The first thing I’m obsessed with today is Ubuntu 9.10. Just did a clean install on this desktop, and blah blah blah you don’t want to hear about that. It’s slightly better than the last Ubuntu, as always. You happy?
The second thing I’m obsessing over is this list in the NY Times: 100 things Restaurant Staffers Should Never Do, by Bruce “I’m starting my own seafood restaurant” Buschel. When you make a list like this, it’s always going to be a clearinghouse of your own personal pet peeves, and contain virtually nothing of universal value. What Mr. Buschel does provide is a glimpse into the world of fine dining, where each table has their own personal waitperson/slave and every $200 bill has great value, which of course it does because it’s a $200 bill. Such a place certainly doesn’t suit my temperament or the level of preferred comfort, with its overthought and overpresented cuisine that can usually be trumped by an above-average grilled-cheese sandwich; but for some people, especially NY Times-y people, it is the highest of high culture. It therefore doesn’t surprise me that somebody would try to standardize the service part of these establishments as another arbitrary “barrier to entry” for the unwashed. I’ll put all this another way: Classy people like to be around other classy people; it makes them feel classy. Therefore, they come up with some classy-feeling (but ultimately arbitrary and subject to personal preference) standards to make things seem classier.
The unintended consequence of a list like this is totally giving us a glimpse into the mind of the culturally elite eater. A lot of Mr. Buschel’s 50 rules were things that I never would have guessed classy people prefer. Who knew the rich don’t like to be touched, or that they enjoy looking at their dirty empty plates after dinner? I think this calls for a different kind of list — 10 things this list says about fine diners:
10. They think they are a different species than the waitstaff, and don’t want to have any sort of human-subhuman interaction with them. (#7, 10, 38-50)
9. They think that “My pleasure” is something that people say non-ironically in 2009. This means they probably never watch TV, or see movies, or engage popular culture in any way. (#41)
8. They don’t like to be touched, and they assume that service workers are germy. In fairness, they’re probably right about this. (#12, 13, 28, 32)
7. They take compliments to other people as slights to themselves. From this, we can determine that they are mentally disturbed and possibly sociopathic.(#40, 42, 46)
6. They don’t drink beer, or soft drinks, or coffee, or tea, or anything you or I might drink. They expect free water, and they drink wine. Oh my gosh, do they drink wine. (#6, 22-30)
5. They do not like to answer questions, especially from you. (#2, 6, 18, 48)
4. …Unless those questions have to do with their precious wine, because God forbid you serve it in a bucket of ice or even pour it without asking them first. Oh, the humanity. (#26, 27)
3. Amuse-bouche is a real term that hasn’t yet been replaced by something better, even though at this point just about anything would sound better. This tells us that they like speaking French. (#4)
2. Their constitutions are so delicate that they can’t handle even the sound of other human conversation. Nor can they handle non-classy smells. (#33-36, 47).
1. Not only that, but every interaction with them must be done with the utmost of care so as to not disturb their waking classy slumber. You might think, then, that the ideal restaurant would have well-programmed robots instead of servers. But you would be wrong – ironically, they’d just complain about the servers being too “robotic.” (#9) From this, we can determine that they are impossible to please. The best course of action is therefore to have nothing to do with them.
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The article in question created quite a comment firestorm — 1158 comments in three days! When it comes to food service, everyone has their 2 cents to contribute. Aren’t you glad I decided to put my opinions aside and scientifically study these fine New York diners? Perhaps one day we will come to an understanding of why these people are the way they are. It’s probably genetic, or buried deep within the folds of their head-brains. In any case, could somebody pass me a grilled-cheese sandwich?
