If I am going to wait for ages and pay exorbitant rates in a restaurant, I expect the food will be delicious, the portions will be large, the service will be unparalleled, and the atmosphere will be welcoming and pleasant. Apparently, I’m the only one in
Of course, I understand that many food servers are not career waiters or waitresses. They do not necessarily have passion and commitment for their jobs, and they have ambitions outside of getting me a side of ranch. I know this. Better hurry up with my damn ranch, but I know this. So why is the service from an aspiring actor-waiter (a “wactor” as those of us in LA like to call them) so horrifically atrocious? I think this might have something to do with their reasons for working at the restaurant, and also the personality that craves fame. Obviously, one works in an LA restaurant to pay bills while that acting career is busy not panning out, but really any job would take care of that. The reason for waiting tables at a
You wake up in the afternoon, go to the gym, eat one spoonful of peanut butter and four grapes, spend two hours doing your hair, and then head off to work. While sashaying casually from table to table, posing as you pour water refills, Spielberg walks in and is seated by the hostess, who is at least ten pounds fatter than you are. You walk up to his table, your trademark pout on your lips. He sees you and exclaims, “Perfect! Tell that A-list celebrity we were going to cast in the lead of my next major motion picture that they are out. This kid’s the new star!”
This has probably happened never. But it is the dream that keeps the service slow and the wactors sullen, pouty, preoccupied, and self-involved. Of course, they are also all of these things because they want to be in The Industry, and those qualities are a requirement. If you ever meet someone who does not have these qualities and wants to be an actor, you have met someone who will make it. Because I guarantee you this person is every bit as shallow and selfish as the rest, but managed to make you believe that he or she was actually a real person. That is a good actor. Really all I’m saying is if you want good service in a restaurant, you better brush up on your Spielberg impersonation.
Sometimes I find it hard to find a restaurant in LA. Not because there are few of them, quite the opposite, actually. They are as plentiful as clothing stores. That is the real problem. I often find it hard to tell the difference between the two. They are both staffed by over-made-up Lollipop Heads dressed all in black. They both have insane amounts of empty space, and any space they do have is taken up by broken motorcycles, dead branches, and other objects posing as art. They both have names that could either be a pet’s name or a sex act. They both have worse lighting than a
So you’ve found it. Maybe you got lucky, and some starlet was doing blow in the bathroom. Get out your camera phone, because you’ll need to sell those pictures to afford the meal. But now prepare yourself for the inverse relationship between price and portion. Go to some diner, give them six dollars, and you’ll get a plate piled so high with deliciousness that even after splitting it with your friend, you have enough to bring to work tomorrow. However, as the price goes up, the size of the food on your plate goes down. At an LA restaurant, or at least one classy enough to have celebrities take drugs there, you will pay ten times as much for ten times less food. I have never eaten out in LA without having to make a Del Taco run afterwards. But the strange thing isn’t the amount of food. Obviously, a weight-centered society such as
