Monday, November 23, 2009

PDA

This is a great contribution from a good friend of mine, on a subject we have touched on here before, though perhaps not quite as hilariously....

PDA

And I'm not talking about the Pennsylvania Department of Agriculture. We've all seen it, and we've all been uncomfortable. Where do you draw the line? I have, of course, been out to dinner with girlfriends and shown them affection. They are my center of attention. There might be some hand holding before the plates arrive at the table. I might squeeze a knee and wink. I even recall, under the right circumstances, loading up a nice forkful of my dish and offering it across the table for my companion to taste. That is, unless the server is present or maybe the restaurant is crowded and we just so happen to be a focal point because of our stunning goods looks and the uncontollable laughter coming from our table. But let me assure you, never, and I mean NEVER have I been involved in an unbridled make-out session in the middle of a restaurant. Now there are certain acceptable levels of PDA. Maybe the red wine has gotten to you a little bit. Maybe your lover's eyes have an extra little twinkle in them tonight. Steal a kiss, please! I am a bleeding heart romantic myself. But there are definitely boundaries.

Last week, while I was working bar, I noticed a table getting a little too affectionate. I even overheard some of the servers murmuring about it. A short while later, a server approached me and asked if one of his tables could move over to the bar. This happens from time to time and there was some sort of game on the television so I promptly agreed. The server then quietly said to me, "Sorry, man." I thought he was apologizing because they had already paid their tab and were bringing over half a bottle of wine to finish without needing (or paying for) my services. It was a pretty slow night and I wasn't concerned about them idling in my otherwise valuable real estate. Little did I know it was the make-out kids. I say "kids" but they were mid 30's to 40 and they thought the bar was their green light for a little extra freedom.

They proceeded to make a complete spectacle of themselves. Two seats over from them, I had two very well-known local bartenders, not to mention two of the best tippers that come to visit me (Thanks, guys!). Honestly, I wouldn't have minded SOME kissing going on at my bar. I can always look away or busy myself with closing duties. But it became a pretty big problem when I stopped looking at them and could still HEAR them. And I don't mean: (smooch) "You look great tonight." Or, "Holy shit, you're beautiful and I love you. Give me a kiss." I mean it sounded like an eight year old kid came in from a blizzard and his mom gave him a grilled cheese and a bowl of Campbell's tomato soup. "Slurp. Mmmm. Slurp. Oh yeah. (some more slurping, possibly some chewing) Slurp. Mmmm." I really think it was minutes away from a pubic display of affection. Yes, I spelled that right. So, of course my two regulars get a little weirded out and anybody that came over to check the score quickly noticed the wannabe Cinemax scene going on.

These are the lines I rehearsed in my head before approaching them:

"Excuse me, guys. Now, believe me, I'm very happy for how well your night is going. Matter of fact, I'm a little jealous. But it's a little too much for the fairly sophisticated dinner atmosphere that we're going for here. Maybe you could take it down a notch."

But as I readied myself for the awkward situation that was about to happen, the slurping got louder. It was pounding in my head head like Poe's Telltale Mouth. My blood pressure went up and I started putting things away by releasing them inches away from where they belonged hoping to show my displeasure for their obliviousness. Then I realized: They were, in fact, upsetting our expected level of behavior. Not to mention, they were compromising my own personal beliefs and limits. I came up with a few choice words on my way around the bar but decided to hold back.

What came out was:

"HEY. There are people TRYING to enjoy their dinner RIGHT next to you. You need to cool it."

They snapped back to reality with a shocked, almost post-coital look on their faces and quickly apologized. I only meant for them to enjoy each other a little less, finish their wine and say "Thanks, Goodnight" but they immediately left. I thought about feeling bad but it was too much and it needed to be done. I did not spend nine years in the fine dining industry to be made to feel like I was working at a drive-in.

I guess the point of my story is that people can see you. Your public displays of affection can be tasteful and even appreciated. Show your love. It might make for a great night for you, your server and even the people around you. Touch her face. Tell her she's beautiful. Tell her a joke. Maybe feed her some of your dinner. But... THERE ARE LINES! Cross them at home.

1 comment:

  1. People are so disgusting with that stuff sometimes. How can they think that sort of stuff is acceptable in public?

    ReplyDelete