You Don't Have to be Rich to Rule My World

Not that YOU'LL ever own one of these heavy chunks of metal,
but Spock is not impressed even if you do.

In relation to my last post about sort of basing my actions on cues from my customers - I thought I could share a few minor tips with you that may help you to receive slightly better service when you eat at a sit-down restaurant. Perhaps much better service even.

This one's particularly long, and not particularly funny by the way...

I know that when you dine out, some of you perhaps put more than a little time and thought into judging your server than others. Some people hardly acknowledge our existence, while for others of you, talking about your server actually constitutes a significant part of your conversation for the evening.

I think it will serve you well to know that quite often, we're judging you as well. And in most cases, talking about you too.

You're judging us by certain criteria, as we are you. You're adding and knocking off points ... and guess what? We're doing the same.

Being wealthy or well-dressed are not among the factors that most readily come into play for us when sizing you up, by the way. Most servers can attest that many rich people are also among the stingiest ("... they obviously intend to stay rich by not giving me their money" we often sarcastically say, after bitterly wincing at a 15% tip from a holder of a legendary Black American Express Card for example). Racial stereo-types, while admittedly rampant amongst some servers, fail us as well, and a server with much experience at all will have learned their lesson and moved past such thinking (I'll tell you my story on that soon).

Auto-grats on larger parties aside, waiting tables is a crap-shoot, as we really have no idea or set formulas for knowing whether putting "extra effort" into offering great service to you will pay off or not. Some of us may think we do when we're young at this, but over time we realize there are very, very few reliable indicators to go by on exactly "who" will be a great tipper or who will be a crappy one.

Many of us will say that we have learned "to give the exact same level of good service that we can to everybody, and treat everybody the same, because you never know, and just can't judge..." and I'd count myself among the number of servers who operate from that general philosophy.

Yet my last entry brought to my mind that that's not exactly true, no matter how convincingly I lie to myself about it, or wish it were true. I do in fact base at least some of my actions on some overall generalities I've picked up on about guests' behavior that I've observed in nearly twenty-five years of waiting tables and bartending. And Surprise, Surpise... to me it's safe to say that YOU as a customer have much more control over how much attention any particular server is going to pay to you, and how we're going to prioritize you over other guests in the restaurant (if a choice is called for on our part, that is) - than I think you will ever realize.

And here (BIG SECRET!!!!) is exactly what we're looking for : Have you ever even eaten out in a restaurant before, or is this really your first time getting out of the house? Are you a "very experienced diner" who eats out regularly, and therefore most likely knows the culture and norms of the restaurant experience -OR- or are you the type who maybe only gets out on your birthday, Mothers' Day, Valentine's or maybe New Years' Eve? ...The shifts we routinely refer to as "Amatuer Night."

If you do happen to fall into the latter category (and I'm not judging you for this) I'm here to tell you how to be treated as if you don't, because most even semi-experienced servers are going to react and treat you according to this scale, and we all eventually become quite proficient at picking up on even the subtlest of cues from you that answer this question for us.

As a public service I'm just telling you that quite often your behavior - from before you even sit down sometimes - plays as much into the quality of service you're going to receive, as does how "good" your server really is, or isn't.

So in case you haven't picked up on this from me yet, the amount of Politeness and Respect guests display towards us are quick indicators to us on where exactly you fall on this scale.

To wit, if I greet your table warmly and say "How are you doing tonight?" (which I never ask, but for the sake of argument) and you answer "Iced tea" you have already gotten off on a really bad foot with me, and with every server in America.

Answering a server's greeting with your drink order is neither polite nor respectful. Doing so goes a long way towards telling us that you don't exactly view us as human beings, and are probably not going to be inclined to treat us as one either. And by "human being" I mean someone who works hard for a living in a respectable profession, who deserves to be well paid if excellent service and phenomenal recommendations are rendered to you.

No, what you're telling me is that you're probably the type who takes for granted that people everywhere are supposed to cater to your every whim, and that the whole world must bow down to your greatness, owing you their subservience based solely upon... um, nothing. You don't VALUE people's humanity or their labors on your behalf, and you probably won't pay for such either, succinctly sums up what I just heard from you. So with just this one little rude and dismissive failed interaction on your part, you've begun a process of detatching your server from your table - emotionally for certain - and quite often physically as well, perhaps right when you want them around the most.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not looking to make a new best friend out of you or anybody I wait on. It's just that we're taught and instructed to greet you in a welcoming manner and to make eye contact. If dining out often and tipping well is part of who you are, then you know this. You expect it, and you'll play the game.

These initial moments are also crucial to us "reading the table" in our attempt to figure out exactly what you want from us today. If you want us to make ourselves scarce so that you can talk amongst yourselves without lots of interruption, we'll figure that out on our own usually, based upon how little you talk to us in an initiating or engaging way. And that's fine, we're glad to oblige. If you get out much, then I know I'll be rewarded financially by you for figuring that out and for respecting and meeting that need, rather than smothering you with my charm and personality and ability to make small talk with complete strangers. Nonetheless, for job security if nothing else, I may have to go through a "special" or two at the beginning of our interaction while also trying to sell you an appetizer. If you're anywhere near being a sophisticated diner, you'll know this too, and patiently let me do my thing.

How you respond and interact (or not) with our little spiel at the beginning of the meal - and during the routine process of delivering drinks and taking the rest of your order - often has a great impact on the type of service you're going to receive the rest of the meal. If you're polite, attentive, and even just somewhat respectful to your server, expect it to come back you. These are very positive indicators to us that you dine out frequently enough to understand the norms of the profession so well as to expect them as part of receiving what you know is good service. When we observe this, we're most likely going to act as if that level of understanding will be reflected in your understanding of tipping norms as well. In short, we will be optimistic enough about our chances of being tipped well to want to work even harder to earn it.

If you're rude, short and dismissive though, we'll feel unwelcome and unwanted at your table, and eventually make ourselves scarcer and scarcer to avoid the whole Pavlovian having our feelings hurt thing. The questions we might want to ask to help us know what will make this a truly great dining experience for you will go unasked, and our service levels will start to wane. Dramatically. Why would I want to bother asking a guy if he'd like fresh cracked pepper on his Caesar salad or New York Strip steak, if every time I approach the table he glares and makes me feel like I'm interrupting something?

Because it's my job.....? Seriously, don't make me laugh.

There's a world of difference between doing my job, and "interrupting" sir, and I do know where the line is. If you do also, I'll be able to tell, and I will be able to offer you a better dining experience than if you plainly show me you don't "get" where that line should be drawn. I don't even have to "ask you" about the pepper, per se, or talk every time I approach your table. I'm fine just walking up with the grinder in hand and offering it to you non-verbally, but to benefit from my offer a little eye contact and at least a nod from you would be required... y'know, unless acknowledging my existence is just somehow beyond you.

Or maybe you'd enjoy trying "a free taster" of some really superior craft beer that you didn't know we carry, but from what you ordered initially I think you'll really, really love... but if I'm being treated as an intrusion to your life maybe I'll just keep quiet instead. Then later, I'll just let you wander aimlessly around the building to find the bathroom yourself rather than being nearby and available each and every time you might possibly need me.

We waiters can be somewhat passive-aggressive like that.

Or maybe I'll view that moment as my chance to finally connect with you and offer you great service. Who knows?

Dude all I'm saying is that many of my co-workers and I are a wealth of information. Beyond being lowly hourly chumps who can't hold "a real job" (as some of you say), we are resources you could really benefit from tapping, if you'd just take a second to consider that many of us are indeed highly trained professionals with years of experience who happen know a lot more about a very few things than you ever will.

For instance, I happen to know that for just $5 more than the bottle you picked out, you could instead order the Cabernet that won the Double-Gold Medal award at the San Francisco International Wine Competition last year, and is therefore now completely sold out on the internet and extremely hard to find. BUT we've got three bottles left and one of them could be yours ... priceless information which I'm all too glad to share, if I think you respect my opinion enough to allow me ten seconds to tell you about it.

Of course you might wonder "How" could someone who makes $2.13 an hour know much of anything about so many different $100+ bottles of wine? If you're thinking that surely I can't afford enough of those myself to have tried them all, then you'd be absolutely correct. However, we do have wine classes and tastings from time-to-time. The liquor reps or restaurants invest a little time and a few bottles so that the staff will know their product and be able to sell it for them with enthusiasm and authority. Simple. That's not how I know so much about this one however. Last month a table left about three ounces of this yummy goodness behind (because "TouchDown" is a phenomenal salesman who got them to order more than they really needed or could responsibly enjoy) and so we tried it ourselves in the kitchen. Loving it, I spent close to half an hour Googling this particular wine on a slower night for reviews and descriptive information, just so I could convincingly recommend this particular slice of vino heaven to those few lucky future guests who might value my opinion. So, do you feel lucky punk?

Lest ye think I'm venting about someone in particular, I'm not. I'm channeling my - and thousands of other servers' - collective frustrations just to illustrate for you exactly how my experience can help you to get better service and preferential treatment for the rest of your life when you go out. You can thank me later.

Well maybe all of this hoity-toity wine talk on my part isn't your cup of tea however. Maybe you mostly dine modestly at the same places regularly on your lunch break, and you've already figured out what you like when you go there. So why should you look at your unskilled labor-pool server as anything other than an order-taker, who eventually will be replaced by an automated computer system anyways, right? Well, unlike computer touchscreens, we eat here too. A lot. And we experiment sometimes too, because eating the same thing has gotten old for us. Some eye contact, politeness and respect, and a willingness to acknowledge your server's humanity could be rewarded in unexpected ways.

For example, that college-girl single mom that waits on you all the time, eats the same sandwich that you order all the time. However, she's figured out that it's SO much better if you change this cheese for that cheese, add some of this sauce, and get the cook to pan saute the bread with garlic butter rather than simply toasting it. Have it her way for once, and viola! You've just received a masterpiece for lunch that left your co-workers drooling, just by being slightly more personable with your waitress than the last twenty times she waited on you. Turns out she has a brain and is good for something other than just tea refills after all.

At times we're admittedly going to be too busy to really let our true personalities and gifts shine through for you, but there are also plenty of times when you can get much more "service" out of a server just by being polite enough to want to find out what this particular human being can bring to your dining experience that a robot can't. The trick to learning just what that is lies in understanding that anybody who can earn a living in this profession is in part a "people-pleaser" by nature. Tips aside, there's just something in us that actually motivates us from the inside-out to want to do right by you. Of course we're here to make money, but we also like to go home feeling like we nailed it, and did a really good job today. Feeling like we stretched ourselves to do something unique for someone who appreciated it, plus having a neat story to tell to our significant others or our co-workers, actually gets us off in some strange way.

In my case, way back when I wasn't all hoity-toity, didn't take my job or life that seriously, and was just slugging my way through shift-to-shift existence at Ruby Tuesday, I was still "that one guy" who would make you a salad so that you didn't have to get up to go to the salad bar. The stipulation was "You are not allowed to tell me what you want on your salad. If there's anything you hate or are allergic to then tell me, but otherwise you're eating what I eat. If Guy is making you a salad, then you're getting a "Guy Salad" and you're going to love it."

Whatever it is, most servers do have something unique to bring to the table (pun intended) that can make your dining experience so much more memorable and enjoyable than the last ten times you ate out, so long as we pick up somehow from you that you're worthy of showering you with our best.

Now, we're just as likely to pick up on cues of unsophistication from you of course, and one of the biggest red flags for us would be obvious indicators of "cheapness" on your part...


Even more whining from me, and more tips on how to get better service coming up soon.


But first, this true story from around 1989, back when if you worked in a restaurant, you could get served alcohol in one, no matter how old you were :


We're off work and sitting around enjoying cocktails at the "other" Ruby Tuesday in town.

Kim joins us, downs a shot, and then says "I've got a bone to pick with you Guy Malone."

"What's that?" I ask quite insincerely.

"I had a table tonight, that wanted me to make them a salad (hiccup) thanks to you."

"So did you?"

"No!" she says "We have a Salad Bar" I told them.

"Well Guy makes us a salad" they said. So I said "Well maybe you should have asked for his section."

"And you know what they said to me? They said "WE DID. But his section was full. Yours is empty. Maybe that should tell you something!"

"Oh yeah" I reply, smirking. "I said Hi to them at the Salad Bar. They told me they were going to call ahead next time and make sure I was their waiter. They're great tippers. It would have been worth your time to make them salads."

"Well they stiffed me. I hate you Guy Malone." she says.

Well Kim probably went on to graduate college and is now doing fine in some profession of her own, and I'm still waiting tables more than twenty years later.

I guess it's hard to tell who got the last laugh, but I still think it's funny.

So whether I've wasted my life or am doing exactly what I'm best at and was born to do, I don't know.

Either way, I'm hoping you're benefiting from my experience.