Washington Post food scribe Tom Sietsema recently shared an anecdote with readers of his “Sietsema’s Table” discussion group about a relatively inappropriate comment from a server. Readers shared their comments, embarrassing stories, and the occasional faux pas. During my decade-plus of food service work, I am fairly certain sure that I probably said infinitely worse things, and most likely to a table full of goodly old nuns. There’s nothing wrong with being engaging and friendly to your customers, and a well-placed bon mot can win over a table of even the surliest of eaters. Still, it’s vital for servers to keep most comments inside their head, where the words can’t hurt the diner…or the tip! You never know what might be absolutely hilarious to some could be completely insulting to others.
After reading the stories, I figure that I must be the luckiest diner in the D.C. area. Other than some occasional minor service mistakes, I’ve never had any servers who’ve completely embarrassed themselves with an inappropriate comment. I’ve never had that evening where everything has become a complete disaster. It also doesn’t hurt that I’m pretty much impossible to offend – I did stand-up comedy and morning show radio for years, and I’m not sure if there’s a video of me somewhere on the InterTubes involving former Bay Area performance artist “Extreme Elvis,” comedian Tanyalee Davis, Las Vegas and full-frontal nudity. (WRITER NOTE – I would advise you to not Google that at work. It happened back in 2002, before every cell phone came armed with a camera, so I might have escaped unharmed, but it also took place at a VERY unconventional wedding, and I’m a-feared footage of the event might rear its ugly head should I ever run for public office. I haven’t found evidence of my specific event yet, but Googling “Extreme Elvis” could lead to some very NSFW tales. Save them for home and share them only with people who thought “2 Girls, 1 Cup” was high comedy).
Sure, I’ve had servers bring me the wrong order, or put in my order incorrectly, or fail to warn me that my arch nemesis, the mushroom, was indeed in a certain dish – fellow FUD writer Jason and I had that experience at a Malaysian restaurant last year. Fortunately, most of these slip-ups are easy to fix. Put in my order, re-cook the food, knock a buck or two off my check – whatever. I’m easy to please and hard to offend…BUT…don’t compare me to Seth Rogan. At least not while my mom’s boss is in town, and I had to play local tour guide of our fine city.
This happened to me the other day at one of the establishments in José Andrés stable. I won’t name the specific one to keep from embarrassing the young lady who made the comment, who (I’m hoping) meant it as a compliment. On humid days, my locks do get awfully unruly, and a quick hop on Jezebel.com shows that he and I wear similar glasses, or at least did for the “Zack and Miri Make a Porno” premiere. He’s not as sloppy-looking as he was in “The 40 Year Old Virgin” and seems to be cleaning and toning up a bit for the upcoming “Green Hornet.” I’ve heard that I resemble Sean Astin, or Jim Breuer, or even Pavel Bure, but this was a first for Mr. Rogen.
However, to my mom’s boss, it sounded like an insult. She did not think that I looked one bit like the lovable-but-hardly-classically-handsome stoner character he so often portrays. Had she been the one paying the bill, the tip would have been dramatically smaller than what I left – a generous amount to cover the otherwise fine service and exceptional food. I have to admit, I don’t really see the resemblance, either, but it does remind me to break out some more sit-ups and to possibly get a haircut.
-RAY
