Waitstaff Hate Me
I'm really beginning to think there is something to this.
It seems that 90% of the times that I dine out, there is always a problem. Either the waitstaff forget to bring something, screw up the check, are out of a certain dish that we ordered, or something.
My friend Gregg seems to think that I'm the common denominator because he never has problems except for when I'm present. I, on the other hand, have developed a new theory; perhaps he is the cause of all the problems because since I had dinner with him that one time at Max's Cafe in Core Madera (?), every visit to a restaurant has become an excercise in patience and self-denial. Before that fateful trip to Max's, I don't recall having problems.
Perhaps part of my problem stems from the fact that I have unreasonably high expectations from the Waitstaff. Perhaps it's too much to assume that fetching a glass of water should take longer than - say,... 90 seconds. Perhaps I should recalibrate my compass and expect water to get to me as if that water was frozen in the center of a massive glacier. Then, when the waitstaff brings the water after 40 minutes and scowls at me when they deliver it, I will be happy it came sooner than the next ice age (or global heat wave, as the trendy ones prefer.)
Yet another incident occurred yesterday at my first experience at SFO Pizzeria in Fremont.
To summarize, the waitstaff offered apple juice to my daughter and then returned to tell her they were all out.
The waitstaff offered the shrimp and crab fondue appetizer and then returned later to inform us they were just kidding. That was out of stock as well.
It seems that 90% of the times that I dine out, there is always a problem. Either the waitstaff forget to bring something, screw up the check, are out of a certain dish that we ordered, or something.
My friend Gregg seems to think that I'm the common denominator because he never has problems except for when I'm present. I, on the other hand, have developed a new theory; perhaps he is the cause of all the problems because since I had dinner with him that one time at Max's Cafe in Core Madera (?), every visit to a restaurant has become an excercise in patience and self-denial. Before that fateful trip to Max's, I don't recall having problems.
Perhaps part of my problem stems from the fact that I have unreasonably high expectations from the Waitstaff. Perhaps it's too much to assume that fetching a glass of water should take longer than - say,... 90 seconds. Perhaps I should recalibrate my compass and expect water to get to me as if that water was frozen in the center of a massive glacier. Then, when the waitstaff brings the water after 40 minutes and scowls at me when they deliver it, I will be happy it came sooner than the next ice age (or global heat wave, as the trendy ones prefer.)
Yet another incident occurred yesterday at my first experience at SFO Pizzeria in Fremont.
To summarize, the waitstaff offered apple juice to my daughter and then returned to tell her they were all out.
The waitstaff offered the shrimp and crab fondue appetizer and then returned later to inform us they were just kidding. That was out of stock as well.
The waitstaff offered to take a replacement order from us but neglected to bring us a menu.
The waitstaff pretended that our burger was going to be ready in '5 more minutes' after we've already consumed most of the pizza and were already full; but the truth is more likely that they forgot to make the burgers until we were half-way through the meal.
The waitstaff pretended that our burger was going to be ready in '5 more minutes' after we've already consumed most of the pizza and were already full; but the truth is more likely that they forgot to make the burgers until we were half-way through the meal.
The waitstaff brought a strawberry white cake that would have been more accurately described as "white cake; sans fruit or berries of any kind".
Then, when the waitstaff brought our check, they decided they would charge us for the shrimp and crab fondue that they meant to keep in stock but was, in fact, nowhere on the premises.
Sometimes I wonder if there are deadly dragons in the kitchen that the waitstaff have to gallantly battle while preparing our meals and drinks. Or perhaps the inner workings of restauranteering is much more complex than I imagine. I'm now thinking there are Bunsen burners, Tesla coils, half-man-half-bison monstrosities held behind unbreakable steel cages, and a lot of math involved in bringing a strawberry white cake that actually has strawberries on it.
Waitstaff have one job: wait on you. What is so difficult about that? They even have notepads on which they can write down the things you say so that they don't have to spend brainpower to remember what you said. They need only the ability to read their own handwriting to be successful at their jobs.
Seriously; am I asking too much?
Then, when the waitstaff brought our check, they decided they would charge us for the shrimp and crab fondue that they meant to keep in stock but was, in fact, nowhere on the premises.
Sometimes I wonder if there are deadly dragons in the kitchen that the waitstaff have to gallantly battle while preparing our meals and drinks. Or perhaps the inner workings of restauranteering is much more complex than I imagine. I'm now thinking there are Bunsen burners, Tesla coils, half-man-half-bison monstrosities held behind unbreakable steel cages, and a lot of math involved in bringing a strawberry white cake that actually has strawberries on it.
Waitstaff have one job: wait on you. What is so difficult about that? They even have notepads on which they can write down the things you say so that they don't have to spend brainpower to remember what you said. They need only the ability to read their own handwriting to be successful at their jobs.
Seriously; am I asking too much?
1 comment:
i don't think you ask too much. however, the man with no expectations is never disappointed. i was thinking about this the other day and i was thinking that maybe this kind of stuff happens to me more than i realize. but that's the thing, either i don't realize it, or it's not a big deal. for example, i left sfo that day thinking only about how good the deep dish pizza crust was and when i could get back there. funny, huh? of course i was a little miffed the other time that the lady kept avoiding giving us free smoothie samples...
g
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