Looks like I struck a nerve – again. My topic from last week, expressing annoyance at snippy restaurant greeters who look askance at solo diners and feel compelled to say, “Just one?” provoked a great deal of response.
I love it when my e-mail inbox overflows with comments about the things I write.
For instance, a single woman in New York wrote to me, “I’ve fought a long and hard battle over this one, but it seems to be a losing one. In any event, I’ve no compunction whatsoever in telling a host or hostess, “No. (I said) one. Not ‘just’ one.”
Another New Yorker wrote that they believed most hosts/hostesses have probably never thought about the connotation of the way “JUST one” sounds – although it would be a good idea if they did. I still think it’s a training issue and that most of these youngsters don’t give a damn about connotation.
A colleague in France reminded me that patrons dining alone are asked, “une seule?” which, literally translated, means “one alone?” Nevertheless, to those who understand the language and its nuances, it still means, “just one?”
I heard from a divorced woman who said this happens too often to her. “I guess the response could be: ‘Better alone than with you…’ Ha!”
Or this, from a reader in the Midwest: “Respond, ‘I prefer dining with someone who has the ability to answer all my questions quickly and intelligently.’”
This one is my favorite of all of the responses. It comes from an old friend in Washington, D.C. She wrote, “I once went to a hostess and I said I’m alone. She didn’t ask for my name. That’s because she thought she knew me, since I go to this restaurant quite often. Then, as tables became available, she called people’s names. She got to the name ‘Malone’ and no one showed. It finally dawned on me that she thought I had said ‘I’m Malone!'”
I also received this response from a man, who noted, “But they really do look at you with surprise or pity or disdain, sometimes, when they say, ‘Just one?’ They never say, ‘Just two?'”
Others turned the question back to me. They wanted to know what I think should be said. My response: How about a simple: “Good evening. May I help you?” Or – “Would you like a table in the dining room or would you prefer the bar?”
By coincidence one of my culinary industry magazines contained an online blog on the very same subject. Written by the editor of the magazine, she called it, “The Best Dining Companion.”
She provides a very good guide for restaurant staff in the way a solo diner should be treated. Recounting a recent visit to a restaurant, she chose to dine alone at the bar. The visit, overall, she reported, was one of the more pleasant dining experiences she’s had largely because of the way the bartender, who also served her dinner, conducted himself throughout the evening.
Her points: “(first) Don’t judge. For starters, there was no sad look and inquiry, ‘Just one?’ Believe me, I’ve had more than my share of sympathetic, slightly mocking looks from hosts and bartenders who seem to view dining alone as a sign of a crippling social disorder, rather than the peaceful engagement it truly is. I’m OK dining by myself. You should be, too.
“Second, get things started quickly – a beverage of some sort right away, a set-up of a placemat, silverware and napkin, and by all means, a menu. Third, keep an eye on things from a distance – don’t hover, but don’t let me feel abandoned.”
Fourth, know when to jump in. The writer did engage in conversation with others nearby, but the bartender knew to come to her rescue when someone else was clearly bugging her. And finally, know that personal service can pay off. This bartender earned himself a very nice tip because he knew exactly the right way to handle a single diner.
One reader asked of me, “Do you report these incidents to engage in a teachable moment?”
By all means, yes I do.