We’ve all gone to the dark place at least once, where we believe the person serving us in a restaurant has forgotten—or worse!—is purposely avoiding us. How else can I explain my perpetually empty glass or that they haven’t deposited the bill even though they know I’m going to a show after dinner? Their prolonged absence is more likely unintentional—because the restaurant is overbooked and understaffed or the server is also juggling a table of 20. Or maybe, like me, they’re having a bad day.
But when and how should we speak up as we battle feelings of indignation that our needs aren’t being met?
The perception of being ignored by waitstaff brings out some rather feral behavior in diners. Responding to a social media poll, a dozen-plus servers, general managers, and sommeliers reported that customers trying to get their attention have snapped, whistled, clapped, and thrown pens at them; waved napkins around their head and shouted infantilizing epithets like “Hey, darling!” and “Little girl!” Diners have interrupted servers’ conversations with other tables, and—on rarer occasions—yanked on their clothes or physically grabbed them.
“We are at our worst when we are impatient and on our own agenda, and I see that in a lot of these behaviors,” says Lizzie Post, copresident of The Emily Post Institute, an etiquette training organization in Waterbury, Vermont.
Unfortunately, entitled jerks who mistreat service workers are eternal, she says. During the COVID-19 pandemic, people stopped flexing the muscles that dictate how to behave in public social settings, which may explain the recent uptick in bad behavior. Post is more concerned that people have yet to resolve their “quickness to impatience,” which provokes responses that are “too disruptive for what’s supposed to be a more toned-down atmosphere.”
Keeping your cool starts with being aware of what you don’t know (e.g., why the server is absent), then seeking the best avenues for getting what you want while still being civil. Say you were seated over 10 minutes ago, and the server hasn’t come over to take the drink order. Rather than seethe about their incompetence, politely flag down another member of the team to say, “It’s been a minute and we haven’t seen the server. Can we throw in a drink order?”
“The whole staff is supposed to be a team, so you should be able to lean on anyone out on that restaurant floor to help with a situation that goes wrong,” Post says. Plus, telling someone else sets a “second timer” on the issue, which will probably help resolve it quicker. “Don’t sit there being a victim! Go get the assistance you need.”
There’s a difference between approaching or interrupting politely and with aggression. Jules Bandy, general manager of the seasonal northwestern restaurant Hayward in Carlton, Oregon, finds it disconcerting when customers advance on the servers’ station to air small concerns, or they make a point to learn their server’s name so they can call it out across the room at will—“assertions of power” that create uncomfortable distance between server and customer.
Similarly, waving down waitstaff shouldn’t feel overly disruptive. Rather than gesturing wildly or shooting a hand in the air like a fourth grader, Post prescribes “a small hand in the air,” with the index and middle fingers raised. And in case you’re still wondering, snapping, clapping, and whistling have never been appropriate ways to get a server’s attention. This is according to Emily Post’s seminal Etiquette book, first published in 1922. (The socialite was Lizzie Post’s great-great grandmother.)
Even if you’ve gotten off to a rocky start, don’t assume the meal is heading downhill. Dining out is a trust exercise, after all.
“Where is your trust?” says hospitality vet Lauren Hunter Lee, a sommelier and captain at the newcomer bistro Petite Edith in Chicago. “That you’re a guest in my house and I got you. That I’m going to provide the best of what I have to offer, assuming you’re as gracious a guest for the consideration we’ve put forth.”
Of course, that necessitates holding up her end of the bargain—that if, say, the appetizers are late to arrive, she proactively lets the customer know she’s on the case.
For better or worse, restaurants and their customer-facing front lines usually default to being the adults in the room, lowering the temperature with a joke or apology even when they’d rather clap back—not least because they’re probably working for tips. Several servers admitted in the poll that they’ve busied themselves with other tasks to avoid tables where diners mistreated them.
“The thing so many people struggle with is direct communication,” Bandy says, noting that servers are guilty of it too. “It’s tempting to ignore someone because you’re like, I’m so sorry you’re waiting or that this thing went wrong. I find the constant check-in much more effective. Give a quick update and give the guest an opportunity to say something. What do they need? It’s a chance to engage and fix it before it becomes a problem.”
The longer an issue festers on either side, the larger it looms. A quick, calm word increases the chance that everyone gets what they want and gets back to having a good time, which should be the point.
“Take a breath or two and work through your scenario by two more chess moves before you throw that pen or pick up that young woman,” Lee says. “What are your next two moves, and what do you want from them?”
Even if you do lose your temper, it’s always within your power to apologize. No matter how awkward a situation might be, restaurants want you to enjoy your meal and come back—assuming you’re not a jerk, that is.
“We can all have a bad day where we get in our head that we’re deserving of being condescending to someone,” Post says. “The sooner we can turn around and apologize, go back and say, ‘I’m sorry I was a jerk,’ that’s in our wheelhouse. We can take responsibility and it will help us move forward.”