I worked at small businesses most of my career. W-2, 1099, sometimes both at the same time. One thing you learn fast is that reviews matter — and people mostly only sit down to write them when they’re upset. The happy ones are eating the biscuit, not typing on Google.
Last week I became one of those people. Briefly.
I walked into Bird Bird Biscuit on Manor with a plan: order, eat, get on with my day. The order screen had so much glare I couldn’t see what I was tapping. There was no waiting paper, no receipt printer, no person at the counter to flag down. After thirty minutes I left hungry. So I did the thing — I left two stars.
I’m a regular there. I love the biscuits. I knew, even as I was typing it, that I was writing the review version of slamming a door.
The owner responded the same day. Warm, apologetic, owned it. The line that stuck with me was, “one of my markers that I use is that we never let anyone leave empty-handed.” Asked me to text so they could make it right. No defensiveness. No “well actually.” Just — we hear you, come back, let us fix this.
That’s the response I would have wanted to write when I was on the other side of the counter. The version I didn’t always pull off when I was the one running things. It takes a particular kind of confidence in your own operation to read a two-star review and respond like a human instead of a brand.
I’m heading back this week. The biscuits were never the problem. And honestly, one rough morning at the order screen is a smaller story than how the people running the place handle it after.
If you own a small business and you’re reading your reviews tonight: the upset ones are the ones who cared enough to walk in. They’ll come back if you let them. The Bird Bird folks already knew that.