A bar owner has many worries. Timely delivery of food supplies, taxes, not always adequate staff, constantly breaking equipment, one customer's desire to sing karaoke and another's to watch football – all this is far from a complete list of minor imperfections and major problems that haunt me around the clock, not leaving me in peace even while sleeping. All of this requires timely attention, otherwise the problems tangle into a knot that you definitely can't hide under the bar counter. However, no knot of troubles can compare to a complete loss of reputation for an establishment. And that fate befell my 'Julietta' suddenly and without any possibility to influence the situation.
Once upon a time, there was an episode of 'Brain Ring' on TV, in which a team correctly answered the question: 'How did the authorities of one American metropolis help the railway structure survive the crisis?' The mayor simply ordered a significant reduction in ticket prices, which led to an increased passenger flow. I watched that episode as a child, and for some reason, I remembered this particular question. And when I opened my bar, I decided that prices would be an order of magnitude lower than others, just to have more customers.
A very erroneous strategy for the restaurant business. By focusing on the number of customers, I lost sight of their quality. As a person, I am not used to judging others, but as a bar owner, I want to say that the cheapest bars attract people with rather low financial means, social status, and cultural level. And I wouldn't have cared about that (why interfere with someone else's worldview) if not for the constant fights in the establishment, harassment of waitresses, and the layer of broken shot glasses, wine glasses, and bottles shimmering in the light, somewhat reminiscent of Ali Baba's small treasure trove.
Because of such manifestations of customer fun, I had supersonic staff turnover. It even got to the point that a waitress who worked for a month was given a special medal 'For Courage.' The situation became critical one evening when a restless customer decided to set the hall on fire using toilet napkins. Fortunately, he didn't succeed; unfortunately, his pyrotechnic performance was filmed and posted on YouTube. This episode completely destroyed the establishment's reputation.
A psychologist I know helped solve the problem. This person can't even drive a nail on his own, but he understands the subtleties and nuances of the soul phenomenally. And on his advice, I organized 'Old Song Days at Julietta.' At six in the evening, every third day, elderly people could sing karaoke and order tea with cookies completely free of charge. How does this relate to improving reputation? Very simple.
Firstly, even a hardened hooligan or pyrotechnic maniac respects old age and behaves like a diligent schoolboy. And secondly, grandmothers are the inventors of word-of-mouth radio. The only problem was acquiring a karaoke system. I refused traditional music centers, as they, like Cleopatra's suitors, often did not survive the night. But online karaoke turned out to be the best option.
After a thorough study of services, I settled on karaoke-club.pro, because the site has a serious music library, and the admins are not shy about updating it. Also, the simplicity of the site was a plus – even inexperienced waitresses figured it out in a few minutes. And of course, money. I confess I didn't know before that paid services of this kind existed, and I was skeptical about the idea, but as they say, 'as long as you pay, you're the boss.' Moreover, paying is convenient thanks to two tariff plans: unlimited and per-song. I tried both options, and each has its advantages. And for the grandmothers who have sung all their lives in ensembles (and it turns out there are many of them), the site provides small 'conveniences' such as key change and voice recording capability.
As they say, believe it or not, but in four months my bar was unrecognizable. The grandmothers calmed overly agitated visitors better than the local police officer, and some grandfathers told such stories of past exploits that even the waitresses forgot about work. Of course, my bar is still far from being called 'exemplary' (even if such a title existed), but positive movements are noticeable. There is no moral to the story, I just shared my experience, maybe it will be useful to someone.
PR