Check, Please…..
The Source
Check, Please….. The Morgan County Health Department does a good job inspecting restaurants. I mean, I suppose they do. I have no idea at what temperature cottage cheese should be kept, but I imagine that our local health inspectors have books and charts for such things. It’s interesting how the rating of local eateries has become a sort of entertainment column for those perusing the paper to check out how soon we’ll die after eating contaminated noodles. And while some might argue that government inspection of restaurants is another step down the liberal road of President-Obama’s European-style-socialism and intrusive big government, I’d maintain that an expert’s eye on what’s going down my throat is a reasonable expenditure of tax monies. Yes, it may lead to a bit of hypochondria. I’ve known several folks who would have felt perfectly fine after dining if they’d not awakened the next morning to read that the shelves in their favorite restaurant’s pantry needed painting. But let me take one more step to foster encroaching governmental intrusion, and suggest that we also institute some sort of social rating for restaurants. Okay, your favorite café doesn’t cross-contaminate it’s fried chicken with the pork chops, but do they stuff you into a booth that’s too small or lay your receipt on top of your change, causing you to fumble with your billfold while holding up the checkout line? Let’s talk specifics. Say I am just such an inspector of a restaurant’s social skills. My rating might go something like this: Bennies Beanery, 127 Ezard Drive, Jacksonville Score: 58 Violations: 4 points. . .Waiter should not interrupt me if I’m in the middle of a really good story. Yes, I know that you’re working and I’m not and that you have 12 tables while I have one, but do I come up to you in Wal-Mart and suddenly interrupt the conversation you’re having with a clerk about fly spray? 3 points. . . Waiter frowned at me when I asked for separate checks. Is it really that hard? Would it make your life easier if I just bought shrimp for everyone in the house today? 2 points. . . I understand that anyone can get an order mixed up, but must you look at me as if it’s my fault? 8 points. . . In regard to that child at the next table who’s parents thought that my idea of a quiet lunch was listening to little Bubba scream then run around the tables? The one who’s mommy would look at him every ten minutes and quietly whisper “Shhh, honey”? Points off: you failed to choke the child or slip a sedative into his chicken tenders. 2 points . . . Looking at my empty plate and asking, “Are you finished with that?” No, I’d like to draw a few pictures in the crumbs. 4 points. . . When I order Ranch dressing, it’s not necessary to look me over then say, “We have diet Ranch.” 3 points . . . I’ve never understood the phrase, “Are you ready for your check?” What would happen if I said, “No”? I mean, I’m done eating, I’ve drawn the pictures in my crumbs, and you’ve cleared the dishes. Is there a floorshow coming? Am I missing something by leaving too early? 2 points . . . Why does a restaurant serve special “sweet tea” when there’s sugar right there on the table? 2 points . . . And on a related manner, let’s say I order plain old tea then doctor it up with sweetener to my preferred taste. Do you know what is does to the chemical balance every time you “top it off” when I’m looking the other direction? 3 points…I know it’s a time-saver but must you plunk all the silverware down at one end of our table, expecting us to become part-time waiters by passing it down the line? If you were gracious enough to begin our new relationship with “Hi, my name is Yvonne and I’ll be your waiter!” then surely you can hand me my own fork without it being passed through three sets of untrustworthy hands. 9 points . . .It’s been 25 minutes now and you still have roped and hog-tied the noisy kid at the next table. If this new system of restaurant grading takes Morgan County by storm, then I suppose it’s only fair to reciprocate and let the wait staff rate grouchy customers…like me.