If you've dined at Santana Row recently, you might have noticed something curious on your bill — a line item called a "Santana Row surcharge." Or maybe you didn't notice, which is kind of the point.

Diners at the upscale San Jose shopping and dining district are reporting mysterious surcharges tacked onto their checks, often without clear disclosure on the menu. Some say the lighting was too dim to read the fine print. Others say there was no fine print at all. Either way, the experience of discovering an unexpected fee after you've eaten your $38 pasta is not exactly the transparent, consumer-friendly experience restaurants should be striving for.

Let's be clear: restaurants operate on thin margins, and nobody here is arguing they shouldn't be profitable. Rent at a premium outdoor mall like Santana Row is brutal, and those costs have to get passed along somehow. That's basic economics. But there's a right way and a wrong way to do it.

The right way? Build your costs into your menu prices. Charge $40 for the pasta instead of $38 plus a mystery fee. Customers can make informed decisions, and everyone walks away without feeling nickel-and-dimed.

The wrong way? Bury a surcharge in your bill and hope the mood lighting does the rest.

This isn't just a Santana Row problem. The surcharge trend has been creeping across Bay Area restaurants for years — "SF Mandate" surcharges, "living wage" surcharges, "equity" surcharges. At some point, your receipt starts looking like an itemized phone bill from 2003. Each one individually might seem small, but collectively they erode trust between restaurants and customers.

Consumers deserve to know what they're paying before they order, not after. Price transparency isn't some radical libertarian demand — it's basic respect for the person handing over their credit card.

If your business model requires hidden fees to work, your business model doesn't work.