June 15 , 2007
“I’ve been on a diet for two weeks and all I’ve lost is two weeks.” – Totie Fields
THERE ARE LOTS OF THINGS ABOUT DINING that turn me off, or even worse, make me madder ‘n a hoot owl.
First, there are all those names waitresses – never waiters – like to call their customers. “Sweetie”, “Honey”, “Darlin’”, and “Jackass” are some of the most popular. I’d just as soon be called, Hey, you!”
Next on list of dislikes are those catchy phrases W’s (both waiters and waitresses) like to use. There’s “Hi, my name is Jan. I will be serving you tonite” I don’t consider it serving when they throw the food at you. If they want to tell me their name, that’s fine. But stop there. And don’t ask me my name cuz I ain’t gonna tellya.
Right after that, they usually proceed with, “What will WE be having for dinner?” WE ain’t having anything unless THEE plans to pay for it.
There’s the W who memorizes the specials but doesn’t have a clue. You can tell by asking them a question and they stutter.
I love interrupting their speech. Cuz they loose their train of thought, or rather where they were in their “talk”. Sputter sputter. I do love asking questions if nothing else but to have some fun with them and seeing their reactions. Good W’s appreciate it and warm up rapidly. Bad ones get frustrated and lose it altogether,
Then there’s the W who disappears after taking your order and doesn’t reappear til it’s time for the bill or to tell you about the desserts. He probably didn’t even bring your dinner; that was the expeditor.
I don’t like being rushed. You’ve all seen that W or busser who wants to take your plate before you’re finished eating. Sometimes I carry a special super-sized fork with extra sharp, seven-inch long tines. If they even come near my plate: STICKEM! I don’t mind if they ask – once – but when they come back with the “ain’t-you-done” look, the tip goes down.
I was told, once upon a time, that the rule is if there are four or less persons at the table, the W should not attempt to clear until all the diners are done eating. If there are more than four, then its banquet style and ask if the diner wants his plate cleared.
That makes sense to me. I eat unusually fast; others eat unusually slow. I wouldn’t want to be that slow eater sitting there chewing and digesting my food while all the others at the table sit with empty places in front of them. They’d probably feel obligated to stare at me, wishing I were done with my dinner so that they could order dessert.
How about the W who thinks he or she is too good to clear a plate or two? So they keep bringing food even though the table is full of dirty dishes. Next time that happens to you, just toss the dirties on the floor, being sure to break at least some of the good china.
Who decided we should increase the standard tip from 15% to 20%? Someone sed it was cuz of inflation. That can’t be true cuz restaurants have raised their prices along with everyone else, so the W that gets 15% is getting more than he did five or ten years ago just cuz the base price went up. So what’s the reason? How do you tip?
I tip 15-20% for good service, depending on the price of the meals and how often I had contact with the W. I tip even more for very good service. I tip even less for poor service. Or not at all. But then I’m sure to let a manager know.
Should the diner who has an $8 entrée tip the same as a diner who had a $25 entrée? Did the first diner get any worse or better service? I don’t believe tipping for cocktails or wine should be the same as for food. A bottle of wine will vary even more than the entrees in many places, so should I give the W the same percentage for a $20 bottle of wine as an $80 bottle of wine? Do they perform four times the service? When I have drinks in a lounge waiting for a table, I always clear the tab – I don’t plan on tipping my W for the cocktail server’s work.
I try to gauge the service separately from kitchen problems. It’s not the W’s fault the kitchen is slow, nor is it his fault if the food is good or bad. Tip them on the service they provide, not for something they can’t control.
I don’t like “reachers”. You know, the W who could walk around the table but chooses not to. And if it’s possible for them to spill something on me, they will. I’m just that kinda guy. Unless I spill it on myself first.
I now carry Tide® sticks. They’re wonderful. Most of the time they even work. G doesn’t like it when I put on a bib. I have my own bib in my travel pack in the car, just in case I know I’m going to spill. Like when I have Italian food with sauce. Or really anything with sauce. Some eateries are now putting out linen napkins with little buttonholes in them. Very clever. I’ll have to try to steal/borrow a few of those.
I like having water refilled without having to ask, but there are those W’s who wait and watch til you’ve taken a tiny sip and they’re on you like moss on a rock. I hate that. I put lipstick on the glass now at halfway. When the water gets below that, it’s OK to refill.
That’s almost as bad as the old-time waitresses who love to refill your coffee cup without you asking. They never ask you. In the days when I drank coffee, I liked it sweetened. Now the damn thing is full and I don’t have a clue how much sugar to put in. Same with iced tea. I’ll ask when I want more, thank you.
I remember a time many years ago when I knew the W was going to refill my coffee mug without asking. I knew. I saw her walking the room and filling cups, so I very stupidly put my hand over the cup. Dumbest thing I ever did. You know why, doncha? Cuz she poured the coffee on top of my hand. And it was hot. And it hurt my little hand.
Baked potatoes. I don’t like eating them in restaurants. Mostly cuz they’re undercooked and/or tasteless. I’d rather have some good bread. Dr. Stan would prefer me not to have either. No potatoes, rice, pasta, bread. Cuz I have Type 2 diabetes. Which means I’m overweight. Fat. Need to drop a few HUNDRED pounds. I don’t know why doctors put dessert in that category. Those other things are all white. My desserts are usually brown, as in chocolate.
Speaking of chocolate, G and I took our two eldest granddaughters out to dinner a few weeks ago. Their father cautioned Harper (the almost five-year old) to eat her vegetables. The eldest, Emma, eats everything, so there was no need for her dad to remind her. So I told them that chocolate is a vegetable and Harper was a very happy diner. Cuz we had… just a bit of chocolate with our dinner.
Now it’s OFFIC IAL. Chocolate IS a vegetable. So sayeth one of the largest corporations in America. Yes, that’s true. Well, sorta true. Maybe just a bit of truth.
Target Stores – at least the one where G shops – must think so. G and I were there last nite to buy some malted milk balls for a friend of G’s. For the last three visits, over a period of some weeks, they’ve been out of the malted milk balls. So I found a manager who told me – are you ready? – that the refilling of that product fell under the purview of the produce manager. Aha! The produce manager is in charge of chocolate! Therefore, chocolate must be a vegetable. Yes?
Send me your favorite displeasures. I’ll include them in a future column.
Cya.
In his real life Jay Fox is a CPA. He offers all kinds of good tax planning advice, financial calculators and the latest in tax news at his website: www.jayfoxcpa.com. He just writes this column for the money.