Wrong Number
By Kate Harrigan
There’s been a lot of editorializing over the past couple of years about a wave of incivility, punctuated by the occasional road-rage-related shooting, that is leaving the country awash in hurt feelings. Poor service in the hospitality industry is hardly news, but people in the business ought to be aware that, as bad manners rage epidemic, customers are not becoming inured to the discourteous behavior of those who profess to serve them. In fact, many are quite sensitized to the whole issue, and are a lot less likely than ever to smile in the face of contempt.
Each month, Chef magazine interviews "Average Diner" in "Scope," reporting his or her hopes and expectations, desires and disappointments. Reading a few of these interviews makes clear how similar we all are, no matter how different the places we come from or the lives we lead. People, whether walking into a white-tablecloth restaurant in San Francisco or a simple neighborhood bistro in New York, want to be greeted with a warm smile and waited on by a polite and efficient server.
As editors, not once have we heard, "I like those restaurants where some person who looks like she hasn’t eaten in four months greets me at the door with a disdainful yet haughty expression and makes me chase after her while she stalks across the restaurant to my table." Okay, so a handful of readers already are penning their responses in defense of contemptuous hosts and superior servers. But the truth is that most people are just looking for a little tenderness.
The alarming demise of basic manners at some restaurants came up at a recent editorial meeting, the topic rung in by indignant editors who had fallen victim to various ill-mannered restaurant managers and hosts. One editor had spent five minuets on hold the previous day, standing at a pay phone in a strange city trying to make a restaurant reservation. "I lost my quarter. I certainly didn’t feel special," he said. "No wonder there are so many of those online reservation services. You don’t have to talk to anybody."
My own impressions of an establishment I was writing about changed considerably after I called to confirm the spelling of the chef’s last name. The woman who answered the phone asked me who I was and then put me on hold before I could answer. At any rate, I certainly hope she thought I couldn’t hear her say, "Bite me."
Another editor told of calling a Boston restaurant and asking to speak with the manager. She simply wanted to find out if they served a tapenade, she said. She was a bit taken aback when the manager picked up the phone and said, "Yeah, what’s your problem?"
Do these people receive a lot of calls from process servers?
On stress and aggravation scale, I’d say working in a restaurant falls somewhere between answering the phone at a computer help desk and working triage in an emergency room on a Saturday night. People calling for reservations radiate an air of entitlement that ought to be reserved for the owner’s mother. Diners vent the day’s frustration on waitstaff and other innocent bystanders. And there are times when the customer is, quite frankly, wrong.
But despite the tide of boorishness and discourtesy lapping at the steps of our dining establishments, the best defense against such behavior remains scrupulous manners. Those unwilling or unable to respond in kind will find it more difficult to escalate the confrontation. And the more emotionally flexible may find themselves enjoying their meal.
Published in Chef magazine, July 2000
