January. The Hawk screeches in as if straight from the mouth of Jack Frost. Anything not nailed down will find its way south and west. The temperature is so low that 32 degrees seems never to be attainable again. Snow is piled up everywhere with a fine crust of grime that steals any beauty that existed when it first fell. And darkness seems inevitable. The sky has two colors, black and light black. And the change seems to occur from late breakfast to early dinner. The rest is night. It’s January, and the world is locked in winter.

As the Wanderer is aware of all this, he is also aware that down the street he sees a glow, a sign, a direction. As he gets closer, he recognizes that what looked unreal before is actually your restaurant. He sees a well-lit sign (all bulbs and neon working) inviting him in. The parking lot is well lit and striped. The drive-thru is thoroughly apparent—no guessing how to use it. There are plenty of trash cans, and they are empty.

As he approaches the door, he notices how clean everything looks. He goes in. There is a crew person quietly playing the guitar and a mini art show on the walls, the work of another crew person. The restaurant is almost full with customers, who have only met minutes ago, playing some kind of trivia game that came on their tray liners. Kids are coloring their tray liners with supplied crayons. All in all it’s an oasis from where he has just been.

Suddenly there is a blast of cold air, and all heads turn toward the door. Standing before them appears to be a very confused woman. You have never seen her before. She is dressed in a coat that is a little more upscale, with boots that have not seen the salt of the road. She is anxious, but wants not to be conspicuous. She is a casual-dining customer. And, she is in your quick-service restaurant.

At once, Casual Dining Plan A flies into action. A crew person who has been wiping tables, replacing spilled drinks, and interacting with the customers, comes hurriedly to her and welcomes her to [your chain’s name here]. He escorts her to the counter and helps her order, use the condiment and drink station, and find a table. She looks happy and she should be. You have planned for this moment for a long time. Ever since the economy started to go marshmallow.

You look up. There are scores, even hundreds of noses pressed to your sparkling clean windows with no advertising signs in them to block out the meager light of January. The casual-dining folks are here. Time to take care of them and keep them as customers when Wall Street decides we have had enough of this travesty.

So besides all of the above, what else can you do to hold on to the new influx of customers coming to you from those restaurants they can no longer afford comfortably?

Get your Morale and Service degrees. Make sure your crew is at its highest morale and make sure they are servicing the customer the best they can. Doesn’t cost anything and will bring back the trickiest of customers. If you do nothing else—and you should—improve your service.

Maintain hot, fresh, tantalizing food. Keep the hot, hot and the cold, cold. (Hey McDonald’s, remember that one?) Again, doesn’t cost anything. Might increase waste as you get rid of old food.

You can stop here, but please don’t.

Get a frequent-eater club going. Don’t let that casual diner go back to where she was. Also be sure to offer value. In January and this economy, it’s important to give value. Let the customer put the meal together or you do it. Again, I am talking with someone who is experimenting with a la carte pricing and combo pricing in a menu that the customer constructs.

Don’t let an area event go by that doesn’t have your presence. Be a donor, a vendor, or a coupon giver. Just be there.

Visit the other businesses around you and partner.

The point is: hug that casual diner and don’t let her go. She came to you to see who you are and to get value. Don’t let her down. Don’t send her into that quiet night of casual dining.

A final word. If there are any corporate folks reading this column, take heed. I am getting scads of e-mails from operators concerned about bottom-line profit. And they perceive their licensors as only being concerned about top-line sales. You know, what you report to the boys on Wall Street. Make sure there is a balance of top-line promotion and bottom-line activity. How about a good old fashioned self liquidator? Customer perceives a value, the operator makes money, and you get top-line sales.

And, you, operators. Get to work. Go after birthday and anniversary parties, school lunches, and service-club meetings to increase profit. Try a delivery lunch program like my friend in Wisconsin. He delivers himself to give the owner touch. Doing great! Sell your sides and sizes profitably. They are already there, so there’s no cost to you just profit. Don’t be irritating, however.

I have some thoughts on how to analyze promotion and profit if you want to e-mail me at the address at the bottom of this article.

The economy might push some folks into your restaurant who have never been there. Be ready for them, embrace them, and be sure to get the nose prints off your clean windows quickly.

The Happiest of Januarys, Peace, and Happy Trails.