Cafe operators juggle all-day Wi-Fi users
Customers often sit for long periods without purchasing products
Kyle Glanville should have been thrilled. All 70 of the outdoor seats at Go Get Em Tiger were taken, only three days after he and his partner opened the cafe in the Los Feliz neighborhood of Los Angeles.
He was not. “Everybody was at a laptop wearing headphones,” Glanville said. He strode inside, unplugged the device that provided free Wi-Fi and tossed it into a bin in his office.
He wanted a courtyard where people talked to one another, not a silent office for remote workers. And while anyone with a cellphone hot spot could connect without his help, he had made himself clear. On a recent weekday morning, almost a year and a half later, the courtyard was still full of people, but this time they were talking to one another. Only one was at his laptop.
Remote workers have staked out coffee shops for years, but small-business owners say their ranks are rising. In 2016, 43 percent of U.S. employees spent some time working remotely, according to a Gallup survey; the number who telecommute at least half the time has grown by 115 percent since 2005, said a report last year from FlexJobs and Global Workplace Analytics.
Add in the self-employed, and the crowd gets even bigger. And while some still embrace the home-and-pajama model, a large contingent hits the corner cafe.
Starbucks may not feel the pinch, with its multibillion-dollar revenues and legions of graband-go customers, but for owners of smaller businesses, the math is grim.
“Three hours for $5 worth of coffee is not a model that works,” said David Wynn, co-owner of Triniti, a tiny cafe that opened two months ago. Owners face a choice: Get tough or embrace them and hope that a combination of guilt and loyalty will inspire them to spend more or leave sooner.
It’s hard to know which is the right answer. “There’s no social order here to tell us how to behave,” said Glanville, as if he were contemplating a newly formed nation, which in a way he is. He took a no-tolerance stance on Wi-Fi because a single ground rule seemed more hospitable than a litany of restrictions.
Rich Nieto thought he was being tough enough when he limited workers to a dedicated laptop room at his 25-seat Sweetleaf cafe in Long Island City in the Queens borough of New York City. But when all eight laptop seats were taken one afternoon, a customer simply retired to another room, tore away the wallpaper to expose a purposely covered electrical outlet, and plugged in.
“You can’t win that battle,” said Nieto, who had already learned his lesson the hard way. “The first time I saw someone with a laptop, I said, ‘Sorry, no laptops.’ Right after that, I got a one-star review on Yelp.”
Even companies committed to accommodating remote workers look for ways to improve the relationship.
At Triniti, Wynn offers free Wi-Fi, but after two hours a customer must have “a face-to-face interaction” with an employee, he says, to get a new password.
Jason Neroni, the chef and a partner in the Rose Cafe in the Venice neighborhood of Los Angeles, said he was happy to run what he called “a commissary” for the nearby offices of Google, BuzzFeed and Snapchat — this part of the neighborhood is known as Silicon Beach — and for self-employed people.
He sees them as the nascent regulars of tomorrow. And with 300 seats, he can afford to invest 85 to 90 cafe and patio seats in the future and still maintain a no-laptop policy in the main dining room.
He employs subtle means to influence the behavior of working customers. Logging in for two hours of free Wi-Fi requires the user’s email address, which goes onto the Rose’s mailing list. And while people can log right back in, the expiration reminds them that it might be time to order another round.
Servers circulate to ask if they can get something else for a customer tied to his electronic devices. And Wi-Fi service ends at 5:30 p.m., to signal that the workday has ended and dinner service is about to begin.
Like most cafes, the Rose doesn’t provide electrical outlets; a dwindling battery should be a sign that it’s time to go.
Some remote workers have gotten the message, and try to do their part. Jocelyn Johnson, who founded VideoInk, a digital trade publication about online video, relies on remote work sites including the Rose.
Her self-imposed rules include working in one cafe or restaurant no more than three mornings a week. She always orders a coffee and pastry. Then she packs up and heads to another spot on her preferred list.
The only casualty of the plan is her social life, which she had hoped might include the Rose as well: She tried a weekend brunch there, only to realize that it felt too much like the office.
“I couldn’t enjoy myself,” she said. “I kept feeling that I ought to be working.”