February 23, 2009
Death by Busboy
In this economy, with so many ways to justify not going out for dinner, we can add yet another tick to the column of reasons to stay at home: The Busboy.
After more than a few recent run-ins with over-eager, over-reaching Bus-type staff, I say that some of the too-pricey restos around town should reconsider the role of the Busser (busboy, busperson, bus staffer, whatever).
Back in the days of the moochers who sat nursing a coffee or a lemonade for hours on end while the hungry waited for tables, the Busser in his role as Resto Policeman, served a useful function.
But in today’s world, it is completely unacceptable for diners to fear the Busser. There is no reason that we should have to keep on the lookout for Bussers, lest they snatch our half-full champagne flutes, our half-eaten appetizers, or other plates from us.
Recently, I found myself in a tug of war with a Busser who tried to whisk away the last 1/3 of a $35 class of wine. As soon as his hand jerked its way into my peripheral vision, I quickly held the glass down to the table by its base. He tried to grab the glass by its globe, and yanked so hard that I thought the glass might break. I said, “Leave it,” but he hovered at the table looking at me, as though I were obligated to dispose of its contents his watch. I refused and eventually he wandered off to harass someone else.
Dinner is no time for a wrestling match. And no one should have to develop a Busboy-strategy before going to dinner.
Grabby Bussers are the bane of restos that hope for an average check of $65 and up, Some operators seem to mistakenly believe that having a Server, Runner & a Busser will somehow enhance the dining experience.
But they are wrong. The Busser does not bring joy, good tidings nor anything desirable to the diner.Why do they wander the floor looking for things to grab, without looking at what's on the table, if the diners are talking, if one person has stepped away from the table?
Last week, when Ms. R called me and invited me to dinner at a resto known for its aggressive bus-boying. I refused, telling her, “I want dinner, not a game of tug-of-war.” The last time I was at that particular resto, the busser took my bread plate away just after I had buttered the bread. He did this not once but three times. Short term memory? Perhaps. But what a waste of bread.
So we chose to go to another resto not suffering busboy bane, and there we spent $170. If, on each calendar day of the year, two people decide they cannot tolerate the bussing habits at a particular resto, and if the two people spend on average $170, then said resto will lose $62K in sales annually. And what if it happens say a few more times each day? Death by busboy.
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death by busboy
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Posted on 2/23/2009
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