As I am wont to do, I stirred up some angst last week when I wrote about an incident at a Texas Roadhouse where two women claimed that their meal was ruined because of a nearby screaming baby. Overall, most opinions were split down the middle with half of the people siding with the upset women and the other half siding with the ear-piercing screaming bag of baby parts. However, one woman named Kelly sharted out way too much information in a Facebook comment and I can’t let it go by without really dissecting it to fully understand what she is trying to convey.
“It is thanks to your page and those who comment as to why I rarely dine out anymore.” I feel really awful that Kelly has kept herself from the joys of the Clam Strips Platter at Friendly’s or a Colossal Meatball at Ninety Nine Restaurant and Pub and it’s all my fault. I had no idea I held such power that would keep someone from eating out.
“At first the content and satire of this page was ‘cute’, but taking the risk that my almost 2 year old will not be completely mute on our outing, I wouldn’t want to disturb other guests.” Thank you, Kelly. This is exactly why I want you to do. Only go out if you are 100% certain that your baby will stay 100% quiet. If you aren’t positive about it, duct tape is readily available in a variety of colors and designs that could make dining out even more fun! Your baby will love it. (Don’t get his hair caught on it though. Ouchy!)
“Although it’s okay for other guests to disrupt my experience with their crude and loud behavior…” Kelly, maybe you should stop taking your baby to strip joints and beer halls. That could potentially eliminate that whole issue. That’s some bad parenting right there, Kelly. Tsk, tsk. Try a family friendly place like Cracker Barrel so you can be surrounded by good wholesome country folk who like eating Cracker Barrel Samplers and Country Fried Steak
“…while the wait staff huddle in a mass, not working, discussing (loudly) their personal lives.” You cannot assume that just because they are huddling in mass that they are not working. They could be discussing something very important like how much powdered sugar gets sprinkled onto a dessert or where to store the teaspoons. As for them discussing their personal lives, well, what the hell are they thinking? How awful of them to attempt to have conversations about things other than table numbers, food running and sidework. If only the world could be run by robots so we could do away with that pesky need for human contact with the people you work with.
“I refuse to pay your bills when it’s a profession you chose.” Absolutely, you have a right to feel that way and you are also correct when you say it is a profession that most people chose. I would be very surprised to hear that any servers are being held against their will or that these were jobs that were chosen for them. There were no slave ships that carried people across the ocean and deposited them at Applebee’s.
“You want to child-shame parents, as if we’re not allowed to give your restaurant business and out money in your pocket.” What does this even mean? I never said you were not allowed to go to a restaurant, but if someone is going to do something that attracts attention to themselves, I do have the right to blog about it. And lets; face it: child-shaming parents is always good fun.
“You all sound angry that the only thing you’re qualified to do is take a food order and refill ketchup.” I can’t speak for all servers, but I can try to: most of us are qualified to do many, many other things than wait tables. We do it because we want to and for you to assume that all servers who do this job because it’s their only option is just as wrong as me saying that every mother who has a two-year old is a pain in the ass. Possibly true, but not necessarily true.
“My child has never disrupted an establishment and I’ve also been generous to servers who treated my child as a person, and not a nuisance.” Then why the fuck are you even complaining? If your child is one of those rare mythical creatures that are perfectly behaved in restaurants, no one is even bitching about you. Take your little Unicorn Baby out to Bennigan’s and go to town on a plate of Housemade Cottage Pie. You and your baby ain’t the problem.
“God forbid you step in and offer assistance.” Wait, what? You think if a server sees a baby crying it is our job to fucking babysit it for you so you can suck down another glass of Pinot Grigio? Offer assistance?? What if I assist your baby back into its stroller and then push it to the curb for you, is that what you want? Because I am fine with that, but don’t be trying to sue my ass after I assist the stroller into the parking lot where it hits a parked car and the baby pops out onto to the asphalt. I was only trying to help.
“You just complain passive aggressively from afar.” It’s Facebook, dear. It’s not that afar.