Back to the Grind

Dear. Good. Holy. God. I'm back working in restaurants. It could be worse, I realize. I could be back to trash collecting, sewage pump cleaning, or gay porn. But there is something terribly, terribly wrong with me serving people. It's not that the job is difficult. Certainly, it can be for some folks. I just did it for so long that there is no longer a whole lot of challenge. (In fact, the challenge I give myself now is to see how close to the line I can step. You know, the line that keeps you employed? Yeah, that line.) The more I consider the whole thing, the more it occurs to me that the reason it makes so little sense for me to be in the service industry is that, well, you see, I dislike people.

Oh sure, as individuals, people are great. One by one, people are fascinating, intricate, and funny creatures. Even the perceptibly boring ones can provide moments of distraction, if nothing else. No, it definitely is not a situation where I am a misanthropist. I just don't like people. People who need to impress their friends with their knowledge (which most often comes close to what most industry employees learn by their 2nd year), people who love to laugh too loudly at jokes that aren't funny, and people who like to belittle service workers because they make so much more than the service workers all have a special ring in hell devoted to them.

People who think 15% is above and beyond the call of duty, who think tips is an acronym for To Insure Prompt Service, who think incorrectly prepared food is the server's fault, and people who think Sunday afternoon is the right time to dine are all beginners who make the job so much worse than it need be. And wine buyers who sniff the cork, who don't bother smelling their wine before tasting it, and who attempt to return a wine because they don't like it are all guilty of an idiocy that goes far beyond the trite "the customer is always right".

No, I say, the customer is not always right. It is perfectly reasonable to return a wine that is cooked or corked. It is not reasonable to return a wine that a guest does not care for, because, frankly, it's the customer's responsibility to know what he or she likes. Tantamount to returning a rainbow trout to the kitchen because it is too fishy, this type of action incenses industry workers and shows a lack of respect for the process, the traditions, and the sense of fair play.

Immensely pleasurable are those guests who know the role of guest. Those who imbibe in the atmosphere of low lighting, the murmur of pleasurable company, and the feel of heavy silverware are the best kinds of guests. These are they who swirl their wine aggressively and inhale with half their face in the bowl of the wine glass. When these people lift their heads, eyes half-closed, and faces blank in ecstasy, there is never a question. These professional guests most often will make eye contact, nod at the server, and gesture to their table mates. These are the people that I love, respect, and appreciate serving.

These guests dine on Tuesday nights or, at most, Thursday nights because they know these are nights where service is at its best and restaurants are at their operational peaks. These guests are meticulous in their orders, and never ask, "Are you sure you can remember all this?" These guests understand that sometimes the people next to them who arrived later might be served first, especially if that table is eating pasta, and their own table is enjoying a Chateaubriand.

Gratuity to these guests is a word whose etymology hearkens a likeness to 'gratitude'. These guests don't look at a bill to determine the service quality. These guests will tip 30% or higher and think nothing of it. Not because of any great personal worth, but more because a server's performance has genuinely earned it. Guests like these recognize effort, professionalism, and quality. Unsurprisingly, these are those people who drive expensive vehicles that may be a few years old. They know how to spend their money with their whole being, heart, mind, and soul.

These guests are modest in their conversation, intelligent in their intercourse, and quiet in their comport. Their humor is understated and tactful, rarely offensive or demeaning. Their opinions are interesting, and they are the folks who offer a glass to their server. Education to these guests is a lifelong process; the server is yet another source of information. Disagreements with their service staff are always light-hearted and playful. The line of respect is never crossed with this guest. These are guests who fascinate me and make my job worth the paltry sum I earn.

For me these are guests for whom I can only challenge myself to be the best possible service worker I can. These guests are people I hope to impress and for whom I hope to provide an unforgettable dining experience. Every time I serve these people, I set the line that I must leap a little bit higher, to see just how far my experience and instinct can take me. These moments make this job tough, because I make it so. It's at these times I am glad I don't collect trash or clean pumps, and I'm always glad I don't do gay porn. I realize it could always be worse. By dear good holy God.