Are we narrowing the gap between rich and poor or leveling the playing field to dirt level.
We had to change our M-net decoder, so we decided to have breakfast at a nearby well-known chain-restaurant.
The restaurant was packed, which meant that the food was as good as it has been for decades.
We chose this particular restaurant because they make nice coffee. We also like the breakfasts they serve at a very affordable price.
The waitress took our order and brought our very hot coffee. The cups were also hot, and I wondered if they heated it up in a microwave. It was very nice, but not “second cup” nice. It was just too hot. You do not get a choice of hot or cold milk, just Xxxxx coffee. Nice Xxxxx coffee, but. I mentioned the microwave suspicion to my husband and he said “What do you expect from a Xxxxx restaurant?”
Next the waitress threw the cutlery, partially wrapped in the serviette, onto the table. No place mat or side plate, we are expected to eat from the snotty-kids-fingers' table. I picked up the knife and fork and, using the serviette, I started polishing the invisible snot from the cutlery. Then I placed my cutlery on top of the serviette. My husband watched my antics and said: “What do you expect from a Xxxxx?”
The breakfast came and it looked very tasty. I ordered, the smallest breakfast of bacon, and soft egg and toast. My husband ordered a man-sized one with his egg well done.
I waited for the side plate, butter and jam, and hoped the place mat would arrive late, but none came. When I said “Is this it?” My husband said: “What do you expect from a Xxxxx?”
We asked for marmalade and butter. It arrived with no side plate and butter-knife.
I looked at the narrow pointed steak knife I used for my breakfast. It was full of egg, so I used the second serviette that came with the butter to wipe the egg from the knife.
I was staring at it and thought it would have been so much easier to use a butter knife.
My husband looked at me and before I opened my mouth to say something, he said:
“What do you expect from a XXXXX?”
Eventually, my husband got up and asked for a butter knife. Another waitress took one from the tray and handed it to our waitress to pass it on to him. The other waitress was not going to serve someone from another table.
I looked at the snotty finger table and wished for a side plate. I said: “I don’t suppose they will bring a side plate?”
He answered: “What do you expect from a XXXXX?”
My dinner plate was a bright egg yellow so I discarded the idea to butter my toast on it.
I considered tipping the butter and jam out onto the table and using that saucer, but decided it was too small. I then spread the second serviette on the table and used it as a side plate.
As I looked up at my husband, he opened his mouth and started to say: “W ...” And I said: “Don’t say it again.”
“I do expect a side plate, butter knife, place mat and butter and jam with my toast.
Whether I pay R17 or R170 for my breakfast, that is what I expect in a sit-down restaurant. I want Spur quality service - even at a Xxxxx!”
“Is this an example of narrowing the gap or just treating everyone like pigs?” I thought.
When the waitress brought the bill I noticed for the first time how sad she looked. She looked as if she was going to burst out in tears any moment. I tried to cheer her up by saying how nice the food was, but she ignored us.
I said to my husband he must give her a nice big tip to cheer her up. We left - never to return again.
One can be so quick to judge, but we never know what is happening in the lives of those we meet in passing.
Of what praat ek alles.
16-04-2009
