Elizabeth

I went to lunch with my mom today. There were a lot of options that we could choose from, and we decided upon going to a burger place who's mascot is the cheerful robin. The primary reason was that I love steak fries. Well, actually, I like any kind of french fries. Or furthermore, any potatoes, or any type, combination, or style of potato would be my favorite.

Being the observer that I am, I notice service. Usually, the service is pretty decent at this place. Though, I sometimes question word choices, behaviors, or catchy jingo that servers tend to use at places like this, as most of the servers are either in high school or immediately out of it.

I love how they open the door for their customers, and on this particular occasion, a very small girl with a very squeaky voice greeted us. I'm always a bit put off when this age group refers to mixed gendered groups as "guys" when greeted, but I thought I would put that out of my mind. After all, I have had a lot of things going through my mind in the last 24 hours.

So we sat down, I ordered coffee. I was very impressed when my coffee came. Usually at this particular place the coffee is just thrown on the table, with any of the accoutrements tossed to the side on the bare table. This is no easy feat, mind you, since at places like this one, they have ALL kinds of paraphenalia adorning the top of the table to prompt me to try something different. As a creature of habit (and very particular about what I like) I opted for the ordinary. But, the remarkable thing was that this time, the coffee was served on a plate, and had a doily placed under it, the stirring spoon (well, soup spoon...) set neatly to one side, and the cream neatly placed opposite the spoon. Impressive as it was, I knew that 1) this wasn't done by some bubble gum chewing boy named Cody, and 2) obviously this young lady was fishing for tips. I almost took the bait, but waited until the whole episode played out at the restaurant.

This delusion of detailed serving was quickly scorched to oblivion when the young server would sit by the table, and interject her comments about other patrons, how she didn't wish to have to wait on a huge table of about 12, and that (after mumbling her dissatisfaction with the situation) said, "don't tell anyone." I didn't quite get that.

I like dining without extraneous interruption from the wait staff. This girl, however, just didn't really know how to leave. Like an uninvited houseguest that comes without warning, and doesn't know when to leave and is a huge burden or imposition on the host (hell, I have a relative and his wife like that...), I couldn't help but become overly annoyed.

Well, after my order of fries came out cold, and having this young daisy thrust herself upon my mom's and my conversation, I ended up giving an ordinary tip. The doily might have been a nice touch, but when everything settled, it was just ordinary. I wonder how many times this happens. I guess service is more than just a coffee cup on a doily.