Antisocial Hospitality

Just when you think you've found a suitable restaurant, antisocial hospitality reveals itself.

We went out to a restaurant recently. It’s momentous for us because, usually, it all turns out to be a disappointment. The food is usually lacking. It’s too salty or too dry. It’s overcooked to the point of being burnt or undercooked, to the point of being almost raw. 

Sometimes, I like raw food. Sashimi is good. Steak Tartare, although it sounds wrong, is also a treat. But not if I bite into a chicken and it’s pink. That’s just not right. Steak can be pink and be perfect. Not chicken or pork. 

The point to all of this is that going out to eat is always a gamble.

When it has nothing to do with the food, it’s the presentation. And when I say presentation, I am talking about not only the look of the plate when it’s served, but the people that make up the restaurant staff. 

Servers and waitresses have a demanding job. It’s way more difficult than it should be. Working with the public can be a thankless task. Everybody is going through something. Every customer has an opinion on how they think the experience ought to be. 

They also have to deal with management. The restaurant business has ebbs and flows. Sometimes the restaurant does well and sometimes it doesn’t. There is no rhyme or reason to the clientele's reaction. 

It takes a special person to work in the food service industry. To be successful, and to make good money, the server has to smile and bear through the rough times, which is most of the time. Servers have to keep their positive energy elevated even though the circumstances at the moment are challenging. 

The restaurant I referred to at the beginning of this story was a general corporate type. It was busy and there were people waiting for tables to open. The young hostess was bright and cheerful and seated us quickly. 

The antisocial hospitality manager was a different story.

When we walked in the door, he had a scowl on this face. That’s not something a patron wants to see when they first arrive.

If this was some dive bar in a rough part of town, maybe it would've been proper or even preferred. He would not take any nonsense. But, for a family chain restaurant? People like to be welcomed. 

After being seated and waiting to order, I kept myself amused by watching the angry manager patrol the dining room. He was wearing earbuds and ignored and avoided any contact with people that were working for him and the others that were paying his salary. 

The antisocial hospitality manager sneered when someone from his staff dared to stop him and attempted to engage him in conversation. He slumped his shoulders and rolled his eyes as he removed one earbud to hear what they were asking him.

Far be it for him to contribute to the expediency of the service that evening!

No! He treated it like it was an affront! 

Not once did antisocial hospitality Captain Negative stop by a table to ask his customers how he may improve their culinary experience. He didn’t stop by to ask patrons their names or how they chose his place of employment. He did everything he could do physically to show that he wanted no part in interacting with anyone. 

There was a time in my younger days when, upon leaving a restaurant after dinner and a few beers where, just for fun, I would stop by a random table on the way out and say I was the manager. I’d ask the customers how they were enjoying the evening. If the meals were up to their standards.

Then, I’d tell them to say that I said they could get a complimentary dessert on me because I was the manager. I wasn’t. But, at least they had a bite to eat and laugh and were entertained when thinking about the experience. 

Isn’t that the point? 

Photo by Jason Leung on Unsplash