"Hi Guys, My Name is Zach, and I'll be Your Server Tonight".
What Zach, the American Waiter, Needs to Know About French Culture When Serving Pierre.
First of all, if I wanted to know your name, Zach, I’d ask. Second, and I am saying this as clinically and malice-free as I can, we are not friends. Not that we can’t be, but if we were to be, that’ll be my decision, since I’m the customer and I’m paying, and not something you should presume simply because I am spending several hours at a table that you’ve been assigned to as part of your job. As such, please don’t ask my name, and you can address me, when you need to, simply as “Monsieur” or “Madame”, and I promise not to call you Zach. I understand that in America these days, assuming gender-identification is becoming politically incorrect, it is strange that, independent of how I identify or gender-present, you refer to me as “guy” (or a member of a group of “guys”, whether or not the group I am dining with are, in fact, guys). No matter: for you, I am not “Guy” (which is, by the way, a real French name, pronounced “Gee”, with a hard “G”). I am your patron, and we are not equals. While you appear to be very concerned about establishing an informal relationship that allows both of us to inquire with each other about everything from the weather to our recent surgeries (but never politics or religion, which would be, by the way, much more interesting), my goal is to be taken care of at the table by a professional. I am not paying you, after all, to commiserate on the headlines or the challenges of kids and significant others with me. Be welcoming, caring, and responsive when I need you; that’s all I ask.
“You still working on that?”
I never really thought of dinner as something I had to work at. Why do US-Americans see everything, even pleasure and leisure, as “work”, as something needing to be achieved? If I were still working on dinner, having completed it, you’d be paying me for a job well done, right? Nevertheless, it doesn’t “work” like that, and I believe I’ll still be paying you when the meal is over, so please let’s not reduce what should be my pleasurable experience to “work” when it’s not. In fact, the price I pay should typically reflect the degree of pleasure the meal provides me, ranging from inedible to an epiphany. Speaking about work, however, you should know that we French have “worked out” clear rules at the table, with the goal being to make the dining experience for everyone — me, you, and other patrons — simply more pleasurable and efficient, and it would be so much easier if you knew some of them. After all, it is part of your job. For one thing, if it really was time for you to clear my plate, you would know by the fact that I’ve put down both my knife and fork, and subtly sat back in my chair. Until I do, please don’t come around and interrupt my meal with your question, “You still working on that?” If there’s a knife or fork still in my hand, obviously I am.
“How’s everything going?”
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to Dean Foster Global Cultures to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.