Last autumn, my partner and I went to one of our favorite establishments, where we had an exceptionally great time. It was the first time we'd been seated in this particular section, and we had been given an outstanding waitress. She was fun and energetic, bringing out the best in him and me as patrons of their establishment. She was so good, in fact, that I ended up getting more than I usually do to drink, which meant we stayed longer. Which meant we bought more food. (She's VERY good at her job!)
You know how sometimes you remember life a certain way, and when you encounter a similar situation, you realize you're kind of wrong. Yeah, that was tonight with me.
I arrived earlier than my guest this evening, so I asked to be seated--no use losing our reservation for some silly reason like not being on time! I was excited to see that this bubbly waitress was going to be in our section, and immediately, I thought to myself Great! She might be our waitress again!
Well, I was right about her being our waitress...
Ms. Bubbly jumped over to our table, excited as she could be (I swear there was a hug looming in her eyes.) The hostess had neglected to pass along a drink menu, so I couldn't order wine, beer, or mixed drinks--and after today, I really wanted one. So while Ms. Bubbly fetched the menu, I politely waited.
Once my guest arrived, we placed wine orders and our appetizer was served within minutes of her arrival. (I had taken the liberty of ordering a personal favorite.) The waitress looked at us, and I started fawning about how much I was glad to see her again, and how my partner and I had enjoyed her courtesy in our last encounter. Having friends in the food industry, I know that it's a great idea to ask to be seated in a particular waiter or waitress's section. They get good customers and you get good service. It's fantastic.
About 3 minutes after the appetizer arrived, I remember why I sometimes dislike dining out. Yes, there's an unwritten rule about checking on your patrons about 2 bites in, then again about 5 minutes later. But do you realize how difficult it is to hold a conversation when your waitress interrupts you every five minutes. And on an alternating schedule, the busboy fills the water every five minutes. So, pretty much on average, you're limited to a two-and-a-half minute conversation before an interruption.
I'm a courtesy junkie, too (my momma taught me well). So when the busboy comes by, I have to say "Thank you," even if he only needs to fill my fellow diners' glasses. I feel an equal pull from the courtesy police in my head to be polite and say "thank you" to the waitress every time she stops by. Picture the most annoying phone conversation with the Verizon wireless guy, except instead of "Can you hear me now?" it's more like "Thank you so much."
Yes, I'm disfunctional. I don't care.
At one point, I finally asked the waitress if it was ever tempting to throw a plate at a customer. She said only in her last job--she had worked for a major seafood chain. Little girl, big platters of food, and a crowded path between kitchen and tables. Do the math. It's not pretty.
Yet she manages to be perky all day. I guess it's a good thing this girl didn't decide on a career in journalism. She'd have given Katie a run for her money on "perky" news.
Showing posts with label dining. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dining. Show all posts
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Monday, January 19, 2009
Gay glasses, Surfer waiters, and an Evening out
While out with my partner this weekend, we decided to visit one of our favorite restaurants. I'm not going to mention names. I'm simply going to say that it is downtown, that it's somewhat on the pricey side, and that it tends to be good food, regardless.
When we arrived on Saturday night without a reservation, I wasn't surprised that we'd have a wait. That's to be expected. So, we agreed to take a side table at the house bar, and the wait staff would get us when a table was available. At the time, we were told 20 minutes or so.
In walks a gentleman with the most gay-looking eyeglasses I've ever seen. I'm not using "gay" in the sense of "stupid." I mean: GAY, fab-u-lous, snap that "z", and hand me the Louis Vitton.
Just how did these look? Dark black, contemporary front frames, somewhat rectangular in shape. (No major problem--run of the mill "emo" there...) The kicker was the 5/8" thick ear pieces that were glaring white. WHITE. I'm not sure if he picked these out on his own, if his girlfriend picked them out, or if he just thinks he's taking years off his nearing-50 life...it just looked uber-gay.
On the subject of gay glasses, I'm a non-expert. I admit to owning a pair of Buddy Holly-esque glasses, which my boyfriend has pointed out on more than one occasion he loves to see me in. And yes, in 2009, if you wear Buddy Holly style glasses, you probably do look a little bit gay. But when you go all out with the white earpieces on your super-contemporary glasses, it screams "wannabe gay".
It's a lark, if for no other reason than our odd encounter with Mr. Fabulous. First, he looked at my boyfriend and I sitting silently over his gin & tonic and my beer, offering one of those "Really? Two guys together?" looks. (Did I mention HE was wearing the gay glasses?) He glanced at us while he took a call on his cell phone near the restaurant's entrance. (Totally different pet peeve!) Don't worry--the encounter gets SO much better.
The patrons of the restaurant were taking their time Saturday. So much so that the staff provided us with a little specialty appetizer, in gratitude for our patience. We gladly accepted, and shortly after we finished the plate, were taken to our table. Guess who was at the table behind us? (If you have a sense of the ironic twist of God's humor, you probably know the answer here!)
Turns out Mr. Fabulous has a donkey laugh. A very loud donkey laugh. Which he was not afraid to pull out of his arsenal of annoying dinner habits.
Add to that our waiter who I'm pretty sure just arrived in the Queen City from the California beaches. He had the shaggy blond hair, the barely-visible blond goatee, and the put-on "I'm your bro, Bro" attitude. Halfway through dinner, I found myself thinking that if it seemed kind of stereotypical surfer, it probably was part of his personality.
My boyfriend and I also observed a strange fact about eating at nice restaurants lately. People have gone into cafeteria mode. They modify their orders to suit personal tastes, taking this item off the plate but replacing it with this other item. They speak at volumes heard only otherwise used in contacting individuals across a field. They ignore waiters or waitresses, as well as bussers. (Remember when your mom told you that "Thanks" goes a long way?) And then look at other patrons with awe or disgust.
It's here that I mention that at an earlier date, my boyfriend and I went to the same restaurant and watched as, one by one, members of another table took turns looking at the gay boys. To be honest, the faces were priceless, especially when they realized we saw them looking at us. That's the best way to get people embarrased about your sexuality: take note that they notice!
At least the food was good!
When we arrived on Saturday night without a reservation, I wasn't surprised that we'd have a wait. That's to be expected. So, we agreed to take a side table at the house bar, and the wait staff would get us when a table was available. At the time, we were told 20 minutes or so.
In walks a gentleman with the most gay-looking eyeglasses I've ever seen. I'm not using "gay" in the sense of "stupid." I mean: GAY, fab-u-lous, snap that "z", and hand me the Louis Vitton.
Just how did these look? Dark black, contemporary front frames, somewhat rectangular in shape. (No major problem--run of the mill "emo" there...) The kicker was the 5/8" thick ear pieces that were glaring white. WHITE. I'm not sure if he picked these out on his own, if his girlfriend picked them out, or if he just thinks he's taking years off his nearing-50 life...it just looked uber-gay.
On the subject of gay glasses, I'm a non-expert. I admit to owning a pair of Buddy Holly-esque glasses, which my boyfriend has pointed out on more than one occasion he loves to see me in. And yes, in 2009, if you wear Buddy Holly style glasses, you probably do look a little bit gay. But when you go all out with the white earpieces on your super-contemporary glasses, it screams "wannabe gay".
It's a lark, if for no other reason than our odd encounter with Mr. Fabulous. First, he looked at my boyfriend and I sitting silently over his gin & tonic and my beer, offering one of those "Really? Two guys together?" looks. (Did I mention HE was wearing the gay glasses?) He glanced at us while he took a call on his cell phone near the restaurant's entrance. (Totally different pet peeve!) Don't worry--the encounter gets SO much better.
The patrons of the restaurant were taking their time Saturday. So much so that the staff provided us with a little specialty appetizer, in gratitude for our patience. We gladly accepted, and shortly after we finished the plate, were taken to our table. Guess who was at the table behind us? (If you have a sense of the ironic twist of God's humor, you probably know the answer here!)
Turns out Mr. Fabulous has a donkey laugh. A very loud donkey laugh. Which he was not afraid to pull out of his arsenal of annoying dinner habits.
Add to that our waiter who I'm pretty sure just arrived in the Queen City from the California beaches. He had the shaggy blond hair, the barely-visible blond goatee, and the put-on "I'm your bro, Bro" attitude. Halfway through dinner, I found myself thinking that if it seemed kind of stereotypical surfer, it probably was part of his personality.
My boyfriend and I also observed a strange fact about eating at nice restaurants lately. People have gone into cafeteria mode. They modify their orders to suit personal tastes, taking this item off the plate but replacing it with this other item. They speak at volumes heard only otherwise used in contacting individuals across a field. They ignore waiters or waitresses, as well as bussers. (Remember when your mom told you that "Thanks" goes a long way?) And then look at other patrons with awe or disgust.
It's here that I mention that at an earlier date, my boyfriend and I went to the same restaurant and watched as, one by one, members of another table took turns looking at the gay boys. To be honest, the faces were priceless, especially when they realized we saw them looking at us. That's the best way to get people embarrased about your sexuality: take note that they notice!
At least the food was good!
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