Have you been downsized, outsourced, or just plain
shit-canned from your job? Consider
returning to school to get a degree in the growing field of restaurant
seatology. Restaurant seatologiststs are
those well-coiffed mysterious looking folks wearing wireless-radio headsets and
toting clipboards who stare you down when you enter most food
establishments. They all sport a rehearsed
ceramic smile that would make a Doberman submissively incontinent.
“Welcome to Olive Lobster restaurant. How many in your party?” (You answer, “Two please, and we would prefer
a booth by the window.” The greeting-seatologist’s
razor sharp smile turns to a full snarl.)
“Ahem, WELL, we will SEE what we can do.” (At this point,
the greeting-seatologist mumbles something into her microphone to the
seating-seatologist about some lowlife troublemaker wanting a booth. They exchange words for a few moments, glance
down at their clipboards, and then several waitresses are called into the
conference. After many tense moments, a
decision is finally reached.)
“Sir, there will be a twenty-minute wait for a booth. “(At
this point, you ask why there will be a wait, pointing out that the restaurant
is nearly empty and that there are clean booths right by the window.)
“SIR, that section is closed.” (For the entertainment of the other
customers, you ask in your loudest, most incredulous tone of voice, “Why is it
closed? Is there a problem with the
Health Department?”)
“NO! SIR, the
waitress for that area has gone home and we have nobody assigned to it!” (You
in turn point out that a waitress is serving a party seated across the aisle
from the row of empty booths, a mere five steps away.)
“SIR, we have a system whereby all of the work is divided
equally between all the staff for better customer service. You can either take a table now (with the
unpadded chairs, paralyzing backache guaranteed) or we will have a booth
available for you in about twenty minutes.” (You now ask to speak to the
manager, or you sulk back outside and go to another restaurant, or you tuck
your tail between your legs and go sit where you are told.)
By gosh and by golly, those restaurant seatologists enviably
have authority second only to U.S. Government Federal Agents. You will sit wherever they damn well tell you
to sit or you can go hungry.
While it is not for me to tell nationally famous restaurants
like Olive Lobster or Red Garden how to treat their paying customers, it is my ever-humble
opinion that folks tend to frequent establishments that treat customers to some
good service. While I am glad that
these big chains offer a respectable vocation for willing American workers,
fewer autocratic greeters and seaters on the payrolls sure would make me a
happier patron.
