Sunday, March 30, 2008

Just so we're clear, I'm (still) not hot shit

The schizophrenic temper of customer service in New York is such that sometimes you are treated like the abusive husband in that Julia Roberts movie who insisted that all the labels on the food cans face forward and the towels be hung just so. So for example if you buy a can of pop (that is, "soda") in a deli, they fastidiously put it in a custom-sized paper bag with a wrapped straw and a napkin and hand you your change as fast as is humanly possible.

On the other hand, sometimes you are treated like a loitering criminal scumbag, as with the rule that you cannot be seated at a restaurant until all of your party is there, even if you have a reservation for 8 people and 7 are waiting in the vestibule.

Also, this, which happened to me twice this week, for I think the first two times in my life: after an hour or two eating or drinking at some place, I was asked to leave. Time number one was at some East Village coffee shop where I was meeting with an acquaintance, who was highly unimpressed when we were shooed out. Time number two was at "26 seats" (inexplicably cheap but ultimately Michelin-unworthy French cuisine in a tiny, brick-walled corridor), also in the East Village. The waitress literally pointed to the people waiting and politely asked us to hurry up before the third course hit the table. In that case, friend and I were in too good of a mood to care, and happily scarfed our crème brûlée and left.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Asking you to LEAVE? Eff that. I'm not hot shit either. I was turned down three times trying to bum a cigarette yesterday. What's with people?! Is bumming a smoke a Canadian thing? The Americans aren't game. At all.