So my fancy friends wanted to go to dinner and having seen the Supper Club doing my Mission Street shopping rounds, I asked if we couldn't try it. The teen thought her salmon was a byte over-cooked, but it seemed okay to the rest of us and she's a sashimi fan, so hard to say. I thought the food was great. The fancy friends thought the service was imperfect. Not into being fawned over, it seemed fine to me.
The slightly over-the-top move was the lady opening the door for us on the way out. She kept reading the magazine in her hand while she held the door and wished us a pleasant evening.
This happens to work for me. I'll take a human-to-human interaction over a fawning syncophant any day of the week.
So, go for it. PLEASE. Because I can't afford to be doing the nice dinner all the time, but I would hate to lose them.

Like the butcher who brought free range chickens to Cordova Market. We were a half-vegetarian household at the time, so we didn't bring in a lot of business. Then when I needed a Rocky chicken, they'd left for lack of trade.