When I was a teenager waiting tables in a series of Italian eateries of wavering quality, I would have leapt at1) the chance to replace myself with an iPad, as Applebees has recently rolled out2). The meals I served back then were generally not “cooked” so much as they were “poured from a slit in a bag and reheated,” and the only thing that made me sadder than people ordering the food was people liking it. That flashing electronic device at each table may sound disheartening, but its less depressing than an actual human pretending she likes working at Applebees.
But there is much to be learned in the service industry, and at 23, I finally got a job at a restaurant I adored and admired, a Madison, Wis., farm-to-table place named LEtoile that was trumpeting3) its local sourcing about 30 years before everyone else except Alice Waters4). Surely the guests at such a restaurant would be gracious, even blissful. Surely we would bond over the love of fine food that had brought us together. And with many guests, this was indeed the case. But the grander truth I take away from my decade in the restaurant business is this: We would all be better people if restaurant work were compulsory. We might at first be more ragey, baffled-by-our-peers people, yes, but I submit5) that as time went on and a wave of restaurant-educated people burst forth6), wed benefit.
Chopping away in the back of the house does not count for these purposes, by the way, difficult and demanding though that work is. In the kitchen, the worst you might do is grievously injure yourself. In the dining room, you face humanity.
And this is humanity at its most oblivious, tetchy7) and petulant8). Weve all heard about the snooty9), demanding restaurant guests, but snootiness was not generally a big problem in Madison. When the arena is a friendly college town in the Midwest, youre not really achieving much by getting your way10)—its Wisconsin! We were probably going to do that for you, anyway. The occasional celebrity strolled through, visiting a kid at UW or playing a concert, but they were invariably low-key and unobtrusive11). No, it was the regular folks who drained me of my will to stay in the restaurant business, and at times my will to breathe.
When I was still working for a restaurant that made pizza by unwrapping frozen dough-discs and running them through a glorified toaster, I expected little of my fellow humans. Were we not all there because wed agreed to settle? They wanted cheap food and I wanted a job staffed with my friends, where management was not too eagle-eyed about the wine spigots12). (Oh, yes: spigots.) But at an upscale, serious restaurant, the occasional rudeness and unalloyed13) weirdness of my customers seemed almost personal. This was my place, a place where I had saved my money to dine many times before I dared to try and work there, a place that introduced me to vaporous14) local cheeses, luscious15), dripping moonglow pears and crisp-skinned sweetbreads I can still recall tasting to this day.
And yet when people climbed the stairs and entered our dining room, many relinquished some crucial awareness along with their winter coats: of their bodies and others, of social norms, of the laws of time and space. Either we have taken this “customer is always right” approach way too far, or else we have absorbed it far too greedily. I too love the fantasy and the sheer theater of a good restaurant experience, but it can feel so divorced from daily life that people take it as the opportunity to enjoy a total meltdown of the social compact. Eye contact, replies to direct questions and protecting your progeny16) from obvious dangers all fall by the wayside17). A restaurant guest intent upon his own coddling is an alarming beast.
Parents set their babies free to crawl in the treacherous18) aisle where the servers carried great trays of dishes. People would plunder our expensive flower arrangements, drunkenly requesting “a rose for each of the ladies.” Some felt so freed from the drudgery19) of cooking and serving a meal that they forgot that humans with bodies were involved in the process of feeding them at all. These were the people who gestured madly and unexpectedly, flinging their elbows into a servers solar plexus20) and sloshing21) martinis off of our trays.
Oh, not all people were violent or hazardous. Some were simply odd. Diners occasionally rose from their tables to stand by the windows and gaze out at the starry winter night, sipping their wine and posing in the light from the adjacent22) capitol building, so that the servers could feel them feel us watching. I understood the impulse—weve all seen those movies in which closing down a restaurant is the height of romance, and in those scenes one never sees a server. But we were there, our backs to the dining room floor that now doubled23) as the living room in someones personal romance novel, rolling our eyes.
The funny thing is, during my years of working in a restaurant that demanded a great deal of its employees, not least24) of which was graciousness in the face of rudeness, I loved my job. I loved immersing myself in the world of food, learning about wine, quizzing the cooks on technique, introducing people to ground cherries or foie gras25). It was not an easy job to obtain and I was proud to be there. But the cumulative effect of, well, people, eventually took its toll26).
Here is where I find myself turning an about-face27) of sorts. I have long thought everyone should have to wait tables, but for years my goal was collective comeuppance28) or just to scare them straight. Now, the more I consider the effect of my own experience, the more I become the consumer instead of the provider, the more I realize what unsettles me still about restaurant life isnt the bad behavior. It is the moments when the empathy is too unavoidable and too painful, when guests arrived hoping to enjoy the public intimacy of the dining room and ended up regretting it: the proposals that were not accepted, or the girl who got up to visit the restroom before the main course arrived, leaving her date and the servers to slowly realize she wasnt returning.
A required year on the front lines would not just be a refresher in simple good manners, but the reminder of the underlying purpose of those manners: Even in a privileged dining room, this is a crowded, uneasy world, and being considerate of each other at the moments our lives unavoidably intersect can smooth the rough edges just a little bit. A former server is more likely to treat wait staff as sentient29) beings, yes, but Id like to think we also retain some measure of empathy, much as we try to squelch30) it. A lot of lives came into my orbit when I was a server, drawing me in at moments that were joyous, sorrowful, nerve-wracking and all the more delightful or harrowing31) for occurring so publicly. You cant live in your own hermetic32) world if youre a server; you cant avoid learning about the lives of others, not when those others arrive in your life each and every night, bringing with them a bundle of hopes and worries and celebrations and rifts33).
I still think of that girl who ditched her date and wonder what spurred her to do it. They seemed uncomfortable at the restaurant, too young and uncertain to enjoy it, perhaps. She had long blonde hair, bangs, and wore a black dress with flowers on it. He had on a beige34) shirt, brown tie, and parted hair. Im sure neither remembers me and that both hope I dont remember them. But I do. I remember trying to be brisk35) and unobtrusive when I cleared her untouched plate—is it possible I wrapped it up for him to take home? I only recall that it was hard to bear, the machinations36) we all had to work through, complicit37) in pretending this was not humiliating—the table-clearing, the pointless but obligatory offer of coffee or dessert, the bill, the signing—before I could step back and release him, both of us hoping wed never see one another again.
我十多歲時,曾先后在幾家飯菜質(zhì)量時好時壞的意大利小餐館當(dāng)過服務(wù)員。如果那時能有機(jī)會讓iPad來代替我工作——就像蘋果蜂餐廳最近推出的服務(wù)那樣——我一定會求之不得。那時,我端上桌的大部分食物與其說經(jīng)過了“烹調(diào)”,倒不如說是“從包裝袋里倒出來重新加熱了一下”。比起有人點(diǎn)餐,更讓我感到沮喪的只有一件事,那就是人們居然喜歡那些食物。每張餐桌上放著那臺亮閃閃的電子設(shè)備,這聽上去也許讓人心里不是滋味,但是比起讓一個活生生的人裝作喜歡在蘋果蜂餐廳工作,那也不算太令人沮喪。
不過,從事服務(wù)業(yè)可以讓人學(xué)到很多東西。23歲時,我終于在一家自己心儀和崇拜的餐廳得到了一份工作。這家名為“星斗”的餐廳位于威斯康星州麥迪遜市,奉行“從農(nóng)田到餐桌”的理念,在宣揚(yáng)采購本地食材這一點(diǎn)上比所有人超前了大約30年——艾麗絲·沃特斯除外。光顧這種餐廳的顧客必定是溫文有禮甚至是極為愉快的。由于對美食的共同愛好而相遇的我們也必定能建立良好的關(guān)系。就許多顧客而言,情況確實(shí)如此。但是在餐飲這一行工作了十年之后,我收獲了一條更為顛撲不破的真理:如果在餐廳工作是人人的必修課,那我們都將成為更好的人。開始時,我們也許會更易動怒,更多地感受到別人帶來的挫折感,的確如此。但我認(rèn)為隨著時間的推移,當(dāng)經(jīng)過餐館工作歷練的人大量涌現(xiàn)時,我們將從中受益。
順便說一句,在后廚切菜無法達(dá)到這些效果,盡管后廚工作難度高,強(qiáng)度也大。廚房里所能發(fā)生的最糟糕的事就是皮肉上受點(diǎn)重傷;而在餐廳里,你面對的是人性。
你所面對的是人性中最無視他人、也最暴躁和任性的一面。大家都聽說過那種傲慢無禮又挑剔的食客,但是在麥迪遜,傲慢無禮通常不是什么大問題。因?yàn)樵谥形鞑窟@座氣氛友好的大學(xué)城里,任性而為并沒有太大的意義——這里是威斯康星!我們終究可能還是會讓你心隨所愿的。偶爾會有名人漫步走過,去威斯康星大學(xué)探望子女或來此地舉辦音樂會,但他們無一例外地行事低調(diào)、毫不招搖。不,使我逐漸失去繼續(xù)在餐飲業(yè)工作的意愿,有時甚至讓我覺得連生活都失去意義的,是那些普通人。
拆開速凍餅坯的包裝,把餅坯放進(jìn)華麗的烤箱里加熱就能制作出比薩——當(dāng)我還在這樣一家餐廳工作時,我對別人也沒有什么要求。我們不都是因?yàn)樵敢鈱⒕筒湃ツ莾旱膯??他們想要廉價的食物,而我想要一份能跟朋友們共事且店方對酒桶的閥門(哦,是的,閥門)看管又不是很嚴(yán)的工作。但在一家正經(jīng)的高檔餐廳里,顧客偶爾表現(xiàn)出的粗魯和極為怪異的行為幾乎就像是針對你本人一樣。這是我的地盤,是我攢錢來這里多次用餐之后才鼓起勇氣試著來工作的地方,我在這里初次品嘗了入口即化的本地奶酪、甘美多汁的“月光梨”和外皮酥脆的動物胰臟,它們的味道令我至今記憶猶新。
然而,在走上臺階、步入餐廳之后,很多人就把一些十分重要的意識連同他們冬天的外套一并放到了一旁:包括他們對自己和他人身體的意識、對社會規(guī)范的意識,以及對時間和空間規(guī)律的意識。也許是我們過于按照“顧客永遠(yuǎn)是對的”這句話行事,或是我們過于信奉這句話。我也喜歡一次好的就餐體驗(yàn)帶給人的那種夢幻般的、充滿戲劇性的感覺,但是如果把去餐館用餐當(dāng)做一次從社會契約中徹底解放的機(jī)會,那感覺就太脫離日?,F(xiàn)實(shí)了。保持目光接觸,回答直接的問題,保護(hù)自己的孩子使他們遠(yuǎn)離顯而易見的危險(xiǎn),所有這些全都被拋諸腦后。一個只想著嬌縱自己的餐廳顧客實(shí)在令人生厭。
服務(wù)員端著盛滿餐盤的托盤在過道中走,家長們卻不顧潛在的危險(xiǎn),放任年幼的孩子在過道上爬來爬去。有些客人會隨意摘取店內(nèi)昂貴的插花裝飾,醉醺醺地要求“送每位女士一枝玫瑰”。有些人在卸下煮飯燒菜、端盤遞碗的苦差后感到如此輕松自在,以至于全然忘記了還有一些血肉之軀在為他們提供食物。這些人做著夸張和出其不意的手勢,他們的手肘會猛然揮到服務(wù)員的心口上,把托盤中的馬提尼酒也撞得潑灑出來。
哦,并非所有人都舉止粗魯、有危害他人之虞。有些人就是怪怪的。偶爾會有客人從餐桌旁起身,站在窗邊凝望冬夜的星空,一邊啜飲杯中的美酒,一邊借著旁邊議會大廈的燈光擺造型,好讓服務(wù)員都能察覺到他正在感受著我們的目光。我可以理解這種沖動——我們都在電影里見過這樣的場景,當(dāng)餐廳打烊時,浪漫的氣氛也隨之達(dá)到頂點(diǎn)。在那些場景中,人們從來看不到服務(wù)員的身影。但是我們在場,當(dāng)某人在內(nèi)心的浪漫戲中將這家餐廳幻化成自家的客廳時,我們正背對著餐廳不屑地翻白眼。
奇怪的是,在一家對員工要求極為嚴(yán)格——特別是要求服務(wù)員在面對顧客的無禮時仍要彬彬有禮——的餐廳工作的那些年里,我始終熱愛我的工作。我喜歡沉浸在美食的天地中,學(xué)習(xí)酒類知識,向廚師詢問烹飪技巧,為顧客推薦酸漿果或肥鵝肝。這份工作來之不易,我為在那里工作感到自豪??墒?,和人打交道的累積效應(yīng)最終還是產(chǎn)生了惡果。
正是在這時,我發(fā)現(xiàn)自己的想法發(fā)生了差不多是徹底的逆轉(zhuǎn)。我一直認(rèn)為應(yīng)該要求每個人都當(dāng)一當(dāng)服務(wù)員,但多年來,我這樣想的目的是讓所有那些人受到應(yīng)有的懲罰,或是僅僅給他們一個下馬威。如今,當(dāng)我更深入地思考我的經(jīng)歷帶來的影響,更多地以消費(fèi)者而非服務(wù)者的身份來考慮問題時,我更加清晰地意識到,我在餐廳工作的經(jīng)歷之所以至今仍然讓我難以平靜,并不是因?yàn)轭櫩偷牟划?dāng)行為,而是因?yàn)楫?dāng)客人來到店里,希望能夠在餐廳里公開享受一段親密的時光,最后卻以懊悔收場的那些時刻,那種如同己受的感覺太不可避免,也太讓人痛苦:求婚未被接受,或是女方未等主菜上桌就起身去洗手間,她的約會對象和服務(wù)員在等了很久之后才意識到她不會回來了。
在餐廳一線強(qiáng)制工作一年不僅可以讓我們學(xué)習(xí)那些基本的禮貌,還能提醒我們禮貌待人的根本目的是什么:即使在高級餐廳,這里依然是擁擠、紛擾的環(huán)境,在我們的人生不可避免地相互交會之際,互相體諒可以讓彼此的棱角稍稍變得不那么尖銳。做過服務(wù)員的人更有可能把服務(wù)員當(dāng)做有感知能力的人來對待,這一點(diǎn)不假。不過我傾向于認(rèn)為,我們還保留了一定程度的同理心,盡管我們想設(shè)法壓制這種感覺。做服務(wù)員時,有許多人走進(jìn)我的世界,讓我參與了許多或快樂、或憂傷、或傷神的時刻。當(dāng)這一切都發(fā)生在公共場所時,那種快樂或痛苦的感覺也會格外強(qiáng)烈。作為一名服務(wù)員,你不可能只活在自己那與世隔絕的小天地里,你會不可避免地了解別人的生活。當(dāng)那些人在每個晚上帶著各自的希望、憂慮、慶?;驙巿?zhí)進(jìn)入你的生活,這種了解是免不了的。
我仍然會想起那個丟棄約會對象的女孩,想知道是什么促使她那樣做。他們在餐廳里似乎并不自在,也許是因?yàn)樘贻p、心里太沒底,所以無法享受餐廳的環(huán)境。女孩留著金色長發(fā),梳劉海,身穿一襲印花黑裙。男孩穿一件淺棕色襯衫,打棕色領(lǐng)帶,留分頭。他們肯定都不記得我了,并且肯定希望我也不記得他們。可是我記得。我記得自己盡量干脆利落、悄無聲息地收拾女孩留下的原封未動的餐盤——有沒有可能我把菜打包讓他帶走?我只記得當(dāng)時的場面讓人難以承受,我和他不得不完成一場“密謀”,心照不宣地假裝這不是什么不光彩的事:收拾餐桌,雖毫無意義卻還是照例詢問他要不要咖啡或甜點(diǎn),開賬單,簽名付款。之后我就可以走開了,留下他一個人。我們都希望永遠(yuǎn)不要再見到對方。
1. leap at:趕緊抓?。C(jī)會);迫不及待地接受
2. roll out:推出(新產(chǎn)品或服務(wù))
3. trumpet [?tr?mp?t] vt. 宣揚(yáng),鼓吹
4. Alice Waters:艾麗斯·沃特斯(1944~),美國廚師,著名有機(jī)餐廳Chez Panisse的創(chuàng)辦人,是有機(jī)食品的積極支持者。
5. submit [s?b?m?t] vt. [律]認(rèn)為
6. burst forth:忽然發(fā)生,突然出現(xiàn)
7. tetchy [?tet?i] adj. 暴躁的,易怒的
8. petulant [?petj?l?nt] adj. 任性的,脾氣壞的
9. snooty [?snu?ti] adj. 傲慢自大的
10. get ones way:想怎樣就怎樣,隨心所欲
11. unobtrusive [??n?b?tru?s?v] adj. 不引人注目的
12. spigot [?sp?ɡ?t] n. 龍頭,閥門
13. unalloyed [??n??l??d] adj. 純粹的
14. vaporous [?ve?p?r?s] adj. 蒸氣狀的
15. luscious [?l???s] adj. 美味多汁的
16. progeny [?pr?d??ni] n. 子女,后裔
17. fall by the wayside:半途而廢
18. treacherous [?tret??r?s] adj. 暗藏危險(xiǎn)的
19. drudgery [?dr?d??ri] n. 苦差事;單調(diào)乏味的工作
20. solar plexux:〈口〉心口,腹部心窩處
21. slosh [sl??] vt. 使?jié)姙R出
22. adjacent [??d?e?s(?)nt] adj. 鄰近的,毗鄰的
23. double [?d?b(?)l] vi. 兼做,兼任
24. not least:尤其,特別
25. foie gras:〈法〉肥鵝(或鴨)肝
26. take its toll:造成損失(或危害、傷亡等)
27. about-face:(立場、觀點(diǎn)等)徹底改變
28. comeuppance [k?m??p?ns] n. 〈美口〉報(bào)應(yīng),應(yīng)得的懲罰
29. sentient [?sen?(?)nt] adj. 有感知能力的
30. squelch [skwelt?] vt. 壓制,打消
31. harrowing [?h?r????] adj. 令人痛苦的;折磨人的
32. hermetic [h??(r)?met?k] adj. 封閉的;與世隔絕的
33. rift [r?ft] n. 不和,失睦
34. beige [be??] adj. 淡棕色的
35. brisk [br?sk] adj. 干脆利索的
36. machination [?m?k??ne??(?)n] n. [常作~s]陰謀詭計(jì);密謀
37. complicit [k?m?pl?s?t] adj. 同謀的,串通的