Dear PF Chang,
As a traveling shoe salesman, I often find myself on the road around suppertime. In many cases, I wind up at happy hours, yucking it up and forging alliances with other traveling salesfolk. I meet granite salespeople, linoleum salespeople, the traveling handtool salesman, and even an occasional traveling encyclopedia salesman, although they're usually dinosaurs who need to be in bed by the time we all agree upon where to eat.
In each town, it's the same thing. Some dullard throws "Bob Evans" out there as a starting point. Then somebody else says "why don't we really live it up and hit Applebees!" "Ooh! Somebody get my heart specialist on the phone--I can't handle all of this excitement." Every single time, and I do mean this, I say "how about the Mongolian Beef at PF Chang?" Some crusty crunudgeon always poo poos the idea saying "I'm not in the mood for Chinese." Then we wind up at Pizza Hut. Yay...
Your food is stellar, and I think a lot of people don't even realize it. They hear PF Changs and they think it's some dull Chinese Food Chain. They equate it with a run-of-the-mill buffett, and this upsets me. It should also upset you. You need an image makeover. You need to turn some heads and wake people up. Break all the cobwebs. You need to climb atop the tallest mountain, lettuce wrap in hand and say "World, this is the end-all-be-all Chinese Bistro."
I suggest that you change your name--the very handle by which people address you. Call yourselves "P. Effing Chang." It may get a little resistance at first--confused people wondering if you're under new ownership. The college kids will get it though. College kids spread the word. They eat at your restaurant on the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, and spend the entire next day picking apart Grandma's bone-dry dressing, raving about the Honey Chicken leftovers in the fridge. Then on Bar Night Friday, they brag to their friends because they loaded their fried green beans up with the chili oil. Think about it. P. Effing Chang. It conveys urgency, immediacy, and a sense of "I'm here to stay."
Imagine Chuck Norris, decked out in leather, dismounting from his horse, and walking through those doors. I believe Chuck Norris, at least the image that we've all conjured up, would adore P. Effing Chang. As someone who feels passion about his favorite restaurant, I would too.
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