Truth and Honesty

I watch a damn lot of crime drama. You name it, I probably watch it. And on many of them, somebody will say, "You know how to pass a lie detector test? You tell the truth." Ha ha.

But what if the truth is something elusive, something that you don't even really know for sure? How do you pass a lie detector test then? I've been asking this of myself a lot of late and well, it sucks. I'm not a lier, have never been a lier. As a kid, we had small punishments for mis-behavior but the only thing that we ever got spanked for was for lying. Honesty was a really big thing in my household. Congrats Mom and Dad, I think it took.

But I think that a lot of the time, people don't even know that they're being dishonest, particularly with themselves. Looking at ourselves honestly is really difficult, maybe because we all want to think that we're special, that we're goddamn snow flakes, but in the end, what we want isn't that different. We want love, security, comfort. We are all individuals but we're also just drops of water in the ocean, all floating around together trying to make sense of things. To understand that we're all human, limited and imperfect is hard to swallow. To know that we're not much better than the next guy really sucks. For the most part, we're all decent human beings, trying the best we can.

And what if the truth hurts us and the people we love? What do we do then? I want to believe that all of our happiness is connected, that by making ourselves happy, we'll make others happy and vice versa. But what if those two thing can't coexist? What do you do then? Do we sacrifice ourselves? Do we dare ask to be happy? They say that the truth sets you free, but it sure can feel like a prison; isolating, instilling fear and putting you on the edge of a cliff.

Beware what you ask for because the truth can be liberating, but it can also be a Pandora's box. All kinds of stuff you didn't know existed just comes flying out and you can't stuff it back in. There's no unscrambling scrambled eggs.

So I find myself pushed out of an airplane, with a parachute that may or may not work. I find myself flying through the air feeling the wind rushing past my face so fast I can't even think. The earth is so far away that I can hardly tell that I'm rushing towards it. I'm just hoping that I remember to pull the string when the time right. Because everyone who's ever jumped out of a plane knows that it's not the falling out of the sky that can hurt you, it's suddenly having to stop and finding your feet on the ground again.

Service with a Smile

Everyone's a critic. First it was Citysearch, and now it's Yelp. Everyone's got something to say and we all believe that our opinion matters. If you've spent any time reading Yelp reviews, you'll know that they are frequently contradictory. No matter how many stars a restaurant has, there will be someone who hated it, thought it was "over-rated," got a crappy server, crappy food, crappy parking, whatever. Yes, I have heard very convincing arguments about aggregate surveys and how there is probably some truth to the ratings if 500 people thought it was good and only 10 thought it was bad. But does that mean that those 10 people were just wrong about their experience? That they really actually had a good time but just "thought" they had a bad time?

In my years in the restaurant industry, I've come to realize that every dining experience is a meeting of multiple parties. You both bring with you a lot of history and baggage. There are infinite reasons why people eat out. They're on a hot date, a blind date, they're celebrating, they're too tired to cook, the want to be seen, they just want to be removed for their life for a couple of hours, or maybe they just really want some fried chicken. Restaurants, too, have a lot of different inspirations. Some restaurants are open for prestige, for glory, for passion, or for money. There are places that offer a lifeline for its immigrant owners, there is almost always a culture of feeding and nourishing. So given that both parties come into the experience with the most simple of contracts (I want to eat, you want to feed me), what goes right and what goes wrong?

There are always a lot of unspoken and unconscious expectations, on both sides. As a restauranteur, I can say that any good restaurant works really hard to set the stage for a good experience. There's a lot of care in getting the best ingredients, making an appealing menu (that's both challenging and reflective of the chef and appealing to the diner), choosing an appropriate wine list, training servers, educating ourselves on etiquette, thinking about appropriate presentation, etc. A lot of work is being done in preparation for people to come and eat, something that they've done thousands of times, and will probably do again soon- like in the next 12 hours.

This is not to say that it's not the restaurant's fault if you have a bad meal and we've done all this work. The work is only a part of the equation. There's also all the unpredictable things on our side: purveyors who send the wrong ingredients, someone calls in sick, someone has a hang over, someone's dog died, your server had a bad day, is having a fight with their boyfriend, was called in when they were supposed to be going to a concert, etc. We're all generally just trying to do our best (yes, there are just crappy servers and crappy food too). And even if we're operating under the best possible circumstances, things always go wrong. It's why some of us love the industry, nothing is predictable. You're just fighting to make it a good night.

Then there's what the diner brings with them. Their expectations are a huge part of it. They're there for a meal, but often they have a dozen reasons why they are where they are. Maybe the wife just had twins and is going insane. A romantic night out is going to keep from her shaking the baby. There are miserable couples, there are "in love" couples, there are incredibly awkward couples and I haven't even mentioned families (oh god, the holidays are approaching!). All these people have an idea of what they're expecting (or dreading) that's been brewing in them from way before they even thought of the meal or entered the restaurant.

This is how we meet.

It's not difficult to see how regardless of the preparation, of all the good intentions in the world, everyone is not always going to have a good time. I can honestly say that I want everyone who comes into the restaurant to leave happy. But sometimes people don't really want to have a good time, their misery is too much to take and they want to spread it around and they pay you to take it. And yes, sometimes one of us is having a bad day and don't want to oblige you. It's not perfect, but that's the way it is. It's the nonverbal contract. It happens every time you step foot into a restaurant.

For me, I will continue to try my best to make the people who come into the restaurant happy. I will live with the fact that sometimes they think I'm a "cold Asian hostess with a shrill voice." (Thanks, Yelp!) I will try my very best to meet them where they are, despite my inability to control the circumstances that put us both there. I do this because I believe in nourishing people, in knowing my regular's quirks and favorite tables, in feeding people and giving them an experience that has the potential to make their day better than it was before they stepped in the door. I believe in meeting people where they are and hoping that they will do the same.

The Traveler