While many companies call their best customers "Platinum", "Gold", or some other euphemism for "VIP", I have always believed that the biggest compliment you can give to a customer is to call them a "Regular" and get them what they want before they ask. It's a great feeling walking into a favorite haunt, having the employees acknowledge you, and you order "the Usual".

My Sunday mornings are extremely routine. Sunday New York Times and a local greasy spoon for scrambled eggs, bacon, hash browns, coffee, and wheat toast. Call me picky, but I prefer strawberry jelly or jam with my wheat toast. Strawberry must be the most popular jelly since I have noticed many restaurants try to pass off the "mixed fruit" or grape jellies since they probably have pallets of them in the back. So after asking for strawberry jelly for 4-6 Sundays in a row, they noticed, and now they bring me strawberry without asking. For that, I come back, I tip well, and I am very low maintenance (I never complain, I don't take a coffee refill, and I leave my paper for other customers).

But since I am neurotic, there is one thing that would make breakfast a little bit better. Since I always eat the bacon, eggs, & hash browns first, the toast is always cold by the time I get to it. I am torn as to whether I should ask them to bring the toast later. If I do, I would do it every week until they just knew I'd prefer my toast brought later. So...does that ruin all the goodwill I've created by being an easy, regular customer? Or is that precisely the kind of service that causes a customer to become a Regular?

More importantly, am I becoming Jack Nicholson in As Good As It Gets?

It's been almost a year since Bills Khakis introduced their most expensive, most elegant, and most "technological" khaki: the Driving Twill. The pant was certainly elegant, but it had the added bonus of being both "wrinkle-resistant" and "stain-repellent".

The problem with that claim is that I am (1) naturally cynical, and (2) not a scientist, let alone a nanotechnologist. So the claim struck me as gimmicky at the time, prompting memories of old TV commercials for inexpensive Haggar "wrinkle-free khakis". The purist in me prefers all natural fibers, so the more wrinkles, the better the fabric must be. All that was missing, though, was the dog-&-pony show which I did not see during that first introduction to this new pant.

On my last trip to NY for market, however, none other than the founder of Bills Khakis, Bill Thomas, took the time to pour an entire glass of water on a pair of Driving Twills to show me for the first time what they meant by "stain-repellent". The water beaded on the pants like something out of Terminator 3, and was then whisked off the pants, leaving no trace of the liquid. Unbelievable. Even the seams are treated so that virtually any stain is unable to penetrate the fabric, ensuring that you'll look so fresh and so clean clean all day long. And we've got it on video, that should be posted to the website shortly.

I've been a Chamois Cloth guy since they introduced that fabric, but I've seen the future and the future is now.

Even before Nancy Pelosi became Speaker of the House, the GOP attempted to scare the public about "San Francisco values". Of course, no one ever defined what those were, but the coded message was effectively satirized by Saturday Night Live.

As someone that appreciates a prime steak, good wine, small-batch bourbon, golf, cigars, and all of the things that Speaker Pelosi mentions in the SNL skit, I've always wondered if it would be so bad if my values spread across the entire country. At the very least, it'd be good for business.  

Alas, we'll let you decide. Recently, San Francisco Magazine threw a party at our warehouse/showroom for their twice-yearly supplement, the Men's Book. Over 300 guests attended. Men and women. Straight and gay. Republican and Democrat.

California Grill & Rotisserie served up the meat for the night. The drinks for the evening were provided by Don Julio Tequila. While the margaritas were powered by Don Julio Blanco, the company's main "Tequila Ambassador" was flown out from New York to pour some 1492 for those that took the time in the cigar lounge to learn about the company's heritage. 

And as is customary for our parties now, a portion of the proceeds from the evening's shopping was donated to City of Dreams, a local non-profit focused on mentoring disadvantaged youth.

If you have absolutely have nothing better to do this morning, you can relive the party, and scroll through all the photos here. Palomino! 

It's easy to make fun of John McCain for not using a computer, but as an "old soul" myself, I constantly find myself reluctant to embrace certain types of new technologies.

I am an early adopter on many technologies -- I had a Palm Pilot back in '97, a TiVo in '99, and I bought the first-generation iPhone the day it was released. I love the bleeding edge when it comes to gadgets.

But when new technology threatens something I consider to be nostalgically pure -- like adding nanotechnology to khakis or the electric razor's challenge to old fashioned wet shaving -- I often reject it outright. So, the notion of a "one-button cappuccino" just sounds unnatural to me. One should have to grind the beans, brew the espresso, and hand-froth the milk. The truly Old School should roast his own beans. It should take at least 15 minutes to make, and that is why I end up spending far too much money at cafés -- I just don't have the time to do it the way my old soul would require it done.

Having recently added Capresso coffee machines & automatic coffee centers to our site, and receiving a demo unit of the Impressa Z5 for the showroom, my worldview has been shattered. I am absolutely awestruck at how great the espresso is considering how easy the machine is to use; in my worldview, the harder something is to make, the better it must be. Yet, every shot we have made has been topped with a rich layer of crema, and we have all read the instruction manual cover-to-cover so we can maximize its functions.

Aside from making a cappuccino with the push of one button, the Z5 is incredibly customizable and programmable. Customizable in that you can have the beans ground as fine or coarse as you like, the espresso brewed as scalding hot or warm as you like, the ounces poured in any drink adjusted, and even set the hardness of the water (try asking your barista to do that for you).

If you're spending $3 a day on a coffee at your local coffee shop, this is an "investment" worth considering. My days of drinking an iced mocha with a straw are over!

Despite all the blog entries about nice clothing, rare cigars, fast cars, and other luxuries that consume my thoughts, I also have my share of neuroses. And I'm curious to see if they afflict other men that would consider themselves "modern gentlemen". So, if our readers like this, there'll be more to come (I have plenty of "excessive anxiety or indecision and a degree of social or interpersonal maladjustment"); if not, I'll keep my neuroses to myself and the rejection will probably just cause me to be even more anxious. 

Neurosis #1: A few weeks back, I was in a Peet's Coffee on a very hot morning, so I ordered a small Iced Mocha. They put iced drinks on the counter without a lid, so I head over to the "supplies counter" (for lack of a better word), and reach into the slot labeled "Small/Medium Iced Lids". As I hold the lid over the cup, I notice it's not going to fit -- it was too big, and probably misplaced.  

What do I do? Throw it away and waste a perfectly good lid? Or put it back, and risk being yelled at by a germophobe?

Let me make a couple points here:

1. The lids for iced drinks have holes for a straw, so grabbing the outer edges of the lid means that my hand will not have touched any part of the lid that a future user's lips would touch (the same would not be true of lids for hot drinks);
   
2. I would have no problem using a lid that someone else handled in the same way, since I believe that germs are just part of life, and people that obsess about avoiding germs are destined to live miserable lives.
   
3. California is the #1 state in the nation in recycling, and I like to think I do my part to keep it there.  

Fearing anger from a germophobe, I throw it away. So I grab a lid from the other stack of plastic cup lids labeled Large Lids thinking the lids just got swapped accidentally. As I lower it to the cup, I notice it's the same size as the last one, and again, won't fit. Now what do I do? Again, I throw it away.

So now I think that maybe just the top lid in the Small/Medium stack was wrong, so I grab another one, and yet again, it's the wrong size. At this point, I'm exasperated. I've thrown away two perfectly good lids, and I've got another one that won't fit, and evidently they don't have any out that actually fit my cup.

Giving up, I throw it away, and as I do, I notice two guys sitting near the window looking at me as though I have just poisoned the planet. But I know, with as crowded as Pete's was, if I had put the lids back after touching them, someone would have accused me of a Seinfeldian "double-dip", and I would have been equally chastised. It was a lose-lose situation.

Am I crazy?