I decided long ago to write about manners. I’m covering grounds that the McElroy Brothers already covered. I never listened to Travis’s podcast, Shmanners, and I don’t want to add another podcast to my weekly rotation. Like Travis, self-described “middlest” brother, I will cross my fingers that this is entertaining content.
A quick background before I rant: I had a mom who beat old-school manners into me. I dropped some of the antiquated ways, so I can look posh eating. I kept other traditions, like opening doors. On dates, I’ve gone to open the car door, but the difference in tradition led her to slide to the other side, while I hoped to awkwardly run around the car. That’s precisely why I want to write about universal manners.
Society lost its etiquette. We need to bring it back.
Can I take that plate away?
You’ve heard this question before. You may have your ready, overused response, like, “No, I was going to lick the plate!” But those of you who were raised right know the reason I hate this question.
I was taught, when you pause eating, leave your utensils at the sides of the plate, roughly at 4 and 8 o’clock. When you stop eating, leave the cuttlery in the center of the plate. You get your cutlery handles dirty, effectively shouting, “I’m done, servant! Take this away!”
I still leave my cutlery in the center of the plate when I’m finished eating. It helps me control my impulse to over eat. Yes, I don’t care if someone eats with a fork in the left hand and knife in the right. I already spent years jealously watching friends shoveling food in their mouth, as I balanced food on the back of a fork, like a sophisticated moron. But let’s meet in the middle. Cutlery in the middle is the Bat Signal of, “I’m finished.” And we should all adopt it, or at the very least, understand this universal gesture.
Who knows what goes through a waiter’s mind when they a clean plate, utensils on top, and still ask, “Can I take that?” Maybe they’re worried about complaints, like Karen/Ken leaving a bad review. I get that. I’ve seen irate bar-goers berate a bartender over taking a glass prematurely. [Naturally, they wanted to suck on the imagined alcohol remnants inside of the remaining ice cube.] But c’mon! We have a signal!
I’m not averse to chatty waiters. I just think the world would be better with established, nonverbal cues. To that, I implore YOU, my sexy reader, to leave your cutlery at the center of the plate. Maybe one day all waiters will get savvy to this, and we can avoid an awkward question.
Restaurant etiquette is heavily based on 1. Age and 2. experience working in the service industry. For example, Boomers seem to have no issue asking a restaurant to change their temperature. My generation struggles to complain about unforgivable mistakes. We could find a finger in our chili and still leave a bigger tip than some. In regards to work experience: I can tell someone has once worked a job where they ran around, serving degens and/or fancy pants, when I see them stack the table’s plates with the intent of making the busser’s life easier.
We don’t want to be a Karen/Ken. Fine. But some restaurants play music louder than my screams when I see a roach. I’m a music-lover, but I don’t want to hear blaring techno while I’m eating a chicken salad. There is a time for a gentle complaint. We are spending money to enjoy a meal, not to dance, and definitely not to drown out the thoughts of underpaid workers.
Some places are so crowded they have to turn their speakers to 11. These places would benefit by buying a quality speaker, not just a LOUD speaker. Nobody wants to be sushed. But we do want to be considerate. The middle ground is simple. You can sush the music when other parties feel the same way. It’s gotta be a vote, or at least, a strong feeling the table next door agrees.
So think about the Dufraines, party of 2, sitting a few tables down. Are they also wondering, “Why is it louder than late night infomercials in here?” “Why is it so cold I need a parka?” or “Why is it so bright I can see my date?” you can speak up. Nay, you should speak up. It becomes a moral imperative to become Karen/Ken when everyone else needs you to be. Hell, maybe the staff have been waiting all shift for someone to ask their manager to turn down the “Best of MJ” album he always puts on.
I don’t need to cover food etiquette. Todd Barry and the other comedians have enough salad jokes for a lifetime. I don’t need to kvell about restaurants that give you water as soon as you sit down, without asking, because they know everyone needs more water. Nor lament about the frustrations when it seems your water will never come. But I need to state one obvious thing. Always be nice to the staff.
I said you can be Karen/Ken. But in a nice way. Service industry jobs are tough. They make you tuff. Many believe at 18 everyone should be forced into the service industry, like conscription in Korea. The world would be so much cleaner if everyone had to pick gum off tables. Even if you didn’t have a drill seargant, or tough parents, you should just try to empathize with underpaid people, who are maybe struggling.
Kindness to the staff means everything. In Israel, it can mean a free chaser. In America, I’d need to explain a “Chaser” is a small shot, and I should have used the word “drink” in that example. I’m pretty sure the food spitting thing is a myth, contrary to the movie Waiting…, but why risk it? How you treat others says everything about you.
