Ja, Gunther, do you vant some help vid zos beers?

I overheard the above statement while walking past the bar during last night's shift. Gunther was struggling to deliver four beers to his friends waiting at a nearby cocktail table, causing his companion to make this query in her thick German accent. I giggled to myself, partially over the name Gunther and the memories it conjured of the old SNL skit Sprockets, and also over all of the feelings waiters have about foreign tables. In the movie Waiting when the hostess informs one of the servers that she has sat her a foreign table, the server asks, "are you mad at me?" while another server screams, "foreigners, I hate foreigners!" Sadly, sometimes we do hate our foreign customers. It is a royal pain to take all that extra time explaining things to the table. As I slowly explain each item on the menu, over enunciating each syllable, I watch as my other tables grow anxious looking for me. Falling deeper and deeper in the weeds at the hands of this foreign nemesis is no fun. The language barrier presents some interesting problems. Typically each person at the table speaks about three to seven words of English, excepting the host of the table who has mastered our language and commands a vocabulary of at least two or three dozen words. The host will undertake the difficult task of ordering for the table, something that always amuses me. The host never orders for individuals, rather he lists an array of dishes that will simply be brought to the table. For example, "Please for to bring one steak, a chicken, the fish, and the vegetables." Thus begins the order taking adventure. We struggle way through temperatures and side dishes, substitutions and courses. It is no easy task explaining that the catfish comes with whipped sweet potatoes and spinach so they must choose which item to replace with fries, or that the BBQ combo sides trade out together and that you can't pick and choose.

Sometimes I fantasize about learning foreign languages just to better communicate with my customers. Then I realize what a wildly small minded fantasy this is - I am not dreaming about learning a foreign language to better myself or to travel the world, I am dreaming about learning a foreign language to bring people their steaks in a more efficient manner. After taking the order there is another guessing game. Which "American beer" should I bring the table, or which "vegetables" might they enjoy as their side dishes? Typically I bring Sam Adams and corn, as these both seem very hearty and American to me. If I could bring apple pie as a side dish I would. There is also the problem of figuring out where the food will go. Many times I have taken the order from a large foreign party and then must randomly assign each dish to a seat number. In these cases if I am lucky enough to see my order come up on the line I usually find some reason to go hide in the back. I'll save the thrill of auctioning off the plates for the food runner or one of my wonderful fellow servers.

Once the meal has finished there comes the final gem of the evening, the tip. Herein lies the reason we hate serving foreign guests. I understand that waitstaff are treated differently in Europe. They are paid a real living wage and do not need tips to live. If tips are given, they are small and more of a method of communicating the service was excellent. This is not the case in the States. I make something absurd like $4.12 an hour. My check reads, "this is not a check," because my hourly pay is so small it is eaten up by credit card tips in a matter of hours. I need your tips to pay my rent and feed myself - your tips are my livelihood. It is difficult to accept that Europeans don't know this. I know not to leave a large tip in a European eatery, that this is considered rude as I am flaunting my money. Is it really too much to ask to expect Europeans to understand our customs in turn. Sure, we have a stamp that we can put on the check, explaining in several languages that the tip is not included, or "non incloso." This stamp does not explain that the industry standard is twenty percent or that leaving me five dollars on a two hundrend dollar tab is actually more insulting than leaving me nothing at all.

At the end of the day it's best not get upset over something that will never change. My foreign guests will always want a well done filet with french fries and an "American beer," and they will always leave me five to ten percent. It's best to remember those diamonds in the rough - the rare foreign tables that know the ins and outs of our culture and tip well, order easily, and get in and out with minimum amounts of grief. So please stop by anytime you like Gunther. We'll keep the Sam Adams flowing and well done steaks coming.