Tuesday, March 1, 2011

Service, not Servant

This weekend was fabulous!  My sister G turned 27 and ALL of the sisters united for a weekend to celebrate her and her awesomeness.  We laughed, we ate good food, we spent hours around the table reminiscing and swapping stories.  It was a fantastic weekend with my four best friends.  I am incredibly blessed to have the sisters I have, the parents I have, the life I live.  Incredibly blessed. 

 Saturday lunch (photo is missing sister C, who arrived Sat night...)

Birthday girl and some of her adoring family fans :) 

On Sunday, we all went to Myabi's for some delicious hibachi-style Japanese.  Our server and chef were incredible, and we cheered and laughed and oooh'd and ahhh'd and generally made sure that they knew they were doing an excellent job serving us.  Because there were eight of us, we took up the entire side of the grill, and that, my friends, was EPIC.  It is the best way to enjoy hibachi, I think.  It's always so awkward to share with strangers...

Anyway, our server kept saying how kind we were, how nice we were, etc, and I was a little perplexed until my sisters pointed out that the group across from us hadn't expressed any excitement or joy over their chef.  They were morose and sullen, eating silently (even the teenagers and kids) and wearing frowns almost constantly.  My sister noticed one of them grab the chef's large container of "white sauce" (possibly the best part of the hibachi experience -- yum!) and pass it around to their family members.  The chef's face was a study in politeness -- my sister felt sure he wanted to snatch it back and teach them a lesson in rudeness, but he obviously felt he couldn't. 

It's a SERVICE being offered, people, not a SERVANT to be treated as a low-class citizen.  Everyone wants their work to be appreciated, whether you're a teacher, a hair stylist or the hibachi chef at Myabi's.  It makes me upset when people aren't treated well; when their work isn't respected or enjoyed.  It fires me up. 

Unfortunately, showering the people across from us with white sauce and screaming at them was not really an option.  Haha.  So, we tipped OUR server/chef really well, gushed about the fabulous experience, and left Myabi's smiling.  Hopefully, our server and chef felt appreciated and valued.

Oh, and as a random postscript -- my dad taught me not to date men who don't tip, or who treat wait staff poorly.  Dad says men who don't tip or act rudely towards the wait staff are scum.  So I always check the tip when I'm on a date :) 

1 comment:

  1. That was one of my biggest fears when I started dating the Fiance! Turns out, he's a great tipper, and not just to impress me, because he still tips great! =)