Customers aren’t always right. In fact, sometimes they’re dead wrong.
Maybe we’ve been fed one too many “have it your way” burgers in this country. So many of us are raised presuming it’s our prerogative to demand and do whatever we want at restaurants as if they’re our own private dining rooms.
Since the pandemic, the clientele has only gotten ruder and less civil, a subject that Robyn Jackson, owner of The Civility School in Charlottesville, knows something about. “The post-pandemic behavior and expectations at American restaurants have changed,” Jackson observes. “There’s this sense of entitlement among customers.”
Restaurant-related changes over the past five years have only dialed up the tension between diners and the industry, leading to “frustrations on both sides,” says Crystal L. Bailey, director of The Etiquette Institute of Washington.
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As COVID wore on, American audiences, once happy to support restaurants in a time of need, became less charitable. Some grew weary, even resentful, about being asked to tolerate such measures as regimented seating times and automatic service charges. COVID-era “luxuries” like socially-distanced spacing between tables and QR code ordering went away, and suddenly, we found ourselves crammed into dining rooms again and confronted by human beings, with whom we’d otherwise forgotten how to interact.
People tend to behave poorly when they feel forced to censor themselves in public. So, they fight it. Their feeling is, if I’m paying to be here, why should I perform for everyone else? But as Jackson points out, it’s a mistake to assume people can’t be themselves while striving to be considerate of others. “It’s OK to have a way of being in different public places,” she says. “It doesn’t mean you’re not being sincere.”
For folks in need of a refresher, the etiquette experts are here to help. As a rule of thumb, it’s important to think about the comfort of those around you at all times.
Just as one should never discuss politics at the table, the ideal diner should also refrain from talking about money there, too. Got a bone to pick about the check? Excuse yourself and handle it discreetly. Don’t air your grievances out like a guest on “The Jerry Springer Show.” If there’s a disputed charge, ask the restaurant to explain it, rather than simply refusing to pay.
Also remember that restaurant servers are humans, too. Like us, they’re both capable of making mistakes and deserving of respect and dignity. So, watch your tone and, for Pete’s sake — and I do mean NYT food critic Pete Wells — stop playing the critic card and threatening restaurants with negative reviews as a form of revenge. Why not have a constructive conversation with them instead?
Jackson, for one, is tired of what she calls the “weaponization of online reviews.” Just because we can, on platforms like Yelp or Tripadvisor, doesn’t mean we should. “I wish that we could take some time and mull it over. Being empathetic does not mean you’re weak,” she says. “If you really want to make a difference, whether it’s for other diners or for the restaurant itself, there are much more productive ways of doing it.”
Another valuable piece of advice is knowing when to drop it. Avoid letting a lousy dish or service experience spoil the entire evening. Nothing is wrong with addressing problems politely and calmly, but don’t have a hissy fit if they can’t be fixed.
Bailey explains, “What I find sometimes when I go out dining with people is one small thing — the food is cold, et cetera — and that becomes the entire experience.” The trick, she says, is “looking past that and still enjoying your experience.”
Chances are your dining companions may not even notice the molehill of an issue you’re turning into a mountain. And by failing to value anyone’s happiness but your own, you risk inadvertently making everyone, yourself included, miserable.
This brings me to another topic: bystander intervention. What if it’s not you who’s ruining dinner but the person you’re dining with?
A situation like this can be cringeworthy for anyone. But as a critic who aims to comport himself beyond reproach at places he writes about, in a small city like Richmond, I find it downright incriminating, a form of guilt by association that is harder to stomach than a bad meal.
I’m still traumatized by the time one of my guests summoned a server by snapping their fingers and calling her “honey” and then complaining about tipping as she stood at our table. Or when another polished off most of their plate before complaining about it and demanding that it be taken off the bill. In both instances, I found myself sinking further and further into my chair.
It is a terrible position to be in. According to the experts, however, there are five strategies you can use to de-escalate these types of situations and mitigate the damage:
Take corrective action: “I find myself trying to maybe overcompensate when I do have someone in a party that is acting a little uncouth,” says Bailey. But, she suggests, do it behind the scenes. Don’t draw more attention to it or deliberately embarrass anyone at the table.
If your friends left a bad tip, chip in some cash to make up the difference. If they said something rude or insulting, find a way to pull the person they offended aside and apologize for them. Bear in mind, though, it may not be appropriate to meddle with the bill, especially at a business dinner or hosted gathering.
Use empathy and humor: In life, it’s best not to assume the worst about people but to understand where they’re coming from. Maybe they don’t have opportunities to dine out as much. Or, they just had a bad day. “Think about the reasons people are rude,” Jackson says. “There are a lot of reasons for that.”
Once you get to the bottom of it, if you feel comfortable, speak to them about it — and not in an accusatory or judgmental way. Pointing out someone’s impoliteness by making a joke about it can help. But it can also backfire. “If the person’s stressed out, they may feel like you’re condescending,” Jackson warns.
Say, “It’s not you; it’s me”: Jackson calls this the “please indulge me” method. Basically, it involves disarming the culprit through a technique that folks have deployed for years in dating as a way of letting others down easy.
This can be applied to a bunch of scenarios — from requesting that a fellow diner stop raising their voice because you’ve suffered a splitting headache all day, to asking them to avoid uttering a word or phrase that is particularly triggering for you, to getting them to ease up on a server given your experience of waiting tables in college.
Be a model citizen: It’s trite but true: We have to be the change we want to see in the world — and at the dinner table.
“We can’t control others; we can only control ourselves,” Bailey says. “So, for me, a lot of times it’s just setting the example of couth and courtesy.” With any luck, they’ll follow your lead.
Add them to the “no-dine list”: A bad dinner guest is only a bad dinner guest if you keep giving them a seat at your table. As a last resort, stop inviting them.
And if that person asks why, you could use it as a “teaching moment” and explain what they did that made you uncomfortable, says Jackson, who, thankfully, has never had to do this with any of her friends.
