I know that, here at the League, and among most decent people, we’d like to believe that the true strength of argument comes from mutual respect, argumentative decorum and a dedication to the exchange of ideas.
But seriously, fuck this guy.
“One Hundred Things Restaurant Staffers Should Never Do.” Just a hundred! Why so reticent, Bruce? Couldn’t you have come up with 200 if you really tried? I mean, you haven’t made it quite clear enough how spoiled you are. You know, I don’t think I could come up with a hundred things that I wouldn’t want a surgeon who was about to operate on me to do. A waiter? A waiter. A hundred things. A hundred rules to follow to please Bruce Buschel. Seriously, if I ever become so entitled that I think I’m within my rights to demand one hundred rules of people who are literally serving me, please, tell me to STFU. I’ll richly deserve it.
If you are such a shrinking violet that you require that many rules, I mean if you are so delicate and so needy and so unable to adapt, and if you so lack the empathy for your fellow man to the point that you don’t want people from lower socioeconomic standing than you to touch the lip of your glass (rule #12)– I mean, imagine! Your glass being touched by a poor!– if you’ve degraded in your basic emotional and empathetic process to that point that you criticize people for having the temerity to compliment you (rule #42), if you’ve sunk that low, for God sakes, keep it to yourself. Do us that favor. I know that this universe permits that kind of hideous emotional poverty, but I prefer to let it fester in the cold, barren wasteland of your apartment and not be pushed in front of my face in the New York Times.
Waiters and waitresses have a tough job. You can make a lot of money as a waiter or waitress, but only in the right restaurants on the right nights. There’s plenty of evenings where you make very little at all. There’s never much guarantee that you’ll make any real money at all, thanks for the fact that your actual wage is much less than the minimum wage. On the nights when you do make a lot of money, you are certainly working hard, and putting up with a lot of stuff from moral detritus such as Bruce Buschel. Nobody mistakes being a waiter for a cush job. No one mistakes it for the kind of place where you’re going to make a mint. And it’s a job that reminds you again and again that the world is full of social midgets, people who are so retarded in terms of empathy and compassion and caring that they simply do not care about concerns beyond their own selfish, petty concerns.
Really, if you set out to craft a piece of writing that announces that you are shrill, entitled, and childish, you would be hard pressed to succeed as well as Buschel does in that piece. Now, I’ve never been a waiter or a bartender or hostess or busser. I am, however, in the possession of the knowledge that everyone who does fulfill those roles is a human being and is thus entitled to being treated according to basic rules of decorum and elementary human respect. So when you say, for example, “7. Do not announce your name”– well, if you said that this was one of your rules within earshot of me, I’d slap you in your face. Right in your smug, self-righteous little face.
So: I say without reservation or apology, Bruce Buschel, that you are a terrible, whiny little child, and you shouldn’t be allowed out in public, let alone out to eat, and if there was any justice in this universe you’d be cursed to work long hours waiting on self-absorbed, socially retarded yuppoid nothings like yourself, for all eternity. Grow up, get over yourself, try to pierce your pathetic little shell of entitlement and self-absorption, and do it soon. It hurts me to know people as selfish as you exist.
Update: To be clear, I don’t disagree with the cleanliness rules. But they come in such a context of dehumanizing and insulting a waitstaff that I chafe at the way they are presented.