#bad waiters

[thejoe2782]

AMAZING stacking skills there, servers! I hope you were tipped well-_-

[mlookw]

Lordy, Lordy, Was I a lousy waiter!

Lordy, Lordy, Was I a lousy waiter!

  Why did you choose the restaurant where I worked at that particular time?  A few seconds earlier or later, you would have been safe. But Fate dropped the piano on your head, and you drew me as your waiter. Forty-five minutes later you tore headlong shrieking from that restaurant, and you never trusted another human being again.

People tell me: please, Lousy, stop with the caterwauling…

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[sidewindervx]

Dealing with bad waiters...

[mraia1]

Rant-restaurants

I like to eat out. I know it’s not good for you, usually, and it’s expensive, but I don’t care. I enjoy the experience of going out, being served, and enjoying a nice meal. Doesn’t have to be foi gras. It could be a burger somewhere. All I know is that the whole thing appeals to me.

I can remember dining out with my parents when I was younger. We almost always went to nice places. My dad was a business man with an expense account, and was used to big lunches and big dinners at good restaurants. So when we went out as a family, we went the same route. The old man provided for some pretty awesome meals, and if you were lucky enough (or cursed enough, depending on your point of view) to be a friend of mine, or a girlfriend, you usually got the benefit of tagging along and getting some pretty good meals.

However, my Dad was a stickler for a few things. He didn’t want to bother with a diner. I think he considered it lowbrow, and he wanted service to be efficient, prompt, and clean. I say clean because there have been times, over the years, when the waiters have been, how to put it delicately…fragrant. Some guy reaching over to grab a plate, and smelling like he hadn’t bathed in a week, was enough for us all to be hurried out of there, and back into the station wagon to go home. He was unrelenting in this, and I completely, utterly agree with his position now…even though then, as a young man, it was more embarrassing. He was right, I was wrong, and my kids are wrong too, when they tell me to chill out and relax. They’ll see the light eventually, I’m sure.

So now, when I go out to eat, there’s a few things I insist on, or wish I could insist on.

Waiters, take a shower. Sorry, this isn’t a racial or ethnic issue. If you’re serving me food, don’t smell like the soup. I notice this in diners more than anywhere else. I don’t care what your nationality is…if you stink, I may leave, or you may not get a tip, or the manager may get my thoughts on the subject. Or all three. Again, sorry to offend if someone takes this the wrong way, but I cannot stomach the smell of body odor.

We’re not pals. I don’t want a conversation. I don’t care where you grew up, what type of day you having…etc. Don’t sit down in the booth to take my order, and don’t kneel down either. I’m not your king, and you don’t need to bow to me. It makes me uncomfortable…just stand there, take the order, and be done with it. Please and thank you’s are a must, but anything beyond answering a question is out of line.

I don’t need “help” with the menu. I’m 48 years old, and have been reading menus for a long time. I promise you, there’s nothing on that menu that I need a Rosetta Stone, or an out-of-work actor, to enlighten me on. I can figure it out, and if I can’t I will ask for your help.

Don’t disappear. Ask to refill my glass, but only if its empty or near empty. A half full glass of Diet Coke doesn’t need a new one to appear out of the blue. Wait till its finished, and then when you bring a new one, take the old glass. I don’t need a collection of glasses in front of me.

Ask if everything is alright once. I once had a waiter come over every few minutes, along with a manager and a hostess, asking how my dining experience is. Trying to be nice is one thing. Overkill and constant interruptions are a pain in the ass.

DON’T ASK IF I WANT CHANGE!!!!!! EVER!!!! Take the money, and bring me change. Just do it. You’re presuming too much if you ask me that question, and again, I’m not your pal. You’re getting a tip based on service, and that’s included. It’s rude.

And now…the coup de grace. The finale to this screed…the one thing that for years has given me apoplectic fits…THE CLEARING OF THE PLATES. I cannot STAND when I finish eating, and immediately someone appears to whisk my plate away, even if there’s some lingering bits of food on it. Unless EVERYONE IS DONE EATING, I don’t want my plate touched, and here’s why; when you begin to clear plates, the presumption is that the meal is over. But it’s not for the person still eating! The meal is still going on, and I don’t want ANYBODY at that table feeling rushed to complete their meal simply because I may not have a plate in front of me anymore. I know a lot of people WANT their plates cleared, but this is my wish list, and I don’t. I have had waiters seemingly hovering over my table, in a mad fury to clean my dish. I’ve had idiots ask if I was done while I was spooning food into my mouth. I’ve had to tell my kids “don’t rush” simply because they were the only ones still eating and thought they were holding us up. I can’t stress this enough…if you catch me on a bad night…if I had a crappy day at work, or band practice just did not go the way it should have…I WILL take your fucking head off if you bug me about my dish. Overkill? Maybe. I don’t care. It’s rude, MOST people don’t like it, and it should end.

Whew…I guess that’s enough for now. This is something I’m going to revisit every so often, along with movie theater behavior, airplane behavior, subway/railroad behavior…and wait till I get to family relations! Oh boy.

The great Harlan Ellison once released a collection of essays called “An Edge in My Voice”. He was a brilliant writer, and a staunch defender of what was right. Not PC, but RIGHT. He would rail against the establishment, against the yahoos who run the movie studios, to the yahoos who go to the movies and talk through the damn feature.  I’ve re-read his essays many, many times, and base a lot of my assumptions and beliefs on what he stood for. So as I continue to write these columns, it’s with the spirit of Mr. Ellison guiding me, imparting the desire not to simply “accept” or to “suck it up” but to fight against what’s “wrong”. Sure, these are not epic battles, or political issues, but they’re the smaller stitches in the fabrics of our lives, the “little things” that we should be able to control but often cannot, the quality of lifer’s that we mostly condemn, but usually just shrug our shoulders about. That’s wasn’t Ellison, and that’s not me. So there.