Have you ever finished reading a list about the hottest new restaurants in your city only to find that you can’t get a reservation at a single one?

It’s because someone — or something — already booked them. And it’s making the restaurant industry a lot less fun.

Battle of the bots

Just like Taylor Swift concert tickets, hot restaurant reservations get snatched up instantly by bots (like this one) as soon as they’re posted.

Then, the people operating those bots look to turn a profit on reservation resale sites, which are multiplying:

• On Appointment Trader, users buy and sell restaurant reservations. The site takes a 20%-30% cut of the sale price and has reportedly facilitated $2.4m+ in reservation sales since launching in 2021.
• Cita is a “peer-to-peer” marketplace for buying and selling reservations. A Saturday night res for two at Semma, an Indian restaurant in New York City, was recently listed for $480.
• For more frugal diners, ResX is free to use. Users can exchange reservations for tokens, which can be put toward a new booking. A $10 monthly subscription lets users access “premium” restaurants.

These marketplaces, unfortunately, are a lose-lose for the rest of us.

Diners trying to book the old-fashioned way — through apps like Resy, Tock, or OpenTable — can be out of luck.

As for restaurants: When bot-booked seats go unfilled, they lose out on cancellation fees charged to invalid credit cards, and on empty tables.

Now, restaurants are fighting back

Some are painstakingly combing through reservations to confirm that they’ve been booked by a human, while others are saving more spots for walk-ins.

And there are platforms that aim to partner with restaurants, rather than usurp them:

• With Dorsia, users prepay a minimum spend to secure a reservation, which is calculated based on demand. That prepayment is then applied toward their total bill.
• Resy’s Global Dining Access program gives American Express cardholders access to exclusive reservations.

Ultimately, restaurants are finding that the safest way to secure a reservation is to charge upfront.

So get ready to pay a reservation fee before you even step foot in a restaurant.

I’ve gotta come clean: I’ve been on a private jet.

It was for a previous job and it was a weird ride — the restroom was so sleek, it was unclear which basin was the toilet and which one was the sink. (I played it safe and waited.)

Apparently that toilet confusion was just a “me” problem: The private aviation business has been hot, per Fast Company:

• Usage is up 20% since the start of the pandemic.
• Worldwide, there were ~5.3m private flights last year.
• Private jet sales are on track for a record $34.6B year.

Wealthy customers are apparently unbothered by drawbacks like, say, the environmental impact — private jet emissions are ~10x worse than commercial flights per passenger — or the prices (leading charter provider NetJets starts at ~$6.5k/hour).

But the industry’s latest barrier…

… will be harder to overcome: There may not be anyone left to fly the planes.

This summer brought the private aviation industry an unexpected, growing pilot shortage, per Robb Report:

• Leading US airlines Delta, United, and American recently signed new contracts with their pilot unions, all featuring significant raises.
• Industrywide, pilot pay has increased 12% this year, and the talent wars are on — cash-rich commercial airlines are flexing their winning edge, with some airlines even paying out $100k signing bonuses.

The fallout for smaller private providers has begun: NetJets has lost 7%+ of its pilots so far this year, and rival Flexjet says it’s invested $30m in pilot retention.

Where does this go from here?

More charter providers may follow the lead of Tradewind Aviation, which positions itself as a stepping stone for young pilots to land more lucrative commercial airline jobs.

But the more private aviation leans into youth, the more they’ll face perception problems: Does less cockpit experience equate to less safe?

Alternatively: Self-flying planes are here. Cargo flights will own the first phase of testing, but perhaps private aviation will start moving toward the new tech faster than expected?

Two Halloweens ago, we reported on Brach’s Confections’ surprisingly large candy corn biz.

Brach’s had decided to double down on its polarizing treat, launching a Thanksgiving bag that included a green beans flavor described by one reviewer as “unforgivable.”

How’d that go for them?

Brach’s, which produces ~90% of the world’s candy corn — that’s 30m pounds per year — is crushing it. Brach’s owner Ferrara Candy Co. doesn’t reveal sales data, but:

• Last year, Katie Duffy, vice president and general manager of Ferrara’s seasonal candy, told CNN that candy corn sales have been up YoY since 2020.
• Brach’s pulled in an estimated $75m in candy corn sales in 2022, per Fortune.

And remember, this isn’t Reese’s — Halloween’s most popular candy — but one that people openly despise…

… Which is part of the appeal

The controversy is free marketing. Recently, Travis Kelce — Kansas City Chiefs’ tight end and Taylor Swift’s love interest — and his brother Jason made headlines simply by discussing it. (Travis likes it, Jason hates it.)

And unlike other candies, candy corn is a Halloween icon. It’s used to decorate other treats, and its likeness is used by everyone, from Etsy sellers to brands like Nike and Vans.

Brach’s discontinued the Thanksgiving flavors, but Duffy said experimentation lives on “in a delicious way.” This year, that includes a new fan club where 100 members will receive free products year-round.

“Imagine enjoying candy corn with your sweetheart for Valentine’s Day or as a poolside snack in the summer,” the release reads.

We’d rather not, but you do you.