Waiters are liars

It's true. We lie to you. A lot. But to our credit many of those lies are things we tell you to make your dining experience a better one. Yes, there certainly are those times we lie to you because we want to upsell you a more expensive item (no, the boneless ribeye is terrible, get the porterhouse instead), or because we don't want to do something (actually the cappucino machine is broken so I can't make you any). Those lies will be reserved for another entry, as today I would like to focus on the times we lie to you for your own good. I have the perfect example from one of my last shifts.

I was waiting on my last table of the evening - a very low maintenance eleven top of twenty somethings. Everyone was happy, I was always a step ahead with my service and the meal was going well. As I cleared the empty dinner plates a request was made for the dessert tray. WHY?! Why does the last table of the night always have dessert...and coffee...and after dinner drinks...and then more coffee....and perhaps another drink? It's like they know they are your last table. They see the dining room thinning out, take note of the sea of empty tables around them and settle in for an extended post dinner stay. Sometimes referred to as "campers" these guests revel in their ignorance, lounging about until the lights go up and an impatient waiter has cleared everything off the table, including water glasses and even the salt and pepper. BUT, that too is an entirely different entry. Back to the task at hand - waiters and the lying lies they tell.

I brought the dessert tray to the table and began presenting our disgustingly huge desserts to everyone. As I rambled on about the delicious chocolate cake I spotted it. An enormous cockoach running wildly about the tray. Mind you, our restaurant is not exceptionally dirty or unkept. This is just the reality of restaurants. They are full of foody treats and as such will always have bugs to some degree. You can never get rid of those ingenious roaches. They are nearly indestructable, crafty little fellas that can and will live anywhere. This ambitious roach happened to make it all the way to the middle of the dining room and set his sights on a true prize, the dessert tray. I quickly brought the tray up high. near my face, so that the table could no longer look down on it. They all began arching their necks and straining to see the desserts as I quickly plowed through my descriptions. One guest attemtped to pull the tray back down, prompting me to lift it higher and take a step back from the table. All the while the roach ran about, back and forth over the display desserts, no doubt planning his next move up my arm. Worried that it would be spotted and not wanting to make contact with the beast, I excused myself from the table and returned the tray to its stand in the corner. When I returned to the table I explained, "I'm just going to tell you about the desserts. You don't need to see them. I love talking about them." "No," someone said, "we'd really prefer to see them. Why can't you show us the rest of the tray?"

Hmmmm. Tell the truth and give out lots of free stuff? Or tell a lie and look like an idiot? Valuing job security over my image at the table I chose the latter. "Actually," I went on, "I hurt my arm pretty badly this morning and that tray is so heavy. I'm sorry I just can't hold any more trays tonight. Which desserts would you like?" It was the best I could come up with in the moment. Glad to see I learned something from all those years of improv in college. I was about as clever as a rock at that moment. The table pondered this for a minute, one person replied, "Um...okay, I guess," and they eventually ordered several desserts. I had no choice. I was forced to lie to the table for the greater good. They didn't need to know about that roach and have their meal ruined. My manager didn't need to waste his time apologizing to my table and issuing comps and I certainly didn't need the grief of supervising the whole debacle. Clearly this lie was justified,as are many others that waiters tell. It's sad but true - there are times we must lie to you. Not because we want to, but because we want you to come back.