Just Cured - Experience Fine Foods

We were a party of eight in an upscale restaurant on a Saturday night in a resort city. Well, not exactly a resort city, more like the world’s largest retirement center. Although it was in season, the restaurant was not quite full at 7:30. That was simply one more sign to me of the troubled economy — as if mile-after-mile of “For Sale” signs on expensive beach homes wasn’t clue enough.

Our party ranged in age from 40 to 60. One couple were year round residents of the area, he a prominent public official; one snowbirds in residence from January 1 to April 30; two northerners escaping for a long weekend in the sun. Our table lowered the average age of guests by many years; every other table I saw was populated with octogenarians.

We were in festive moods. My wife and I only get to see the Snowbirds and the Other Escapees a few times a year. We were meeting the Year Rounds for the first time. The Other Escapees and Year Rounds have been friends for decades but hadn’t seen each other in several years. The Snowbirds and Year Rounds have become friends through their mutual friendship with the Other Escapees.

Our time at the restaurant started pleasantly enough. Our server took the drink order of the last arriving couple who were not served in the lounge and presented the wine list to one of the other men in the party.

As the server left, he announced loudly to the holder of the list, but directed to the entire table (and anyone else on that side of the dining room), “if you need any assistance with the list, I am fairly familiar with it.” What? This joint doesn’t have a sommelier. Isn’t his job to be quite snow angels dvdrip download familiar with the list? As I replayed his announcement in my head, I studied the words less and the tone more. There was something dark, almost malevolent about that tone. Uh, oh, I thought.

And sure enough, he re-appeared a few minutes later, nearly pouncing between two of the women who were in full catch-up conversation. Shouting to obtain the attention of the table. Shushing two others who did not stop their conversation immediately. And told us that when he had our full attention, he would then recite the specials of the evening. I felt like one of the nuns had rapped me across the knuckles for talking in class. And as I looked around the table, so did everyone else; seven pairs of confused eyes returned my glances.

The interval from dressing down to his return to take our orders seemed interminable. We were getting the cold shoulder for no reason I could discern. It was just as well, we had a chance to recover a bit of our light moods. The order taking proceeded without incident. And then our server simply disappeared, not to be seen until our meal ended. Someone else delivered our food and took our pastry order. It was just as well; no telling what his next trick might have been.

This server did reappear to drop the check without incident. One of the other men and I split the tab. I should have shorted the tip. In the end, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. My hosts have been fairly regular guests at this place, and I would never embarrass them.

On our way out the door, a manager complimented that she liked my new eyeglasses. I should have stopped and said something to her. As I was near the center of our group, I decided not to hold up our exit. I may still send a note to the restaurant about our experience.

I wasn’t sure the extent to which others in our party paid attention to the treatment we received from that server.† Because our hosts picked the restaurant, I certainly wasn’t going to say anything.† As soon as we got into the car for the ride home, the others commented on our server’s performance and the effect on our evening.† I needn’t have worried about embarrassing our hosts.† They were as appalled as I was.

I was, and still am, shocked at the contrast between the unprofessional conduct of this server and the service I wrote about in this post.† Perhaps the sole reason I decided to write about this experience was that I wrote about the other.† These two experiences occurred precisely one year apart in the same town.† Skeeter and Janet work in restaurants that can charitably described as dives.† And they deliver an unparalleled service experience to their guests.† On the other hand, a place with aspirations hires some jerk with an attitude to serve its guests.† Maybe I’ll suggest to the restaurant’s manager that he send his service staff to either Skeeter’s or Janet’s place for remedial training.† Or find a few employees who can find the word “hospitality” in the dictionary.

Postscript:† To close a loop from last year’s post, Skeeter did permit me to pick up the drinks tab at her place the previous night.