$65 worth of Thai food arrived at my door on Friday night.

In the bag:
🍚 Peanut-buttery Panang curry with a hint of heat
🍚 A spicy Thai basil dish with ground chicken, diced green beans, and loads of hot peppers
🍚 Chewy fried chive dumplings with a dark, gingery dipping sauce
🍚 Crispy crab rangoon tied up like little purses
🍚 Basil chicken egg rolls (I like basil chicken, okay?)

And an order of chicken fried rice, a “free” bonus when you order $45 or more through the website.

By the way, I was home alone on Friday night.

Indeed, reader: All that Thai food was for me.

Listen.

It feels criminal to pay a $5 delivery fee and $4 tip for one little order.
And I cannot abide a world where I do not get free fried rice when I order.

I take a ceremonial first bite of that fried rice every time it arrives, steaming hot with this subtle tinge of sweetness I’ve never understood but find entirely tantalizing.

So the tab ticks up. 
And I eat for a week.
Fine, five days.
OKAY. THREE. UGH.

But I am really here today to talk about a baffling takeout idiosyncrasy that sends me immediately rooting to the bottom of my containers with tongs:

In every flimsy plastic tray of Panang curry, chive dumplings, and egg rolls sits a single, hopelessly flaccid leaf of lettuce.

It serves no purpose. It grosses me out.

It is decorative lettuce.

It is in no way keeping the food crispier or fresher.
It adds no nutritional value. It is just lettuce one must spelunk for.

In the words of Carrie Bradshaw… I couldn’t help but wonder what the proprietors of my favorite Thai takeout think that sloppy wilted green is accomplishing. 👠

😬 Do they think it makes the dish more appetizing or attractive?
😬 Do they think it has a function? (Shoot, does it have a function that I’m missing?)
😬 Do they think it’s a…differentiator?

And is this a bit like the disconnect between what business owners think is valuable in their messaging and what their dream customers actually want to hear?

Can we agree not flummox our dream customers with weird surprises in their takeout containers, ?

Here’s a start:
🥢 Make sure that ceremonial first bite of fried rice just…hits…different.
(Write a scroll-stopping transformational statement for the top of your website.)

🥢 Make that rangoon suuuuuuper crabby.
(Communicate a value proposition that fulfills their deepest desires.)

🥢 Send the extra container of dipping sauce because there’s LITCHrully never enough.
(Add genuine empathy to show they’re not alone against their challenges.)

🥢 Pack up the bag so nothing spills in transit.
(Give them a clear, undaunting path to success.)

Skip the fluffy testimonials, the fear mongering and baiting with “problem” language, the badges of awards nobody cares about, the rags-to-riches Cinderella story nobody believes but wants to buy anyway…

That’s all just sad, soggy lettuce, baby.

(But did you know Thai people don’t use chopsticks?)
Paige

P.S. Have you politely requested my Do This, NOT That! brand story guide? Everybody’s doing it.