“How’s everything tasting?”
I’m convinced. There’s a nefarious conspiracy afoot, and, it’s occurring right before or eyes in every major restaurant chain in America.
Am I the only one out there that has noticed this most annoying trend in food service lately? I remember, oh, way back when, like sometime during the “I-Hate-Bush-Becauase-He’s-The-Worst-President-Ever-Even-Though-I-Don’t-Know-Why-or-Even-Really-Care-But-Since-All-My-Friends-Hate-Him-I-Feel-Like-I-Should-Too” era, or even when people actually still liked Tiger Woods, servers at restaurants, I mean ALL restaurants were in the habit of stopping at your table with fake grin and would ask, “How IS everything?”
(As I just wrote that, a real soothing, calming effect came over me; nostalgic remembrances of “the good ol’ days” when my waiter or waitress was genuinely concerned about my overall experience at their fine or not-so-find establishment. That refreshing question allowed me the freedom to comment, not only on the food, (which, is probably much more likely to get a favorable performance rating otherwise, I would have probably gone somewhere else), then say something a bit more controversial like, oh, I don’t know, THE CRUMMY SERVICE, THE FILTHY BATHROOM, THE RUDE, AND LOUD TABLE NEXT TO ME, THE FOUL AND MYSTERIOUS STENCH EMINATING FROM THE KITCHEN, etc., etc., etc.
But, today, when I go to my beloved and well-trusted “neighborhood grill,” Applebee’s, instead of my all-too-cheery server asking me whether or not my entire dining experience that they are providing for me is satisfactory, (“Could you PLEASE turn the speakers down just a bit? I wasn’t envisioning my first date with this girl to include Barbara Streisand’s throat bellowing into her ear such that her only impression of me would be watching my mouth move.), they are only asking about the FOOD!
“How is everything tasting?” The very nature of this question is Machiavellian. My server KNOWS that I only want to provide him or her with a very quick, yet polite answer in order to brush him off quickly. However, in that moment, I am ONLY allowed to provide a positive response. Nevermind, that my food showed up ten minutes late, that I never even saw the server until I had to ask for service from someone else randomly passing by.
Now, when it’s time to pay up and I have pen in hand and I’m about ready to write in the tip amount, what is on the forefront of my memory, my responses to his innocent yet insidious query, “How is everything tasting?” “Oh! Just great, thank you!”
As I move my thoughtful eye away from the attractive sconce in the upper left-hand corner of my view back down to the receipt, I find myself writing a $65.00 total on $50.00 tab, but not really realizing it until I’m driving home by myself . . .
