Bookings, menus, online ordering, search. Written by the people building the product, between services.
A false highchair or step-free claim and a disabled guest turned away are two separate legal risks, not one — confusing them costs a restaurant the right defence.
A defamatory review risks real bookings, but only one of five legal routes actually removes it — and none of them hand over who wrote it.
A consumer streaming subscription licenses none of it, and being found unlicensed before contact is priced worse than registering — a real cost, not a warning.
Staff enforce the line the restaurant published, and that line becomes the evidence. What a site says about dogs carries more legal risk than what it leaves unwritten.
A checkout takes payment for a bottle of wine. The age check lands thirty minutes later on whoever carries the bag, and so does the risk.
Two parties both insist they were next, the paper sheet is already in the bin, and the dispute gets decided on whichever memory sounds most confident.
The website shows one number and the bill shows another, and that mismatch turns into a dispute at the table before any regulator has settled the rule.
A confirmation carrying only a total leaves the restaurant arguing from memory when a guest disputes the charge, and saying nothing at all about cancellation is itself a failure.
A price that was accurate when it was printed can still be presented in a misleading way, and no deadline anywhere tells a restaurant when the stale figure must come down.
A restaurant membership can be live in an afternoon, and the rules most owners have read about are dormant. The older ones that bite may carry a twelve-month refund exposure.
A club where one saver’s balance passes £120, or last year’s turnover passed £1,000,000, loses the small-business exclusion and picks up costs nobody planned for.
Six months after the chef left, the shared password still works, and the register that would say who else holds it is missing.