The Panera Bread Personal Office

I sat in a Panera Bread Store in Tampa not long ago. Amy was completing some last-minute cramming before a test on material she’d covered in a class. I got to tag along to enjoy sunny weather and warm temperatures for a few days. As the saying goes, if you’ve been in one Panera, you’ve been in them all.

All booths are filled first on any given day. People must like the coziness of the enclosure, as well as the padded seats. By and large, most of the booths are taken by people who are interested in talking. In Tampa, one man rattled on about a baseball camp. For a second I thought he might be someone affiliated with the teams in town for spring training since he spouted out statistics about one pitcher. In the next couple of sentences, he ratted himself out. This guy would be coaching a little league team in some recreational league. He was going to a mandatory camp that certifies coaches as qualified leaders of youth teams. I should have known it; all dads think of T-ball as if it were the stepping stone to a major league contract.

In an adjacent booth two more men carried on another conversation. Better said, one man yakked while the other listened. The talker went on incessantly as he prated about every area of his personal life. His voice whined about the struggles he encountered, and the man sounded as if he were the only person who’d ever had such a rough time of it. I assumed his worries didn’t include money since he was eating food and drinking coffee that is over-priced and not all that tasty. After a while, Amy asked if we could move outside. The yammering interfered with her studying.

Tables in the business are usually filled with those who are working. Groups of men in coats and ties and women in dresses and heels pull tables together and begin sales meetings. At smaller tables, one-on-one meetings between managers and employees drag on. At a couple job interviews are being held, and individuals in search of a job nervously answer questions while keeping their voices low enough to prevent others in close proximity from hearing. Some tables are occupied by singles. It’s fascinating to watch them enter and begin the search for a table close to an electrical outlet. After territories are staked and plugs are inserted, these folks sidle up to the counter to place orders. For the next few hours, they nurse cups of coffee and complete a day’s worth of work. All are smart business people for they’ve found offices that cost $1.79 plus tax (cup of coffee) each day in rent.

Another common ground for Panera stores deals with restrooms. Upon entering any of them, the mingling odors of urine and methane gas attack. Urinals are half-filled and in some stalls patrons have left creations for which they are so proud that flushing them away in unthinkable. Workers in charge of cleaning the facilities are derelict in their duties, but even when they are attentive, the smell indicates that floors have been swabbed with soured mops. The best way for customers to approach a restroom is to take a deep breath before entering, hurry through their business, and exit before passing out from the lack of oxygen.

I, too, am guilty of using Panera as a meeting place. On occasion, I’ve met individual for story interviews there. Usually during afternoons I meet with them for no more than forty-five minutes. That’s usually all it takes. Some people who are there when I arrive appear to have staked their claims to tables and booths since early morning. I much prefer to complete my business and move on to something else. My office at home is more comfortable than Panera, and it’s much quieter. The only distraction is letting the dog out a couple of times. I appreciate Panera and the service it provides; however, clean restrooms would do wonders for the business’ image. Maybe a sign might be placed that cautions talkers to maintain low voices so as not to annoy others.