November 18, 2011

• I might have inadvertently stomped on a guy’s nuts…I’m not really sure how it happened, so I’m hoping someone can enlighten me.

  I was meeting up with some friends for dinner one night, and ended up at the restaurant a bit early. I couldn’t get a table because the place had a policy of not seating groups until all members were present, so I went to the little lounge area to wait for my friends. As I was sitting around, the greeter guy (“Greeter Guy”) came up to me and asked:

  

  To which I replied:

  

  

  Greeter Guy then left to go take care of a few customers. Three minutes later, he returned and asked:

  

   

  I again told him “no,” but instead of leaving it at that, Greeter Guy started naming specific beverages and asking me if wanted any of them:

  GREETER GUY: Would you like some green tea?

  ME: No, thank you.

  GREETER GUY: How about some Asahi?

  ME: No, thank you.

  GREETER GUY: What about some flavored sake?

  ME: No, thank you.

  GREETER GUY: Plum wine?

  ME: No…

  I don’t know if Greeter Guy had to meet some kind of beverage quota or what, but he was having a difficult time accepting that I really didn’t want anything to drink, and it was starting to annoy me. I know he was probably just doing his job, but his apparent passion for customer service was turning into pushiness. So finally, I told him:

  

  Greeter Guy’s “Okay then” was said with that don’t-say-I-didn’t-warn-you tone…as if I were, like, some kind of mutant freak for not wanting anything to drink. But he left, so whatever.

  One of my friends showed up soon after, and the other two were just a few minutes away. I decided to take that brief moment to go wash my hands before dinner. The restrooms were located down a small hallway, past the kitchen entrance. The entrance was covered by one of those Asian door-curtain things, so I couldn’t see the people working in there. I could, however, hear them talking, and I managed to catch a bit of their conversation as I made my way to the women’s room.

  

  “Not right now?” Isn’t that what I said to Greeter Guy to make him stop bothering me?

  …Nah, that person b*tchin’ in the kitchen couldn’t have been Greeter Guy. Why would he make such a big deal out of me not wanting anything to drink? He must hear that all the time! It must be someone else talking about something that coincidentally involves drinks and getting “Not right now” as a response. I bet one of the chefs was just complaining about getting rejected by a chick he tried to hit on in a club.

  I washed my hands and went back to the lounge. By then, the rest of my friends had arrived and Greeter Guy took us to our table. As I sat down, he asked me:

  

  

  OMG, sour grapes! It was Greeter Guy who was b*tchin’ in the kitchen!

  I opened my mouth to call him out on what I heard him say on my way to the bathroom, but I couldn’t get the words out. There was a good chance I was wrong. I mean, why would this guy be offended when a customer declines service? Everyone knows that when a restaurant employee asks “Can I get you anything to drink,” it’s not because he really cares if you’re thirsty. No, he’s asking such questions because he has to. It’s a food-service norm that is practiced millions of times a day, by millions of people around the world. And you can’t tell me that every answer is “yes.” There is a 50/50 percent chance that the customer is not going to want anything–and what’s so offensive about that?

  But deep down, I knew the guy in the kitchen was Greeter Guy and I knew he was complaining about me. But I still couldn’t risk the embarrassment of being wrong, so I just said:

  

  

  And then he left and ignored my friends and me the rest of the evening.

  I honestly don’t understand what was so wrong about not wanting a drink. It wasn’t like I was turning down a cocktail he had paid for; that tab was on me. He was just the person who’d be physically handing me the glass. So I have no idea where he got that rejection sh*t, or why he acted as if I’d stomped on his nuts. But I’ll own up to it if I was actually the one who was the social retard. I would just like to know why.

   

  • 1:36 am
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