to serve breakfast and brunch. It had the makings of a pretty sweet deal. Not only was it a new beer, but it was named in honor of a local band that “made it.” If that wasn’t enough to bring folks in, the band would be there and performing.

So, when we got to the kitchen before sunrise to start boiling and baking, I wasn’t surprised to see fans lining up at the entrance to the brewery. Even though I couldn’t imagine doing that for anyone or anything, I respected it. Serving these folks would be delightful, and I knew it.

And serve them we did. They were a positive, energized, eager and, in many ways captive, crowd. The brewery team mirrored that spirit. The band? I mean, I don’t particularly like their music, but I’m not too proud to say I could be caught bopping along. It was a great morning for sales, a great day to gather with folks over shared interests.

That should be enough, right?

The lunch and dinner food vendor set up for service at the other end of the brewery. FWIW - they produced out of the same kitchen as us. Their owner set out paper menus and an a-frame chalk board. I knew we’d have some timing overlap, but given how different our offerings were from his, and how many people were looking to eat more to sop up that beer, it didn’t matter.

But then our team noticed something. Shortly after putting those menus out, they were being replaced by new ones. Trust me, there was no way in hell that he was dropping new items in honor of the event. (This was a person who didn’t need to be creative to succeed.) And it wasn’t like people were spilling beer over his menus and they needed to be replaced, either. ?

Then, unsolicited, and in more detail than my lack of follow-up questions demanded, he came to our set-up and revealed his plan. We knew he often sold out of the brewery, having made them sign some sort of agreement to ensure his right of first refusal. We also knew he liked to undermine the intellect of the brewery’s owners. Not for nothing, but if you ever met them, you knew that was a cheap shot. I mean, see my earlier comment. Anyway, so he tells us how he was taking “matters” into his own hands.

I’ll give you a moment.

He was taking matters into his own hands because the brewery was missing opportunities to make them – and him - money. Moreover, his mode for doing so was seeing how high he could drive his prices because this was a captive audience there to spend money. The more time passed, the more inebriated the crowd got, the higher his menu pricing went.

That’s how these guys roll - mistaking my tired politeness as interest or, heaven help me, admiration. What was a good day to us was knocking out orders to fill the bellies of good-natured folks wanting to keep the buzz going. What was a good day to him needed a certain imbalance to be achieved. Customers – and the very people who were giving him a place to sell - had to be rubes in order for him to have “won” something. He needed to exit the scene knowing that he maximized a perceived opportunity and that everyone was stupid but him.

Ultimately, I have no idea if any of the crowd saw the original menu pricing and then noticed the “because-I-can” uptick, leading them to order less, if at all. I have no idea if his scheme financially worked better than if he left his prices the same. But, if anyone was going to hear his hero’s tale afterwards, it sure as shit wasn’t going to be us.