riddlemay wrote:

bibi rose wrote:A 20-minute wait-- agreed, it's probably a failure to get the word to a server.

I think, while this is true, that we still haven't answered Josephine's question (which I share), which is, how does it happen that word fails to get to a server? Don't restaurants have systems to ensure that servers know where their tables are? Or is it just "reinventing-the-wheel land" in restaurant world every night?

(Recognizing that things work correctly most of the time...but still trying to get to the bottom of why they don't when they don't.)

riddlemay- There is no answer to this question. Nobody will ever know. There could be any number of scenarios which would account for why someone isn't acknowledged.

bibi rose wrote:But, but-- dining at a bar, alone or in pairs, has become much more of an alternative now. In many restaurants, it's highly accepted for walk-ins. I do it all the time when I'm alone. I even drink solo at bars while traveling, rather than sit in my hotel room. People's conclusions about that are their problem, not mine. Actually, the few pick-up attempts I've experienced were kind of funny and the guys took no for an answer.

For a period of a year or two, I was traveling semi-monthly to Pittsburgh for business. I'd stay at the same hotel (the Wm. Penn) and both men and women of all ages would congregate in the lobby/bar area. Some were armed with laptops, working, some were waiting for friends, some were just sitting alone, relaxing, before a big day. I would start to see some of the same people, so there was a passing familiarity. One such middle aged woman I chatted with was sitting alone -- at the bar -- and having a drink while she was waiting for her friend, an old graduate schoolmate who also was in town on business. I learned that she was a federal judge. I pity the damn fool who approached her thinking that she was a prostitute, trolling for business. Have fun in the lockup.

So I'm 22 or 23 and I'm in Colorado Springs for the editing of a TV spot, along with one of the creative big cheeses in my agency. He takes me to the bar in our hotel and strikes up a conversation with this woman at the bar. Of course, I'm standing there like McLovin in the bar with the cops, never have felt more geeky and clueless in my life as I watch him operate. To his and my surprise, it turns out that the woman-- reasonably attractive but not drop dead gorgeous, nor drop dead young either-- is working the bar in this hotel. He decides to avail himself of her services but only has X amount of money on him-- so he has to borrow some of it from my stack of petty cash carefully and soberly issued to me by the payroll department. Of course, while he's making whoopee, all I can do is imagine the disgrace and infamy that will bring an end to my young career in advertising when it gets out that I used agency money to pay for 40% of sex with a prostitute. Which wasn't with me.

Now instead of such Mad Men-ish high life, I go to movie nerd conventions, of which the following story was told on alt.movies.silent:

> In the early 80s at Cinefest, two
> working girls heard a convention of about 400 men was at whatever hotel it was.
> They set up shop in the bar and didn't get a customer all weekend. The
> original quoted exchange was:
> Girl: "Wanna have a good time for $40?"
> Cinefest Attendee (I forget who): "$40? That's a 2-reeler!"
> After Herb had told the story, someone came up to him and said, "WHERE can you
> get a 2-reeler for $40??"

So the point is, I wouldn't say such things are unknown to this day, or at least the mid 80s, but I can't say I've actually spotted one in a bar in years, partly because of what bars I do or don't go to, and yes, things have certainly changed to the point where a woman can sit at a bar and not be assumed to be working or looking for company, although some guy's radar will surely go off, however inaptly, once in a while.

OK, since there seems to have been a bit of speculation about my situation (and yes, I am willing to take responsibility for my part in it), here are some of my mid-wait observations:

1. Noise level - very high.
2. Kitchen corridor and bar service area located very close together in this large place -- jammed with servers.
3. Long treks for servers to front tables located on upper level (My table along corridor.)
4. Near absence of bus persons (I saw one bus person during dinner--and I was looking)
5. Predominance of large groups who seemed to be ordering from the "martini menu."
(Bias alert: yes, I disapprove of fruity martinis.)
6. Waiter at group of tables to my right-his attention rivetted on tiny details of service, e.g. the candle on the next table being extinguished. (I felt sorry for the guy.)
7. No one seated to my left until 'regulars" arrived and were greeted and chatted up by the owner almost instantly.

bibi rose wrote: I even drink solo at bars while traveling, rather than sit in my hotel room. People's conclusions about that are their problem, not mine.

I'm with you on that one, bibirose. I generally don't choose the bar in a restaurant because it's less comfortable than a table and I feel rushed. I don't care what anyone thinks about my sitting in a bar--at this point in my life, I'd frankly question their reality testing if they thought I was looking for quick action, paid or not. In this case, I wanted oysters, and the bar was crowded--3 deep. Shellfish service is pretty complicated for a busy bar.

However, thinking about the conventions of yesteryear-- I was recently told on a visit to Providence RI's Federal Hill that the distinguished restaurateur Frank Marzilli made a practice of refusing service to women who sought to dine alone in his lovely pink restaurant (who did he think his target market was?). This, as late as the 1980's. Me, I'd just whip out my Virginia Slims and tell him, "I've come a long way, baby - to taste your braciole. I don't intend to go away hungry."

bibrose wrote:(More often, I haven't waited for an explanation but have walked out, sometimes to a "WTF?" look from whoever is manning the door. Whatever-- I don't usually have a good experience after a start like that, so increasingly, I bail.)

Good call. If I had not driven a considerable distance specifically to eat at this restaurant, I would have left. I was also curious at this point as to whether they would pull it together or not. I hate to dismiss a restaurant without eating the food! But, in fact, the glass of Sancerre seemed as if it had been poured from a bottle opened yesterday, the oysters included two that should have been discarded due to size, and the bread basket was stingy. The waitress had clearly been instructed to push the bottled water and the flatbreads (an annoying trend).

Lest you all think that I am either a saint or a doormat, I do have my limits. When the farro and zucchini side suggested by the waitress came with no discernable zucchini in it, I finally complained. Here's the clincher: the waitress got the maitre d' who insisted that the dish had never contained zucchini. Sticking to my guns, I referred to the menu and was offered a new dish, which I refused, but which was delivered anyway.
Jeez! This is just the sort of interaction that ruins my dinner.

All was not lost, though. I'd be dishonest if I said the dinner was a total bust. Fortunately, the swordfish was as delicious and perfectly cooked as any I have had. If I ever return to this place (unlikely), I will arrive at lunch, sit outside, order a beer and a slab of grilled fish, and leave it at that.

Josephine, since this place was not merely a locus for flukish bad service one night, but seems to be an overrated dud on multiple levels, shouldn't you tell us the name?

Max's Oyster Bar
964 Farmington Ave
West Hartford, CT 06107
(860) 236-6299

Josephine wrote: Me, I'd just whip out my Virginia Slims and tell him, "I've come a long way, baby - to taste your braciole. I don't intend to go away hungry."

Love!

There are several reasons why it could have happened (none of which are "good," but they are all definitely within the realm of possiblilty).

Perhaps they had cut the floor, and you were sat in a section where that particular server was no longer taking tables. In this case, the host should have assigned the pick-up to the remaining server, and let that busperson/server know accordingly--and immediately.

There could be multiple reasons why this didn't happen: the host sat several tables directly after he/she sat you, and "forgot" about you (not acceptable, but again, within the realm of possibility). Or the host double- or triple-sat the server, and the server was swamped. But if that was the case, it would have made good sense for the server to attend to you first since you were solo.

Or, perhaps the server was assigned the pick-up, or was still on the floor in your section, and thought you were waiting for a joiner. Although you said the extra settings had been removed, so who knows.

In large places (i.e., places where all parts of the house are not visible from one sweep of the eye) that use Open Table there may be several stations where staff can look at the computer and see that they have a new cover. A lot of restaurants don't want to pay for Open Table to be run on more than one computer, though, and IMO, this is not as effective as good old human attentiveness.

Ultimately, this was the responsiblity of the host. Yes, the server should be attentive to the tables in his/her section. And there definitely should have been a busperson with water, bread, etc. (I am confused as to why there was no busperson or back waiter). My guess is that the staff was young, green, probably seasonally-employed, and they just dropped the ball.

But. The host greets and seats, and controls the flow into the house. The host determines the crucial first part of the experience. They screwed that up in your case, and that sucks.

Thanks, NeroW. With due respect to aschie, I suspected it was possible to learn some of the circumstances that explain dropped-table snafus.

One question. What does it mean, this "cut the floor"?

riddlemay wrote:Thanks, NeroW. With due respect to aschie, I suspected it was possible to learn some of the circumstances that explain dropped-table snafus.

One question. What does it mean, this "cut the floor"?

Cut the number of servers/buspersons on the floor. A lot of places whittle down progressively over the course of the night. One server team will be the closer(s) and everyone else is done.

In my experience this is where most dropped-table situations occur. People get used to keeping their eye on their particular section and then when the host seats outside of that section, even *if* the host communicates with the server team, mistakes still happen.

It is also possible that the restaurant where this happened "rotates" tables, as in there are no sections and each server picks up on a rotating basis. That is unlikely since it sounds like this place is large. In small places, rotation eliminates the "bad section" syndrome--all the "nice" tables are in one section and so one server is constantly getting screwed (although, again, a competent host will still seat as fairly as possible).

Whatever it was, from the description of the total experience, it was a bunch of bullshit, and with a properly-trained staff, it would not have happened

Thanks, NeroW, that was the information I was looking for. FWIW, I overheard the waitress who eventually showed up to take my order tell the "regulars" that she had been working there for 9 years - tenure?

Cathy2 wrote:And now from left field: in Moscow in the 1980's, this was very true.

Regards,

Nearly everywhere in the 1980's this was probably true...but this isn't the 80's. I travel a lot and would say that this is an old stereotype that has no basis in fact any more and hasn't in quite some time (with the possible exception of a Vegas casino).

Sheesh, do I have to worry about sitting alone at a bar, now, that someone will think I'm a "working" girl? I can't imagine anyone looking at me in any other context would think so...

leek wrote:Sheesh, do I have to worry about sitting alone at a bar, now, that someone will think I'm a "working" girl? I can't imagine anyone looking at me in any other context would think so...

The "working girl" turn of this thread cracks me up because, though I probably would have found the habit myself without any urging, my mom often used to tell me when I was living in NY and running around to make time to eat and just stop into a place and eat at the bar. Now, my mom immigrated to the US as an adult and is probably completely unaware of the "working girl" assumption (I certainly was until I read this thread). She'd have a good laugh if she knew the position she was putting me in!

I still eat alone at the bar of restaurants with some regularity. I'm not really pick-up material of any kind, so if that "working girl" culture still exists, I have no worries...would be interesting to see though.

happy stomach,

I recall your comments sometime ago about men trying to pick you up at H-Mart. The opening line was when they came up inquiring, "What is the name of this vegetable in your country?" I think about you every time I go there.

Regards,

Cathy2 wrote:happy stomach,

I recall your comments sometime ago about men trying to pick you up at H-Mart. The opening line was when they came up inquiring, "What is the name of this vegetable in your country?" I think about you every time I go there.

Ah, yes, good ol' H Mart, land of the "tell me about your country" men. Should I be worried that those men are mistaking me for a "working girl"?

I suppose it's just one of the absurdities of life--that I don't think twice about...have no problem going into most places by myself to sit at the bar and eat or drink, but I avoid as much as I can going alone through the produce section at H Mart.

happy_stomach wrote:[ but I avoid as much as I can going alone through the produce section at H Mart.

Ah - dangers lurk everywhere! A working girl can't be too careful.

Jyoti

Josephine wrote:Thanks, NeroW, that was the information I was looking for. FWIW, I overheard the waitress who eventually showed up to take my order tell the "regulars" that she had been working there for 9 years - tenure?

Probably not. The veteran waitress was most likely sent over to cover for the server who missed you at his table.

And although of course this should never have happened, this apparently was a massive miscommunication on the part of the staff, which can happen quite easily. Although there is no excuse, next time I say flag someone down if you're feeling missed. Being a martyr isn't going to get you fed any faster.

I've eaten alone at bars plenty of times - mostly abroad, but occasionally in the US, too - and almost invariably I had to deflect male attention. Learning that this may have been less about my incredible allure and more about commerce is a bit of a letdown.

And for those of you of an age where you think you'd be an unlikely pickup - I hear the bar at Myron & Phil's is hopping

Hi,

On a recent road trip to St. Louis, a friend and I went to breakfast specifically for a Slinger.

We went to a hip breakfast place with booths, picture of Elvis, tin ceilings, and lots of seating both filled and unfilled. There was a sign asking people wait to be seated. Surveying the available seating, there were high expectations of a table in short order.

We then were treated to waiters who likely saw us in their peripheral vision. They avoided any eye contact, delivered menus, took orders, and delivered food, then quickly swirved to move away from the two people waiting. Not hoards, just two people who tried to catch their attention.

After perhaps five or 10 minutes, we started getting restless. We ended up leaving, but not without some recognition of our being ignored. I waved and shouted, "Good-bye." For the first time, the waitstaff actually seemed to see us as well as some patrons, an inevitable fallout of my noisy approach. There were so many empty seats, it was odd nobody made any effort to seat us.

As we turned to leave, a family walked in as hopefully as we did a few minutes before. We offered our experience and hoped they had better.

Perhaps 10 minutes later, we were in a very small diner where everyone cooperated by eating, paying and getting out as soon as they were done. Space was at a premium. Once we found seats, menus and coffee were promptly delivered. The menu was plain and direct without many options, so it was easy to select what we wanted. We sat in the premium seats with direct views of the griddle master.

When our food was delivered, there was a piece of bread on the toasty dark side. No complaints from our side, but the grill master brought some additional toast to make up for it. As we finished eating, a bill was placed at our location and quickly settled.

We had to thank our lucky stars for not being seated, it allowed us a more interesting experience and likely saved us some money, too.

Regards,
Cathy2