Blogs :: service without a smile
If you have ever traveled outside the United States, you always miss this one thing we Americans pride ourselves upon: Service. Until a few weeks ago when we arrived in Brasil, this thing called service has been more or less non-existent. Even with a fake smile, nothing really compares to the culture of service we have created in the U.S. Here in Rio de Janeiro we have however been re-introduced to quality in the restaurant, both in food and help. But before I write that story, here's one from a few months ago while traveling in Panama.
If I ever need to be reminded I'm in Central America, I just walk into a restaurant. Hospitality, by and large, for the most part, generally and specifically speaking, considering all others, fucking sucks. Blows balls. Esta mierda. Ever been to Europe, maybe specifically London and wondered what you got for 10%? Whatever it was, it was a hell of a lot more than here.
So I'd just eaten not too many hours ago, but it was dinner time and my stomach was habitually growling. Cheap sounded good, but raining I passed on the street vendor sandwich guy for cover and ended up in the Chinese restaurant in Bocas del Torro. Walking in, I saw down and the menu was quick to be delivered. I needed no time to consider, if its just Chinese, I most always go with a fried rice. Typically slow, the masera (server), returns for the order. Drinks always come late. Never quickly. Sometimes with food, something after. Fortunately fried rice takes about 2 minutes to cook up so my simple order of water came with.
I eat quickly. I know this. There were a few other tables who received food before, but close to my time, so I timed off their completion. Not that hungry, I figured I'd take half home, remember I'm eating Chinese, its take-out friendly. Fifteen minutes post consumption, I'm still waiting for a return visit. Good thing I wasn't thirsty for a second drink. The ladies pretending to work sat up front talking. I gave "the glance", nothing. Twenty minutes, one comes out and cleans off ta table that left. Glance, no vocal, no arm waving. Its not "accepted" here. Another table is cleaned off. Twnety five minutes. Now I'm just starring into space, but directly at one of the ladies. I actually here her call something across the restaurant like, "What da ya want?" in a uneducated, we are lazy bs and why are you here, tone of voice. I just want a box. I've figured out by now you get up to pay the check. I'm not however going to get up, plate in hand, go to the counter and ask for it. If I was in the States, it was one of those times you just walk out 45 minutes later without paying, but the only way not past the cs was off the dock into the ocean.
I half started to respond, shape a box with my hands, and said screw it not wanting to yell across the restaurant now completely empty. It was only $2 worth of food. I walked out, dropping $5 on the counter, not even waiting for my change. I had no where to be, no one to see, but I'd have rather stood in the rain eating a sandwich. Street vendors are super nice, super hospitable, super cooks. Sounds backwards? Welcome to Central America.
Bocas del Toro, Panama, food
Posted By:
Brendon
3/22/2009