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Newsgroups: bit.listserv.words-l
Date:         Sat, 15 Aug 1992 01:20:53 PDT
From:         s mandell <pwiebe@ECST.CSUCHICO.EDU>
Subject:      a restaurant scene
Comments: To: words-l <words-l@uga.cc.uga.edu>

A restaurant scene:

I am sitting at the table with my boyfriend Patrick and his parents.  It
is a busy night, and the restaurant is crowded.  It's a vegetarian
restaurant, built in what was once probably a house, given the placement
of the bathrooms and the stairway.  Pat and I are on the inside and his
parents on the aisle.  There's also a table for two next to us, and the
table behind me is so close by that they had to scootch in when we sat
down.  The aisle leads straight into the kitchen and you can see them in
there working.  There's only two or three women, and they're practically
running back and forth trying to keep up.

We are making pleasant conversation, and waiting to order.  I begin to
cough because my throat is dry or something, and it turns into a slow
fit of dry coughs and my eyes are tearing.  I can talk ok, but I'm still
coughing every few seconds.  I'm wedged in, and don't think to get
up.  I'm waiting for it to go away and so are Pat and his dad.  People
are beginning to look to see what's going on, but it's not too bad
because it's just me coughing.  His mom interrupts the conversation to
ask me if I want some water.

I say yes, and the next thing I know she is waving with her arm out in
the aisle to one of the women working there, and in that voice you use
to keep your toddler out of the street without scaring them at the same
time, gets her attention and asks for some water.  Now everyone in the
restaurant has stopped talking and is looking.  The woman finishes what
she is doing, and comes to the table.

"What would you like?" says the woman.

"Could you please get us some water?!" says Lonnie.

"How many glasses would you like?" says the woman.

(Yes, I am still coughing)

She tells her four, and the woman, perhaps in sympathy for me comes back
quickly.


This whole event would probably not have been scene causing in the
states.  It's because things work differently here as far as requests
from people who are working are concerned.  It's part of what makes
people here think Americans are impatient.  We're just operating under a
different set of rules.

The rule is loosly:  One thing at a time.  In the restaurant, I would
first catch the eye of someone working there, and wait for them to come
to the table to see what it is I want.  (Even with the scene, this is
what happened anyway)  In the bakery or cheese shop, when it is your
turn, you ask for things one at a time.  They bring you the first thing
and ask you if there is anything else.  Then you ask for the second
item.  Why should they have to memorize your shopping list?  And no
matter how many customers there are in the shop, when they're through
with you, they're just as likely as not to wander off into the back room
instead of helping the next customer.  At the library, you must wait
while they check in your books, even if they're all on time.  These
things all seem like a bit of a downer sometimes, but there's an upside
as well.  Everyone has time to give you an explanation twice, and is in
no hurry to get rid of you and move on to the next.


Geez I sound pedantic.
S
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