The Grand Manner: A Waiter Rant

20 Oct

TheInsideWaiter is about to take an unprecedented step: rant on another waiter.

We all perform as waiters; we play the part.  It’s hard to approach hundreds of strangers every night without a mask, or a costume for that matter (I remember one time my restaurant ran out of aprons, and I felt completely naked approaching tables). Some waiters, however, take the waiter-act to a tragic extreme.

[ENTER, the waiter from Vice Versa].

After walking past Vice Versa about seventy times on 51st st., I decided to try it out with my boyfriend and his parents, who were visiting from San Francisco.  Unfortunately, nobody told our waiter that we were in Hell’s Kitchen, not a period Restoration Drama. He simply was too much.

Every bow, every grand manner, felt like an affront. He delivered the menus with such magical pretension, that I half expected wild white doves to fly from the pages.

Selecting the wine was a scene in itself: “The Frog’s Leap Sauvignon Blanc, Sir.” Our waiter presented the bottle before my guest like a loaded revolver. Were we about to make a toast, or commence a round of Russian Roulette?  Our waiter performed the latter circumstance. And we all know that a gun presented in Act-I, must go off in Act-III.

I don’t think my San Francisco guests knew what was happening to them; they had fallen under his server spell; but me and my New Yorker comrade knew better: this waiter was a first-class jerk, or just another failed forty-something actor with a four person audience. Either way, we were stuck with an unwanted 7pm matinée, and a waiter who was delivering lines like we were the geriatrics in attendance.

I can’t really complain about the service; it was impeccable; indeed, our server didn’t miss a beat, and I envied him for having such an attentive, communicative support staff.  His intoning just made the experience so uncomfortable, that I couldn’t enjoy it.

I started with the Insalata Di Cuori Di Palma con Avocado, Pomodoro, Basilico e Salsa di Limone (That’s Italian for a sophisticated, but surprisingly small, hearts of palm salad, at $14.00).  I went with the server’s recommendation for the main, “The Strangled Priest,” pasta with duck ragout and black Gaeta olives ($19).  The pasta was a little overcooked, and the duck ragout wasn’t really a ragout, so much as dry duck with tomatoes.  I needed crushed red pepper to get through it.

As far as our waiter was concerned, we were nibbling away at ambrosia.  He kept the act up through the final bow, bill in hand. I felt a little bad for him; but I swear: You make me go to a matinée, and I’ll be the one using that revolver.

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2 Responses to “The Grand Manner: A Waiter Rant”

  1. I Get To Be Anonymous Too October 22, 2010 at 6:26 pm #

    Love the site and this would annoy me too, but reading the food review is like reading Yelp reviews. It’s always just so creatively mean spirited.

    But, having said that. I love this blog!

    • theinsidewaiter October 22, 2010 at 9:13 pm #

      Thanks for the feedback, and for your readership.

      I am still trying to find the focus of this blog. I don’t want this blog just to be a rant.

      I’d be curious which posts you enjoy the most, and why you enjoy them. And what you would like to see more of.

      If you are a waiter, Mr./Ms. Anonymous, I would also love for you to contribute to the SHIFT DRINKIN’ page.

      Best.

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