Restaurants and Character

     This was written on 28 June 2010

     My summer so far has been less than interesting. Since leaving University, I went to San Antonio and took a job, waiting tables, on the San Antonio Riverwalk. It has been O.K. I waited tables for close to eight years, previously, so this new place is, well nothing new. But it reminds me of why I went back to college. It isn’t a bad way to make a living, but it isn’t ideal. One thing about waiting tables, or any service job, is that it gives you an insight into some of the silliest people that the human race has to offer.

     Here is the thing. You can tell a lot about a person by how they act in a restaurant. I mean, people come to restaurants and can turn from the nicest person to the biggest a-holes very quickly. They treat the waitstaff shabbily. If they have children, they let them run wild and then the servers become babysitters. I see loud cell phone conversations as if that person is the only one in the place. The list can go on forever and there are plenty of websites out there that will be happy to tell you what a-holes people are in restaurants. But for me, I think how people act in a restaurant tells you how they are in life, for the most part. Allow me to explain.

     Eating with people and golf can reveal how people really are. When you spend that much time with someone in an intimate, interactive setting, there is no script. You can’t always control your surroundings. And how you react in this setting when unexpected things occur reveal a lot about yourself. And how you treat the staff usually reflects on how you treat others in life that may “service” you, for example the mail clerk, secretary gardener, etc. My big thing, in a restaurant, is how people tip. This is not because I wait tables. I look to see if you are adequately compensating someone for their time and efforts. For me, this speaks volumes about how you would conduct business. If you are willing nickel and dime or flat out screw the server or bartender that means that you don’t put value on a person’s time or service. And that means we probabkly won’t do business or be friends.

I’m serious. I have broken up friendships over this issue.

People touching people they don't know . . .I got issues.

     I can be a touchy feely guy.  I love touching my friends.  Pat on the back.  Hugs.  Leg humping (awkward . . . yet known to happen).  However, I don't like people I don't know touching me.  I dislike people I barely know touching me.  I gained this phobia from working in restaurants.  It's true.  The following is a true story.

     I saw a table walk in.  I was in the back of the house (restaurant area where all the "magic" happens).  I walk over meet, greet, food and beverage order.  Before I bring their drinks, I wash my hands.  Drop them off, being careful not to touch the rims of the glass (personal pet peeve,  that s--t is unsanitary).  Go to the back to prep some other stuff.  Check on the table.  Before I go back, I decide to wash my hands in the bathroom, in the front of the house (dining area).  I go in, use the bathroom stall, come out and wash.  During this process, the guy that I am serving came in, took a leak.  As I am washing, he finishes up and walks out of the bathroom, WITHOUT WASHING HIS HANDS!

     I try not to panic.  S--t is disgusting.  But, whatever.  I drop off the food. Everything is swell.  I am watching this guy eat and I am just a little repulsed.  Now, let me explain.  I have been places where soap and water have not been readily available.  I can excuse that.  But if there is soap or, at the minimum, water, use it.  At the end of the meal, the guy wanted to thank me and shake my hand and give compliments.  While he was doing this, my only thought was, "Please. Take your DICK BEATERS OFF OF ME, you nasty pig."

     I wish I had a witty end to this story, but I don't. Washing hands is beneficial.  It prevents the spread of disease.   Just do it.  And, because of people like that, I can't trust you touching me if I don't know you.  Even at that, I will ask you if you washed your hands.  And I will smell them, jerk. And if I don't believe you, I have sanitizer in my bag.  I don't care if you get offended.  Give your H1N1 to someone else.  

     Below is a video that really explains this situations in restaurants.